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Grace stared at her for a long second before she blinked, shaking off whatever fog had momentarily descended on her. “Oh, no, sorry. I’ve not long been awake, and I don’t think my brain is fully working yet. Please don’t worry,” she said, shaking Freya’s hand.
“Please do worry,” I echoed. “It’s too early for your drama.”
Freya glared at me. “I have no Internet in this place, and Grandpa had his butler change the Wi-Fi password.”
I fought back a grin.
“I need to see the weather in case anyone needs to change travel plans.”
“We can clear the road to Duncree,” I pointed out. “The groundskeepers can use the gritter on one of the tractors.”
“Fantastic, then let’s hope all our guests are already in Duncree, ready to be whisked over here on the back of John Deere’s bloody finest.”
I sighed and looked at Grace. She was tapping away on her phone. “What are you doing?”
She peered up at me. “I’m checking the weather. What else would I be doing, given the topic of conversation?”
Freya looked between us and threw out her arm. “How is it possible that I’ve known her for two minutes and I already like her more than I like you?”
I shrugged. “You’ve hated me ever since you laid eyes on me.”
“Yes. You peed on me. It wasn’t the best start to a sibling relationship.”
“Mm, that wasn’t my fault though, was it?”
“You peed on me and my favourite teddy. Yes. That’s your fault.”
“I was four hours old. Not really.”
Freya glared. “I’ll do something that isn’t my fault in a minute.”
Grace laughed, making us both stop and look at her. “I have never seen two adults bicker like this in my life.”
“Sorry,” I said. “We’ll try to stop.”
“Oh, please don’t. I’m having the best time.”
My sister’s lips tugged into a semblance of a smile. “Well, at least she’ll survive the week. Dare I ask about the weather?”
Grace’s shoulders heaved. “It doesn’t look great. It seems to be a storm system moving in.” She pushed off the doorframe and walked over to us. “Two different ones are meeting right over us. It looks like Scotland and northern England are going to be completely covered.”
“Brilliant.” Freya said, sniffing. “How is anyone going to get here?”
“Snowshoes?” I offered. “There are likely sleds somewhere. Maybe some skis. Find a few huskies and we’ll be all right.”
“You’re not helping.” Grace prodded me in the shoulder.
“Ah, see, you’ve mistaken me for someone who was trying to.”
She sighed. “If you’re not going to help, is there something else you could be doing? Other than pissing off your very stressed, very upset sister.”
“You’re my new favourite person,” Freya muttered, undoing the buttons of her coat.
Oh, no.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
She was going to stay here forever with her panicking.
