The Problem With Pretending Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
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William bobbed his head. “Very true. How do they shrink down?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about the science behind that. If you get into that, then you have to start asking how a big yellow mouse can shoot electricity from his cheeks. That’s a slippery slope to ruining the whole thing. Let’s not do that.”

“Some things are better left unsaid,” he agreed. “Although we will have to agree to disagree on Gengar and Alakazam.”

“I suppose. Although if you brought your Alakazam to a fight with my Gengar, I’d absolutely whoop your ass.”

“How would you?”

“Psychic is weak to ghost. Duh.”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

I shook my head. “You’ve clearly never watched Derek Acorah get ripped apart by ghosts in Most Haunted.”

William frowned. “Wasn’t that show found to be made up?”

“I don’t know. It’s not so much scary as it is funny. I only watch it for the history.”

He laughed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and bringing me in for a quick hug. “Of course you do. What’s the excuse for watching Pokémon? The culture?”

“No. The desire to have an electric mouse or little orange dragon who can blast the fuck out of anyone who annoys me probably wins there.”

“And to think, you just mocked me for being a Charizard guy.”

“I said little orange dragon, not Charizard. Fuck Charizard. Give me Charmander any day, though. He’s cute as hell.”

“I cannot quite believe we’re having this conversation,” William said, letting his arm fall away from my shoulders. “I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe all day.”

I peered over at him, smiling. “Imagine how I feel being here. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a castle.”

“I cannot believe you managed to keep it to yourself for as long as you did. Or that I never realised there was more to it.” He turned us onto a little path that I recognised from the other night, the one that led to the loch.

At least I was in more suitable footwear this time. And didn’t have McDonald’s ketchup on my clothes.

“I really should have figured it out when you were able to name everyone’s titles based on their first names alone,” he said, eyeing me. “Although Fred’s took you far too long to get.”

“I was a bit ashamed of that,” I replied. “And Gabriella and Miles. She’s the only person I know dating a gardener, so I really should have gotten that one.”

“I wasn’t surprised then, but I am now.”

“Well, we can’t all be perfect. There’s a lot of knowledge in this brain of mine.”

“No wonder you get along with my grandfather. I wasn’t sure he could get along with anyone other than Grandma, but here you are, practically best friends.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile. “We have a mutual interest in history, and he was very excited to share what he knew about Winnie. I knew one of my ancestors had married into a prominent Scottish family, but that was about it.”

“I’m shocked. I thought you’d know more about your own family.”

I tapped his arm. “Not enough, apparently. I just thought it was quite an interesting titbit.”

“It was,” he admitted, although it sounded like he didn’t really want to. “It’s easy to forget how old our families are sometimes. We’re also exceptionally lucky that, for the most part, we have easily identifiable genealogical records. We record our history much better than most people do.”

“Very true.” I wrapped my arms around my waist, looking down as Bruce snaked around my feet in pursuit of something he’d picked up the scent of. “You know, if I wasn’t so interested in the historical side, I think I’d have chosen genealogy to research more.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I think it’s fascinating. But also, imagine what things would be like if, for example, Winnie hadn’t died in childbirth,” I said. “Would she have had another child? Would it have been a son? Your whole family would be different.”

“It would be a lot less scandalous,” William joked. “But you’re right, I suppose. Her death changed the course of our lineage forever.”

“Especially since the woman he married wasn’t an aristocrat,” I pointed out. “Mary—the mistress—was a maid with no noble blood. The wedding was a scandal in more ways than one, even without the whole parentage of John being considered.”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Who his father was?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to do more in-depth research to know for sure, but my gut says John wasn’t the duke’s son. They married very quickly, and he was born eight or so months after the wedding, so there’s a very good chance it wasn’t his child. The duke might not have cared since he needed an heir, and it was his bloodline.” I shrugged as we reached the banks of the loch.

It was breathtaking.

The hills on the other side were blanketed in the snow, and the sun’s rays made it seem like it wasn’t snow at all, but millions upon millions of sparkly little diamonds all knitted together to create the most wonderful kaleidoscope of glitter.



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