Page 18 of Protecting his Secrets

“Humour has its place, and it isn’t now.”

Malachi bit his lip to stop him from saying anything. He couldn’t argue because all they knew was that he was Malachi Sanders, the reporter wanting to watch the royal family fall. They didn’t know Kai Ruffers, the reporter wanting to celebrate the Sutcliffes in everything they do.

“I want to say thank you for what you did.” He didn’t stop what he was doing.

“It’s no problem.”

Knowing Nick didn’t want to talk about it any longer, he left his suitcase beside the bed after removing the suits. “Are we heading out straight away?”

Nick tilted his head. “Why? Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

Malachi wasn’t one for confrontation, and even after giving himself that pep talk, he still wanted to stand up to Nick. But he refrained. For how long was another question.

“Nope. Just asking.”

Nick put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor for several seconds before clearing his throat. “It’s supposed to rain soon. I’d planned for us to visit the gardens before the weather stopped us. Is that okay with you?”

Malachi nodded. “That sounds great, thanks.” He’d already seen it from his public visits, but he would take whatever olive branch Nick was offering—even if it was with gritted teeth.

Following Nick down the corridor after hanging his suits, they walked out into the gardens, and despite what Malachi had thought, it was an amazing sight. Being able to look down on it from where they were gave a different viewpoint from actually walking in it. He stared into the distance, the grey storm clouds swirling above their heads making visibility less than a clear day, but it was still impressive.

“I’m waiting for permission from Prince Frederick for a tour of Frogmore Cottage. Whether he agrees is up to him,” Nick said.

Malachi hadn’t even known that was on the table. It was so rare to see that house. “Oh, absolutely. I don’t want anyone uncomfortable at having me around.”

“Well, that’s impossible. You’re a reporter, and one who rakes the royals through the coals. How could anyone be comfortable around you when they have no idea how you’re going to take their interactions? When they’re worried you’ll misconstrue everything they say or do.”

Malachi looked away, ashamed once more. He wasn’t wrong, but having it thrown in his face like that was never easy. If only he could tell him… It wouldn’t matter. Nick had his opinions, and nothing Malachi said would change his mind.

“Maybe I should just go,” Malachi said, his fingers digging into the stone wall surrounding the gardens.

Nick sighed. “No. The king wants you here. I’ll do everything that’s asked of me, but I don’t have to like it.” He put his hands on his hips and stared at the ground for a long second before meeting Malachi’s gaze. “I apologise. I will try to temper my words.”

“Please don’t.” Malachi surprised himself with his words, but when he thought about them, it was true. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, unable to meet Nick’s penetrating eyes. He decided to tell some truth. “You might not believe me, but I don’t want to write this. And your comments help remind me that while it’s necessary, it’s short term. So, please, feel free to tell me exactly how you feel.”Even if it cuts into my chest every single time.

Nick didn’t reply, and Malachi turned back to the view, letting the guard stew over his words. When raindrops hit the back of his hands and his face, Nick spoke again.

“We didn’t have as much time as I thought, sorry.”

Malachi waved him away, and they returned inside. “Where to now?” he asked instead.

“From here, we can visit the dining room and kitchens, the receiving room and Prince Consort Kendal’s office. Is there anywhere in particular you were hoping to see? I can’t guarantee it, but depending on what it is, I might be able to.”

“No, thank you. This is wonderful.” And it was. Just because they didn’t like him didn’t mean he couldn’t get some pleasure out of living his dream.

“Okay, then.”

Nick led the way back inside, and Malachi followed, desperate for every glimpse of the place he’d wanted to visit as a kid. It was similar to the public side—he assumed that was to keep in tradition with the family’s ancestors—but there were small differences. Like the flowers on the hall tables. They were different varieties to those on the public side. Was that a conscious effort to have flowers the family liked, or was it nothing of the sort? Or was Malachi thinking too deeply when it was nothing of notice? Probably, but he wanted to know everything about them. He always had.

“Here is the Sutcliffes’ family dining room. As you can see, it’s not much different from a usual dining room, if you exclude the size.” Nick’s mouth twitched as if he was making a joke, and Malachi smiled.

“I bet even this isn’t big enough when everyone comes for dinner,” he said, studying the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. They were chandeliers but much different from the ones he’d seen before.

“Not with how much the family is growing, no.”

“Can I ask, is this where they always eat or just on special occasions?”

Nick cleared his throat. “They’re like any other family, I think. They try to eat together as much as possible, but it’s not always. Sometimes, they like some quiet time and have dinner in their suites.” Nick glanced at him. “They’re human, Malachi.”

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