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“Piss off.”
***
“There you are. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Grace looked up from the sofa in the library and grinned at me. “You left directions to the library. Where else did you think I’d be?”
“I don’t know. Being chased by Chewy?”
“Damn bird will be the death of me,” Grandpa said, emerging from behind a bookshelf. “It’s only you, Will, isn’t it?”
I did a double take at his quick appearance. “Where did you come from?”
“He’s hiding,” Grace said, carefully turning the page of her book. “Everyone has been shouting at him, so I’m keeping a lookout. We thought you were your sister for a moment.”
I looked at the two of them and their… well, not so unlikely alliance, actually. I wasn’t surprised they were both in here looking through what appeared to be history books.
“No. Freya is surprisingly calm this morning. Whatever you said to her earlier, worked,” I said to Grace.
“Oh, good. I found her practically hyperventilating about shoes and had to talk her down. I’m glad it worked.”
Grandpa looked at me. “Keep this one.”
Grace laughed, shaking her head.
What kind of an alternate universe had I walked into?
“Hey, did you know our families have history?” Grace looked over at me. “We’ve been trawling through the history books all morning.”
I looked at Grandpa.
“He knows,” she said, nonplussed. “Apparently Granny shows me off whenever she can, so your grandma recognised me right away.”
Grandpa nodded sagely. “We thought there had to be a reason for you simply introducing her as Grace, so we didn’t say anything.”
What the fuck was going on?
Grace looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “I explained we didn’t want anyone to put any expectations on our relationship, so we kept it to ourselves since we haven’t been together long.”
I was starting to think she would be good in international espionage.
“Right. Sorry, Grandpa. I wasn’t bringing her originally because of that, but it was better than who Mum said you were trying to set me up with.”
“That’s not the compliment you think it is,” she replied breezily.
Grandpa chuckled, pulling a book off the shelf. “She’s right. Anyway, we respect your decision, and now that I’ve seen for myself you have good taste in women, I’ll leave you to it.”
No.
I’d walked into a parallel universe.
“Thanks,” I said slowly. “So what’s this about our family history?”
Grace picked up a book, showing it to me. “It’s four generations back,” she said, flipping the pages. “This… is my great-great-great-great aunt… for simplicity’s sake.”
I perched on the arm of the sofa, leaning over her. “That’s the eighth Duchess of Glenroch.”
“Aye,” Grandpa said. “Married the eighth Duke.”
