Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“She’ll never say, so I suspect she disagreed with his position.” Will shifted his weight to his other foot. “Freya was her red line. Mum laughs when she tells this story, but apparently Grandma told Grandpa to get his foot out of his ‘ruddy great backside’ and she was seeing her grandchildren, whether he liked it or not.”
“Did he like it?”
“Not until I was born.” He cracked a smile, and his shoulders bobbed with a quiet laugh. “He loves Freya, don’t get me wrong, but uh, she’s not the heir he was looking for.”
I pressed my lips together and looked down.
Boy did I know how that felt.
“I get that,” I said, nodding. “So… You told me that he was trying to set you up with someone. Do you think he was trying the same trick with you?”
“Perhaps, in a more modernised way,” he said after a moment. “He wouldn’t be able to get away with an arranged marriage these days, but he would definitely partner me up with someone he deemed suitable for me to marry in the hope I would give in to his wishes.”
“Would you?”
“If I found myself genuinely interested in her, yes. Of course.”
“But if you didn’t?”
“No. I appreciate that it worked for my grandparents, but I’m not interested in being married off to someone just because my grandfather thinks it’s the right thing. I’m the one who’d have to live with it.”
I peered down at the cushion, toying with a loose thread that I gently circled around my finger. “If you were to go downstairs right now and tell them that we’re just friends, how likely is he to try to set you up with someone?”
Will trapped his lower lip between his teeth and slowly dragged them across, a weirdly sexy movement I couldn’t help but trace with my gaze. “On a scale of one to ten? At least an eight.”
“Really?”
“He’d be respectful of you as my plus one, but he would still introduce me to relevant guests and give me a nudge.”
I had a feeling he would say that.
“And… if you don’t tell them that we’re just friends? And we let them believe we’re in a relationship? Would he then?” I drew my attention upwards, and our gazes met.
He hesitated, then shook his head. “No.”
“Even though they know nothing about me or my family?”
What? I couldn’t say I was a commoner, could I? I wasn’t. My father was an earl. I wasn’t Miss Grace Montgomery-Brown, I was Lady Grace Montgomery-Brown.
I was absolutely the kind of person Angus would accept dating his grandson.
Not that I was going to tell anyone that.
As wonderful and kind and attractive as William was, aristocrats were my red line in dating, and I wasn’t going to change that.
“As you can probably tell, Grandpa also values education a lot.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Your degree and current PhD studies, especially in history, buy you a lot of leeway.”
It was really hard to like his grandpa.
He really was an elitist snob.
“Um, okay. But not marriage material, right?”
“Probably not,” William admitted.
I swept my tongue over my lips, then sighed heavily. “Fine, okay. I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
I dropped the cushion and threw my arms out. “Pretend to be your girlfriend.”
He tilted his head to one side, a bit like a puppy trying to make sense of what you were saying. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend,” I repeated. “Just for this week, though.”
“You’ll pretend to be my girlfriend,” he said slowly.
“Now you’re just repeating what I’m saying.” I laughed. “Look, it’s the easiest thing to do. Nobody knew I existed before, right?”
“You didn’t exist.”
“Exactly. We can downplay the seriousness of our relationship to a casual sort of thing, but exclusive. You won’t be hounded into speaking to people you aren’t interested in, your grandpa will be happy that we’re not thinking about getting married, and it, well. It just makes everything a little simpler, doesn’t it?”
William pushed off the windowsill and walked a few steps closer. “Grace, think about what you’re proposing here. If we’re going to pretend to be together, we’ll have to act like we’re actually together.”
“I figured that much out myself,” I replied, leaning against the back of the sofa. Oh, this was so comfy. “It’s going to be a busy weekend, and I doubt many people will be paying us much attention at all. So it’s going to be, what? A few arms around my shoulders? A hug here, holding hands there? We’re both adults. I think we can manage that without imploding for…” Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday morning… “Seven-and-a-half-days.”
He stared at me for a second, lips twitching. “Did you just count those in your head?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
He laughed and sat down on the sofa, looking at me. “And if people ask how we met? How long we’ve been together?”