Page 66 of Too Good to Be True


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What was going on here?

I narrowed my eyes on her as if that could help me figure it out.

“Well, we’re back, and Daniel’s nervous as hell,” she announced. “He’s worried he’s upset you and you’ll make me pay for it.”

“I don’t know whose idea it was for you two to skip this idyllic interlude in the middle of fucking nowhere, but whoever that was, I can confirm. Yes, they’ve upset me. But no, I won’t make them pay for it. However, there’s going to be some work to be done to repair the damage.”

“Always kissing Daphne’s ass,” she mumbled irately. “I’ve had a lifetime of it.”

Oh no she didn’t.

“Really? Like when I covered for you when you took off with your friends that night you were grounded? Then, when Dad found out we both lied, I got grounded too. Was that you kissing my ass?”

She glared at me.

“Or when I talked Dad into not losing his fucking mind when you had your friends over and you drank and then puked up the entirety of his fifty-thousand-pound bottle of Cognac?”

She started to look uncomfortable.

“And was it you kissing my ass when I spent all last week working with my staff to manage the patisserie while I was away so I could be here for you and Daniel?” I demanded.

“You’ve made your point,” she clipped.

“I hope so,” I retorted.

“And somehow, in…like…a day…you’ve managed to insinuate yourself into the queen’s quarters.”

That threw me.

“What?”

“The Rose Room is Lady Alcott’s room. It always has been.”

“Not always, as it isn’t now.”

She stared hard at me. “The heir is almost of age.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“It’s part of the covenants.”

“What is?”

“When the heir apparent reaches age thirty-eight, they inherit everything. If the current earl is still living, he can remain at Duncroft, but only with the permission of the new earl.”

Holy shit!

Really?

“Ian turns thirty-eight next month. It’s tradition, so Jane moved out of this room only a month ago,” she concluded.

No wonder Bonnie gasped when Ian announced I was moving into this room.

“I…that’s weird. Isn’t it weird?” I asked. “Charles waited seventy-four years to succeed.”

“Sorry, Daph,” she sneered. “I haven’t memorized the history of the Alcott earldom. But somewhere along the way, it happened, and it’s unalterable. Daniel told me many an earl tried to change it before his time was up, but it’s carved in stone.”

She threw both hands out before her and separated them, like a car model showing off a new car.

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