Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“You’re looking well, son.”
“You too, Dad.”
Next, he leans over and kisses my cheek warmly.
“Mother.”
“Welcome home, darling.”
Then my son takes a step back, and the girl takes one forward. With a mixture of pride and tender adoration, Thomas says, “May I present Lady Calista Earhart.”
She bows her head and sinks into a curtsy, slow and elegant, and altogether perfect.
“Your Majesty. Prince Edward.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Calista,” Edward says, signaling it is acceptable for her to rise.
She folds her hands in front of her, eyes sparkling with sincerity. “It’s an honor to meet you both. I’m so pleased to be here—I know it’s not usual. That you typically spend the holiday with immediate family.”
It’s true. Even my sister, Miriam, knows to bring only official fiancés or husbands home for Christmas—as plentiful as they tend to be for her.
“Yes, well . . . Thomas insisted.” I shrug.
I don’t mean to sound cold or flippant . . . it just seems to come out that way.
“You must be tired from the drive,” Edward says.
“There are refreshments,” I tell them. “Come along.”
With his hand on the small of her back, Thomas guides Calista up the steps and holds her hand as we walk through the castle.
After cider and sandwiches in the great hall, Thomas takes Calista on a tour before settling her into her room for a rest.
In the evening, we gather in the dining room for a late supper, and though it’s casual, I can tell my son has educated Calista on the formal etiquette of dining with the Queen. She doesn’t begin her meal until I have, and she respectfully sets her silverware down the moment after I do, so the servants can clear one course and serve the next.
Our conversation flows easy and light, as if the girl is already a part of the family.
“Miriam is scheduled to arrive late tomorrow afternoon,” I tell my son, in response to
his inquiry.
Thomas grins at Calista. “I can’t wait for you to meet Auntie Miriam, Lis. She’s an
absolute hoot.”
“That’s one way to describe Miriam,” Edward says.
“Calista, we should go for a drive around the estate tomorrow morning,” I say. “Just the two of us, to get better acquainted. I can drive us.”
“When did you start driving, Mum?” Thomas asks.
“Just recently. Your father taught me.”
“Teaching,” Edward amends. “I’m teaching you.”
“Such a useful skill,” I go on. “I should have insisted on learning ages ago. And so invigorating—it feels almost like flying.”
“Perhaps a bicycle ride would be better, Lenora?” Edward suggests. “Or a nice long walk?”
“No, that won’t do. A drive will give us a better opportunity to chat.”
“We did agree that I would be in the car with you when you drive, my dear.”
I smile at Calista, lest she get the impression I’m not an excellent driver.
“He worries so.”
Edward grins, but there’s an edge to it.
“I am a worrier.”
“But you shouldn’t be concerned,” I tell him. “I’m ready to drive on my own now—I’m certain of it.”
Edward takes a drink of his wine. “I’m glad you’re certain. Although there was that time not too long ago, with the deer . . .”
“That could’ve happened to anyone.”
“Yes, but it happened to you.”
I meet Thomas’s eyes, explaining, “One moment the road was perfectly clear and the next the poor thing was right in the middle of it. Couldn’t be avoided.”
“And the incident with the tree . . .” Edward recalls.
“A tree?” Thomas pipes up, looking worried. “There was a tree? Were you hurt?”
I wave my hand.
“It was just a little tap.”
“Or some might say,” Edward laughs—a bit wildly now, “a major collision.”
“Tomato-tomahto.” I shrug. “We have several cars on the estate, so there was no harm done.”
Edward stares at me pointedly.
“And the lake, Lenora.”
I glance away for a moment . . . remembering. Well, there’s really no way to put a positive spin on that one.
“Yes, the lake was unfortunate.”
Edward pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he asks, “Do you ride, Calista?”
“I do, Your Highness. Though not as often as I’d like.”
He raises a brow at me. “You have that beautiful new stallion you haven’t taken out yet.”
“That’s true,” I concede. “Calista, would you prefer to go riding tomorrow?”
“I would genuinely love that, Your Majesty.”
“Splendid!” Edward claps his hands—a bit too quickly. “So, it’s settled—riding it is.”
And only then is my husband able to finish his supper.
After dessert, Calista bids us good night. Before walking her to her room, Thomas quietly asks to speak with his father and me privately in the library. Edward pours three brandies, and we’re sitting in the high-backed chairs that bracket the fireplace when Thomas finally walks through the door. He retrieves his brandy from the tray and sits on the sofa opposite us, one arm draped across the back of the sofa and one ankle resting on the opposite knee.
“So?” he begins. “What do you think?”