Page 73 of Filthy Rich

I nodded again, still focused on the countryside as he held me close. “Can you tell me a little about your family before we get there?” I asked, content and warm with Caleb wrapped around me like a blanket and the comforting view out the window.

“Sure. I think you’re going to like them a lot. They already love you, and they haven’t even met you yet.”

I took a deep breath as I settled, listening to the steady voice of my husband as he described the people he clearly adored:

There was Hannah who ran the B&B at Hallborough House, the ancestral estate of the Greymonts, set along the scenic Somerset coast. He told me about her physician husband, Dr. Fred Greymont, and their three children—two older boys, Colin and Jordan, and a little girl, Zara, about five or six. Hannah also had a brother, Ethan, who had a country home nearby and would also be there with his American wife and baby daughter. Caleb and Ethan were about the same age and kept up with each other on Facebook, and even did some business between their two companies. He mentioned that Ethan and his wife, Brynne, hadn’t been married all that long, describing their posh country wedding last year at Hallborough, and how all of Caleb’s family had come over for the wedding. It was the final family tripfor their father before he passed away. I’d also meet Jonathan Blackstone and his wife Marie. Jonathan and Caleb’s dad had been close, and the backbone of the relationship between the American and British Blackstones.

It was a lot to take in, but I was grateful for the distraction. I was looking forward to meeting them all, they sounded so lovely, but truth be told, the country-manor-turned-B&B—Hallborough House—was what I found the most intriguing of all. There was something about the name of the house that rang a bell with me. I had my suspicions as to why, but couldn’t be sure until I saw it with my own eyes.

CALEB

Brooke had been quiet in the car on the drive up from London, as if she were deep in thought, or maybe she was just processing the emotions from being back in England after such a long period of a time. We hadn’t really done much at all since arriving in London, except for a quick stop to collect our warmer clothing, and a fantastic Christmas dinner last night in Covent Garden at a new place called Frog. In December, Hawaii and England are on such opposite ends of the thermometer, I’d called ahead and had a shopper pull together winter wardrobes for both of us, so we’d be set up for the wintry weather the minute the Gulfstream landed.

But it wasn’t the snowy weather causing my Brooke to tremble. I’d sensed excitement from her as we came through the gates of Hallborough and up the drive to the front of the stately manor house. I had to help her out first, so I could deal with paying the driver and our luggage, but when I turned back to her a few moments later, I got the best surprise of the day. My wifewas grinning from ear to ear as she took selfies standing in front of Hallborough House.

“So, I gather you like the house.”

“It’s beautiful.” She gestured for me to come to her. “Take a selfie with me. I want pictures of us here.”

I complied, but had to wonder why she was so excited by the house itself. But before I could ask, I felt little arms wrapped around my legs from behind along with the excited thumps from wagging dog tails.

“Uncle Caleb!”

“Who is that grabbing me, and why are there wolves attacking?” I teased.

She popped her head around with a giggle. “It’s Zara, and they’re just dogs, not wolves. This is Rags and that one is Sir, Auntie Brynne’s dog,” she explained patiently with a pat to each dog’s head as she named them. “They like playing outside in the snow.”

“I don’t blame them. I’d play in the snow too if I had their fur.”

She just stared up at us in all her adorableness.

“Well, I am very sorry I didn’t recognize you right away because you’ve grown so much since I was here the last time.” I crouched down to her height so we could speak eye to eye. “How old are you again?” I asked.

“Five.” She held up one hand with her fingers splayed out.

“Are you sure you’re not twenty-five? You’ve grown a lot.” I thought it was sweet she called me ‘uncle’ when I really wasn’t. Obviously her parents had referred to me that way. Charmed the hell out of me, regardless.

She giggled again and nodded her head. “Iamfive right now, but I’ll be six on my birthday,” she explained patiently. She focused her attention on Brooke before asking, “Are you Uncle Caleb’s native wife?”

Brooke bent down to join our little conversation, stifled a laugh and answered, “Yes, I am his native wife. I’m Brooke, and I’m pleased to meet you, Zara.” She held out her hand.

“Pleased to meet you, and welcome to Hallborough House, we hope you enjoy your stay here with us,” Zara answered back, shaking Brooke’s hand with complete sincerity, as if she’d done it many, many times before. It made sense since she was used to guests coming into her home constantly, but seeing a little girl take on the role of concierge was priceless.

“Was it your mom or your grandpa who said Brooke was a ‘native’?” I couldn’t resist asking, and I knew she would tell me. Zara was honest to a fault underneath all that charm. If I ever had a daughter, I hoped she might be like her. This kid was one in a million.

“Uncle Ethan said it,” she informed us.

Not a surprise. I knew Ethan would get a laugh out of the fact I married a Brit, especially since he’d recently married an American.

Zara took each of us by the hand and steered us toward the house. “Let’s go in now, the boys will come for your bags and take them to your room.” Hannah and Freddy were obviously raising their kids right, teaching them to help with the family business.

“Do you know what ‘native’ means, Zara?” Brooke asked as we walked, our footsteps crunching along the snowy ground.

“Yes,” she said with a serious nod of her head, “It means you know the Queen, and can say your words properly.”

I just about died laughing right there in the snow.

BROOKE

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