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)
Grandpa chuckled. “Sadly, he passed away shortly before the duke himself, so we never found out whose son he was, and Bruce never declared it either way.”
“But the ninth duke was definitely Angus’ son?”
“Yes. Bruce was born two years after John when they were already married.”
“Your family history is really more colourful than I believed,” Grace said, skimming the book on her lap. “I might never leave this library.”
Grandpa chuckled and handed her another book. “Here. This one is the closest thing we have to an autobiography of Bruce, the ninth duke. He was heavily involved in the abolition of slavery in the United Kingdom, and I think the diary extracts from his son, James, might prove to be more than useful for your studies.”
Grace’s face lit up like she’d been handed a puppy. “James’ diary extracts? Are you serious? I’ve been trying to find a reliable source for first-hand Scottish accounts for a year.”
Grandpa smiled. “You’re welcome to take that one home with you and return it to William when you’re done.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, staring at the book. “I—I’ll take pictures or something.”
“I insist.”
“I can’t!”
“Take the book,” I said, lowering my mouth to her ear. “He’ll keep arguing with you until you give in.”
“I heard that,” Grandpa said.
“I’m on your side here, Grandpa,” I pointed out.
Grace clutched the book to her chest tightly. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this will help me.”
“I think I have a couple more books here somewhere,” he said, wiggling his finger as he looked around. “Remind me not to let you leave without them. Let’s get this wedding out of the way, then I’ll dig them out.”
“One book is too many!” Grace insisted. “I ca—”
I covered her mouth with my hand. “She says thank you.”
Grace glared up at me as Grandpa patted his leg. Bruce—the dog, not the ghost of the ninth Duke of Glenroch—trotted over from an invisible spot in the library and followed Grandpa out of the room.
I removed my hand from Grace’s mouth. “I cut the argument short. You’re welcome.”
“I can’t take his books,” she argued, looking up at me.
“Yes, you can. I’m pretty sure he already has in his mind that I’m going to marry you and you’ll one day own this library, so he doesn’t care.”
She rolled her eyes and set the last book to the side. “He’s a dreamer, I see.”
“You could say that. On the other hand, it plays into your nice little story very easily.”
She buried her face in her hands. “Don’t. Your grandma was in here when I arrived, and I decided I would tell her the truth because she wasn’t very scary. She admitted that they both knew, then your grandpa came in and agreed and I fell into some history books and couldn’t get out.”
“That’s a little too Alice in Wonderland for you, Cinderella, isn’t it?”
She tapped my thigh. “Give it up, Lord Kinkirk.”
“Ooh, I can throw that back at you now, can’t I, Lady Grace?”
“I’d rather Cinderella.”
“Why? Is it the lesser of two evils?”
“I will hit you with this book,” she said, moving some of the books onto the coffee table and shuffling along the sofa.
I slid down onto the cushion next to her. “Probably, but it’ll be worth it.”
She stared at me for a moment before she shook her head and sighed. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“What? Than sit here and stare at you? I doubt it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – GRACE
Tummy Flutters
His words sent a little shiver dancing down my spine, but I wasn’t going to pay attention to it.
No. Now, more than ever, I needed to keep my wits about me. After last night’s close call where he almost kissed me, I had to stay in control of myself.
Especially now everyone knew who I really was.
His grandparents knowing had been a curveball I wasn’t prepared for, but still.
“Stop being silly,” I said to William, turning my attention back to my book. “There are a thousand other things you could be doing than sitting here, interrupting my history reading time.”
“I’ll sit here quietly then.”
“William!”
“What?” he chuckled, meeting my gaze. “There’s nothing for me to do right now.”
I huffed and dragged my eyes back to my book—again. “You’re being very irritating. I know there’s something else you can do. Don’t you have some friends in Duncree you can go and pester?”
“Several, actually, but it would be rude of me to go alone since they’re all your friends, too.”
“Friends is a strong word,” I muttered. “I don’t see them that often, you know.”
“But you still talk to them.”
“On occasion,” I replied vaguely. “It doesn’t mean I want to do so in person right now.”
“Are you worried they’ll know we’re lying?”
“No. They’ll know we’re lying the second we mention it,” I replied. “But nor am I worried about them ratting us out, for what it’s worth. Matthew and Eva faked an entire marriage, so I can’t imagine anyone batting an eyelid about us doing it for one weekend.”