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Freya’s lips quirked into a little smile as she looked at her. “How do you know?”
“She knows everything,” I retorted.
Grace swatted me, but there was laughter in her eyes. “He’s been trying to buy a new horse for three years, but nobody will sell to him. There was an issue at his stables where he was hiring underage stable hands so he could pay them less than minimum wage and the horses weren’t getting correct care. I have a cousin who went out there when she was in veterinary school for her equine studies and apparently his stables were appalling. Don’t do it.”
“You’re like a walking encyclopaedia, do you know that?” I looked down at her.
“Interesting,” Freya said, looking in the direction Grandpa had just walked in. “I remember hearing he was being investigated for something, but it was all very hush-hush.”
Grace held out her empty hand. “There you go. It was his care. It might be different now but go and see the stables before selling to him. Although if the horses are good enough to be gifted to the monarch, they’re far too good for him and he probably can’t afford them either.”
“Why can’t he afford them? He’s hardly on the poverty line,” I replied.
“Isn’t he?” she asked me innocently. “Do you know that for sure?”
“What do you know that we don’t?” Freya asked, stifling a grin. “And how do you know this stuff given you’ve removed yourself entirely from these circles?”
Grace sighed heavily. “I’m forced into monthly dinners with my father and his wife. Carmen is a notorious gossip and insists on sharing it all with me even though I’ve told her I don’t give a damn.”
“Can I come to these dinners?” my sister questioned. “They sound far more interesting than our family dinners.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Please do. I’ll never turn down reinforcements.”
Freya leant into Grace. “I changed the seating plan,” she whispered with a smile. “She’s at the back of the room for dinner and you’re at the front on the family table.”
“Not the top table,” I replied. “I want to take my tie off when we’re done.”
“You’re not taking off your tie, William.” Freya tugged on the one I was currently wearing. “You’re the bride’s brother, and you will be dressed appropriately until I tell you otherwise.”
“I thought you were over your bridezilla phase.”
“Not where you’re concerned.” She tapped my cheek, grinned, then squeezed Grace’s upper arm gently and swept off to speak to someone in another group.
Grace laugh, turning to watch her go. “She’s so fun.”
“You and I find enjoyment in very different things,” I said dryly. “That’s not a word I’d use to describe her.”
“You’re just salty you can’t take off your tie.” She spun into me and tapped my chest. “Do you think we’re pulling this off?”
I peered down at her. “Get any closer to me and I’ll be tempted to go upstairs and pull off that dress.”
Her cheeks flushed red. “That’s not what I meant!”
“I know, and I don’t care.” I snaked my arm fully down her side, pulling her into me. “I happen to think you look great in green, and I’m trying very hard to behave myself.”
She tilted her head back and looked up at me, her cheeks still slightly tinted pink. “Stop flirting with me, William.”
“Absolutely not.” I dipped my chin, bringing my face close to hers. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m allowed to flirt with you.”
“No, I—”
I pressed my lips to hers before she could finish that sentence. “Shh,” I whispered. “Someone might hear you.”
“Why? Because you’ll have to stop doing that?”
“Kissing you? I highly doubt it. You’re not exactly stopping it, are you?”
