B+.
And it was not good enough. Not for me. I knew I could have done better on that garden plan if only I hadn’t left it to the last minute, so my first job this morning was to head out there. I planned to set up a table and chair with my laptop and notepad and see if working there would continue to inspire me.
Something had to. Lord knows standing in the shower for twenty minutes replaying last night’s kiss with Miles wasn’t achieving anything other than getting me all hot and bothered.
After we’d kissed, we’d gone back inside. We’d gotten another drink, joined the rest of the party, and both of us had left within the next hour.
Midnight was getting harder and harder to stay up till, let me tell you.
Today was Sunday and he wasn’t working, and I was a little glad of that. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to him now. All the things he’d said last night had spun round and round my mind for hours on end.
He was falling for me.
He was falling in love with me.
And he’d tried to avoid me because he thought it was best if I married someone my father wanted me to.
Well, let’s be honest. If any of the men in my social groups were my future husband, I’d have figured it out by now. It wasn’t like titles or heirs changed every day, was it?
Besides, I didn’t care. That had always been and always would be the biggest issue between me and my father—I just didn’t care. I didn’t care if I married the future King of England or a shelf stacker at the local supermarket, as long as it was a marriage for the right reasons.
Not that the only future King of England was an option for me.
He’d already been snagged—and by a commoner, too.
If it was good enough for William, it was good enough for me.
Not that I was thinking about marrying Miles.
Oh, no.
Maybe. Just once or twice. Fleeting fantasies, you know?
This morning called for a coffee. A cup of tea just wasn’t going to cut it today. There had been far too much wine and not nearly enough sleep last night.
This was why I didn’t like parties.
The kitchen was empty when I entered, and I made my way over to the coffee machine to turn it on. There were all kinds of buttons and knobs on the model Aunt Cat had chosen, and I didn’t have the foggiest idea how it worked.
“Good morning, milady,” Arthur said, entering the room. “Did you sleep well?”
“No, not particularly,” I replied, studying the machine. “Do you know how to work this thing? It seems unnecessarily complicated.”
“It is, and I afraid I’m not terribly familiar with it. I tried to tell your aunt that if she wanted fancy coffees, there’s a Costa in the village, but she told me that was too far away, and the kitchen was much closer.”
“That’s because it is,” Aunt Cat said, following up behind him. She looked as though she’d rolled out of bed and passed through several bushes on the way down—her hair was sticking up at all angles, and she’d missed two buttons on her pyjama top.
“Are you all right?” I enquired, looking at her askance. “What time did you get in last night?”
“No idea,” she responded, pushing me out of the way. “But I’ve not long woken up, and I’m in need of something stronger than tea. Would you like me to make you one?”
“No, thank you,” I said slowly. Unlike her, I was dressed to be seen in public. “I think I’ll drive into the village and stop in the coffee shop for some breakfast.”
“Ooh, would you like some company?”
“No, I have some studying to do.” I collected my laptop from the island where I’d left it last night. “Does anyone need anything while I’m there?”
Arthur cleared his throat. “I don’t like to ask, milady, but since you’re going…”
“Of course, Arthur. What do you need?”
“Would you mind popping into the bakery and picking up the bread order for the week? I usually go into town myself, but of course we have guests, and I need to help prepare the luncheon and make sure the housekeeping staff clean the rooms.”
“No problem at all, it’s only a few stores down from the coffee shop. Will they know what I’m getting? Do you need it back in time for lunch?”
“No, milady, I retrieved that yesterday. This is for your use.” He shifted uncomfortably. “And yes, they know, but they will require payment.”
“That’s fine.” I smiled reassuringly. “As long as they know what I need, or I daresay I’ll end up returning with half their baked goods that will add twenty pounds to my weight by the end of the week.”
“I’ll take a box of eclairs,” Aunt Cat announced. “One of each. I have no qualms about adding a few pounds to me. More of me to love.”