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Some people just had it. Whateveritwas, she hadit. That ooh-la-la, lah-di-dah.
It.
You know.
“Grandma. Sorry if I worried you.” Will hugged her back, and she released him in just enough time to look me over and smile.
“You worried us when you left without letting us know where you were going,” the man said—presumably his grandfather. He fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt before focusing on William with a firm look.
“I did put a note on the fridge, Grandpa,” Will said. “And told both Craig and Shirley that I was going to Inverness to get Grace from the airport.”
“Evidently the message didn’t get passed on,” his grandfather responded. “A direct message would be appreciated next time.”
“Understood, Grandpa.”
The Duchess of Glenroch cleared her throat and looked pointedly at William and then me in the way that said she expected an introduction to be undertaken five minutes ago.
I swallowed my smile.
William sniffed, coughed, and stepped towards me. “Grandpa, this is Grace…” He trailed off because of course, I’d never told him my surname. Recovering quickly, he laid a hand on my back and motioned his other between us. “Grace, this is my grandfather, Angus. The Duke of Glenroch.”
The duke stared at me for a moment, and all the things Will had said about him in the brief few minutes before we’d arrived flashed through my mind, and so did my childhood of being surrounded by aristocrats of various rankings.
“Your Grace,” I said softly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The only hint of surprise was in the twitch of his eyebrows. “And you, Grace. I hear you’re studying for your PhD at Cambridge University.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a history graduate there.”
“Fascinating. I’m an Oxford man myself, as is William, but I’m a fellow history graduate. I’d like to hear about your area of study for your PhD.”
My cheeks pinkened slightly. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you.”
“This is my wife, Morag.” Angus ushered her forwards. “The Duchess of Glenroch.”
Morag’s demeanour was far gentler than her husband’s, and her smile made her eyes twinkle with something that was a lot more playful than I’d expected from a couple that seemed so formal. “Grace,” she said warmly, taking my hands in hers. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her. “The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.”
“Oh, please, call me Morag,” she replied, squeezing my hands. “Why, you’re practically family.”
I was?
That was news to me.
Morag released my hands, and I shot William a look. He looked as alarmed as I felt, and his grandfather turned around to face the house.
Apparently, it was news to him, too.
That didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.
“Then I suppose you should call me Angus, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” Angus said with a withering sigh.
Morag winked at me, and I fought back a smile, although it didn’t kill the fizzle of nervousness that was balled in the pit of my belly.
What did she mean, I was practically family?
I barely knew William, never mind anyone else!
