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“Are you not used to people buying you dinner?”
“Not at sixteen pounds for a glass of wine, no. I’m slightly afraid to check the food.” I glanced at the menu again.
He watched me for a second. “My grandfather owns a castle, and these people call me Lord Kinkirk. I can afford it.”
“You say that, but there was a guy in my class who claimed to be a Viscount, using his father’s secondary title, and he was as skint as they come.”
William pressed his lips together. “Aristocracy is a mixed bag.”
“Okay, if you say so.” I held my finger on the drinks page and skipped back a few to the main menu.
And I winced.
Physically winced at the pricing of the food here.
Holy moly macaroni.
I looked over the table. William was watching me, lips curled in amusement.
“Uh,” I whispered.
“Are you really that uncomfortable?” he asked quietly, not that softness of his voice made any difference to the fact he looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
“A little bit,” I replied honestly. “It’s not the kind of place I usually eat.”
He held my gaze for a moment before a giant smile broke out across his face. A laugh escaped his lips, and he closed his menu, gaze still fixed on mine. “Thank God. Come on. I know somewhere else.”
He got up and walked to me, holding out his hand.
“What?”
“Let’s go,” he said, shaking his hand for me to take it. “Grab our coats and we’ll go somewhere else.”
“What?”
When I didn’t move, he walked behind my chair and swiftly pulled it out from under the table. “Let’s go,” he repeated, grabbing my hand to tug me up.
I snatched my bag up and hurried after him, my fingers clasped tightly in his. “What are you doing?”
“Lord Kinkirk, is there a problem?” Mr. McGowan said at the host’s station.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. McGowan,” William replied in what I assumed was his best diplomatic voice. “But Grace and I will have to go. I’ve just had a call from my mother regarding a drama with my sister’s wedding that we have to attend to.”
“Oh, goodness, of course. Would you like to rebook your table?”
“Not right now, I’m sorry. Too much drama with the wedding.”
“Of course. Give me a moment, please, and I’ll fetch your coats.” Mr. McGowan disappeared into the side room, and I turned to William with wide eyes.
“Shh,” he whispered, right as the older man returned with our coats.
He handed William his then held mine for me to slip my arms into, which I gratefully did, before I took my scarf from him.
“Thank you,” William said. “I’m so sorry for this.”
“Please, don’t worry, my Lord. It’s not a problem. I hope you resolve the problem.”
“So do I. Thank you. Come on, we have to go.”
