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“There’s something weird about your girlfriend.”
I strained the teabags. “Good morning to you, too, Freya. Is this line of thought to stop you freaking out about the twenty-thousand feet of snow outside?”
“Yes, it is. Oh, good morning. Can I have some of that tea? I tried going into the main kitchen, but I was kicked out by the catering staff. Apparently, Grandma has enlisted half of Scotland to cater the wedding.”
I looked at her as she sat at the table. “Just as well, given that you invited half the country to begin with.”
“Oh, don’t start with me. I’m not freaking out at the moment, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Look at you, being considerate of other people.”
“Indeed. Have you heard from any of your friends if they’re able to make it?”
“I have. Alexander and Adelaide, Matthew and Eva, and Gabriella and Miles are all flying into Edinburgh today. Matthew and Eva were in Devon, and they have no snow down there.”
“Edinburgh? That’s not exactly close.”
“Miles assured me they had it figured out,” I replied, putting a cup of tea in front of her. “I haven’t heard from anyone else yet. I did text Hugo and Fred last night, but nothing yet.”
Freya’s head bobbed. “I’m glad the twins and Gabriella are able to come. I was starting to think I’d have no friends here.”
“You? No friends? Surely not.”
“William, for God’s sake.”
“I’m kidding.” I touched her hand. “Do you want some breakfast with that tea?”
She shook her head. “I’d like the snow to stop.”
“I think we all feel that way.” I smiled softly. “Now, I believe you were telling me there was something weird about my girlfriend.”
“Aside from the fact she’s not your actual girlfriend, of course,” Freya said with a sly grin.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I had my suspicions and did some digging. Absolutely nobody had any idea you were seeing anyone,” she continued. “So I can only deduce you’re faking it to stop Grandpa setting you up with someone.”
“Well, bloody hell, we’ve got Sherlock Holmes here. Call Scotland Yard,” I said dryly. “Yes, it’s fake, and no, you can’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t be daft. I went through the grandparent matchmaking service, do you remember? He spent six months trying to marry me off to the future Duke of Renfrew, and he’s a dreadful turd.”
I cradled my mug, leaning forwards on the countertop. “I do remember those summers.”
“Exactly. That was only one of them. I’d never subject you to such misery.” She sipped her tea. “But Grace—do you not think there’s something strange about her?”
“I can’t say I’ve thought about it. Why?”
“I feel like I know her.” Freya frowned, and little lines appeared in her forehead. “We obviously spent the day together yesterday, and something about her feels so familiar. Like I’ve met her before. Do you not feel it?”
“I… guess,” I replied slowly. “I had a similar feeling when we met, but then she studies at Cambridge. It’s similar circles. I assumed we’d seen each other during the university years because I can’t place her.”
“It’s so odd. It’s really annoying me, Will. I know I know her from somewhere, but I just can’t place her. I even tried searching for her on social media and she’s not there.”
“At all?”
“No. No Instagram, no Facebook… I even did something dodgy and looked back to the MySpace and Bebo days.”
“Maybe we should call the police. On you,” I clarified. “That’s weird, Freya.”
