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“I told Aria that was the problem,” J.T. said.
“It’s not like that. I’m just staying with her for right now and—”
“What do you mean ‘it’s not like that’? Is she pretty?”
Graydon’s voice softened. “She’s beautiful. She has long blonde hair—natural blonde—and—”
“There’s only one way a man can be sure of a woman’s natural hair color,” J.T. said. Graydon couldn’t help laughing. Age hadn’t killed his grandfather’s love of life!
“The young lady and I spent the day cleaning up after a wedding, and afterward we went swimming in our underwear. It didn’t leave much to my imagination. Toby and I are just—”
“So help me, if you tell me that the two of you are just friends, I’ll disown you. The real question is, Does she make your blood boil?”
“Oh, yes!” Graydon said, and he suddenly realized that he wanted to say the truth out loud. “Sometimes I feel like one of my warrior ancestors and I want to throw her across my shoulder and run off with her. That I can’t touch her, can only look at her, makes me crazy. Granddad? She can tell me from Rory.”
J.T. was quiet for a moment. He was of a different generation than his grandson and he strongly believed in the old family legends. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. When I said I was Rory, she got angry because I was lying. Then later Rory dressed up like me and put on his bad imitation of me and … Anyway, she knew who he was instantly.”
“I’m sorry,” J.T. said, his voice barely a whisper. They both knew what was involved in this. When he was a young American soldier, J.T. had nearly killed himself fighting against centuries of tradition within the Lanconian royal family and their retainers. He’d made a lot of progress, but he hadn’t changed the system of whom his grandson would marry. That Graydon had found a woman who might mean more to him than just someone to sit beside him on a throne made J.T. feel deeply, deeply sad. “How can I help you?”
“I want you to get someone to send me some clothes from the early 1800s.” J.T. couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “And here I was thinking you wanted me to tackle your mother on your behalf.”
“How could I do that to you, Granddad? I love you, and I want you to continue living.”
J.T. laughed. “If your mother realizes what’s going on between you and your brother, nobody will live through it. Will you be back for the … you know?” He couldn’t bring himself to say “the engagement ceremony.”
“Yes,” Graydon said. “I plan to return in plenty of time for that. But what about the clothes? Can you get them for me?”
“Sure. I’ll have your grandmother send one of those girls she bosses around to search.”
“Good! I’ll send you the details of sizes and such later, but mainly I just need something that will dazzle Victoria Madsen.”
“The writer? Aria loves her books and when I tell her who it’s for she’ll have the whole palace working for her.”
“Just so Mother doesn’t hear about it and get suspicious,” Graydon said. He wanted to talk to his grandfather about how his mother spoke to Rory, but not on the phone. He’d do that in person.
“Don’t worry. She’s otherwise occupied. I take it you’re instructing Rory, because he’s dealt well with two ambassadors.”
“I’m on the phone and Skype with him hourly.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let duties take away time with your girl. Send me a photo of her, will you? And, Gray? I love you too.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t do this without you.” They said goodbye and hung up.
It wasn’t until three P.M., ten in Lanconia, that Graydon could get away from the phone. He turned it off, tossed it to Daire, and said “Let’s go!” to Toby, and they left the house. As soon as they were outside, he told her of the call to his grandfather. “So you’ll be able to put on your pretty dress and I’m sure Victoria will agree to the wedding.”
“I hope you’re right.” She walked ahead of him and looked back. “Too bad Daire won’t wear the costume. He’d be gorgeous!”
“Not pale and short like me?”
The sun was at his back and it seemed to form a halo of light around him. Whether it was the light or just her growing familiarity with him, right now she didn’t think she’d ever seen a better looking man. She turned away, afraid he’d read her thoughts on her face. He’s not mine, she reminded herself.
When they reached the front door of the old house his relatives had bought, Graydon pulled from his pocket a key that was as big as his hand.
“Where did you get that?” Toby asked.
“Aunt Cale sent it to me. My question is how you got into the house without it.”
