He just pulls me tighter, and I burrow deeper into his jacket, laying my face on his chest. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to pull away. We stand like that for what seems like hours. I flick through the various expressions my mother would have if I told her I met a duke and duchess, if I described staying in a place like Fairfield, if she saw the ring on my left hand. If I told her I was sharing a bedroom with a man like Ben.
When I let myself surface from all thewishesandshould-have-beens, I press my palms against Ben’s chest and step back.
“Sorry,” I say.
“No need to apologize. You’ve been going through a lot recently.”
I can’t help it—I start to laugh. From the outside, I might look like I’m bouncing from one extreme emotion to the next. Maybe my laugh is an expression of complete terror. “What, because my career is on the brink, I have nowhere to live, and my real fiancé dumped me?” I shake my head. “Things could be worse. I’m in a wonderful country, staying at the very fancy house of a real-life duke and duchess. And I get to hang out with you.”
He cups my face, sweeping his thumbs across my cheeks. It’s as if he’s using his body to say,It’s okay, I’ve got you,and I feel it in my bones. “Is hanging out with me in the plus category or the minus category?” He gives me a half smile and raises his eyebrow as he releases me.
I nudge him. “Oh, you’re in a swing seat. Depends on the hour.”
We start to wander back toward the house. I really hope we’re heading to the walled garden. The scene filmed there lives rent-free in my brain, and I must see it.
“You’re going to be thirty thousand dollars richer by the end of the weekend,” he adds. “That has to be in the plus category.”
I’d almost forgotten about the money. “You see? Life’s so good that didn’t even feature in my Top Three at the moment,” I say.
“Good to know.” He looks at me for a beat too long, and I can’t decide whether he’s feeling sorry for me or if it’s something else. “Shall we head to this walled garden you’re so excited to see?”
Without thinking about it, and without anyone watching, I slip my hand into his. He squeezes like he’s been waiting for it.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from a walled garden, but I’m not disappointed. It might be the prettiest place I’ve ever seen. The crumbling, redbrick walls are covered in climbing roses in pink and white and yellow and red, like daubs of paint in a toddler’s artwork. Down the middle of the oblong-shaped garden, there’s a runway of grass three or four yards wide, stretching from the pretty wrought-iron gate we’ve just come through right to the other end about one hundred yards away. On either side are large borders of flowers—more roses and other blooms I don’t recognize. There are so many it looks like a bouquet in a vase, like they’re growing together in a floral rainbow.
It might be September, but this garden seems to be at its peak—overflowing with color. Every now and then, grass walkways run at right angles to the main stretch of grass, leading through the beds and to the side of the garden so visitors can see the blooms from every angle. Despite never having been here before, it looks entirely familiar. It looks just like it did in the movie.
“It’s so pretty,” I say. “Really breathtaking.”
“It helps that the sun is shining,” Ben says. “The upkeep on this place must be astronomical.”
I can’t help but smile to myself at the typically practical lens through which he sees the world. He’s right about the sun, though—the bright-blue, cloudless sky helps bring the place to life. The light reflecting off the brickwork makes the walls almost sparkle andinjects an air of magic to the place. I’m so lucky to have gotten to come here—not only because of the Daniel De Luca connection but also because it’s just so special. I’m genuinely having a great time.
“It’s worth every penny,” I reply. “It’s the most beautiful house and grounds. Completely magical.”
“You like it? I thought you were a city girl?”
“I love the city, but I grew up in the country. I have both in me. The duke and duchess have the perfect balance, what with a town house in London and then this place to retreat to whenever they wish. If only I had millions in the bank. That’s exactly how I’d live my life.” I let out a laugh at the idea.
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
“It seems heartbreaking for the place to go to someone else eventually, after being in their family for so long. What will happen to it if they don’t have any children?”
“No idea. I suppose it will get sold by whoever inherits it.”
“You should buy it,” I say. “You seem to have more money than God. If you promise to keep it and not make it into a hotel or something, the duke might sell the hotels to you as well. Like a package deal or something.”
“It’s a good idea, except if he won’t sell the hotels, he’s not going to part with the house they both have such affection for.”
Grumpiness notwithstanding, Ben has an uncanny ability to understand people.
“True,” I say. “What is it about the hotels that makes you want them so badly? Surely there are other things to invest in.”
“I have my reasons,” he says.
Another thing I like about Ben: I ask him a question he doesn’t want to answer, and he doesn’t lie to me. He doesn’t even skirt the question and give me a nonanswer. He just tells me he’s not going to tell me. My dad would answer the exact same way. It would be so easy to make something up—It’s a great investmentorI suspect there’s oil in the grounds—but he doesn’t. I haven’t known him long, but I supposeit’s one of the reasons it feels like I can trust him. One of the reasons I feel so safe around him.
“Aha,” I say. “I’ll have to dig deeper if I want my answer.”