Right Number, Wrong Girl

“So—Camilla’s things are on the table in the library, but she wants to see the gardens to see if there are any spring flowers for the party. Can you make sure nobody touches her belongings, please?”

She nodded her head. “I’ll make sure it’s left alone, my lord.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I turned back to Sophie and nodded. “Come on. It’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” she said softly to Cassandra as we passed. When we were clear of her, she glanced over at me. “Smooth lie.”

“I needed a valid reason to be taking you outside. So you could tell me something confidential didn’t seem like something the staff ought to know.” My lips curled to one side, and I opened the back door for her then stepped aside to let her go first.

She turned to the side and slid past me, brushing against my body. My jaw tightened and I forced it to slacken—making a move on her wasn’t the smartest thing in the world for me to do, especially in the mood she was in right now.

I closed the door behind me and walked away from the patio into the rose garden. The bushes were just coming to life, and their leaves were unfurling in shades of green and burnt orange and red, making it bright and colourful even though the flowers themselves weren’t even buds yet.

“Pretty,” Sophie muttered from beside me.

I glanced down at her with a small smile.

Yeah.

The flowers, too.

“If you’re happy to walk for a couple more minutes, there’s a brick summerhouse on the lake. We’ll be able to talk there.”

“That’s fine. How big is this place?”

I laughed. “Endless, it can seem. The formal gardens stretch out pretty far, but we make a fair amount of money from the admissions from the general public. That rose garden we walked through is Mum’s personal one. She likes fresh flowers in the house, and she’s quite particular about it.”

“I’m surprised,” she replied dryly. “I can’t imagine her gardening.”

“Believe it or not, it’s when she’s happiest. She won’t even let the gardener touch it.” I put my hands in my pockets. “I’m pretty sure the only reason we have the summerhouse is because she uses it to escape to when she’s had enough.”

“Do you not come out here?”

“I fish here sometimes, but everything is so busy going into the summer that I don’t have that much spare time. This year we want to do up one of the old farmhouses and rent it out.”

“As a farm? Or a holiday let?”

“Dad wants another farm, but I think it should be a holiday let. I know a lot of locals don’t like it, but tourists do bring good money to the village. Besides, it’s not like we’re buying up property to rent out. It already belongs to us.”

“That makes sense. I think it’s an issue with a lot of rural communities. People buying property and renting it out or second homeowners buying houses and leaving them sitting empty. There’s a lot of that at home, too.”

“London?”

“Norfolk.” She laughed lightly. “Near where I grew up, a lot of people had to leave because they were priced out of the housing market.”

“Is that why you’re in London?”

“If I can’t afford a house in Norfolk, whatever makes you think I can afford one in London?”

“Excellent point. It’s extortionate.”

“Don’t you have property there?”

“Technically it’s the estate’s property,” I said slowly. “My grandpa bought it before prices skyrocketed. We got lucky, I suppose. But we all use it whenever we need to go to London, like Mum is now.”

“Why is she there?”

“No idea. Some business thing. Mum had her own inheritance from her grandparents and she’s pretty good with investments, so she often has stuff to do in London.”