Royal Holiday

by Guillory, Jasmine

  “Very good. Thank you.”

  The footman nodded and left. As soon as he’d turned away, Malcolm pulled the letter out of the envelope.

  Mr. Hudson,

  Thank you for your kind invitation to introduce me to the Sandringham horses. Nothing could delight me more than to visit the stables with you. I look forward to your call this afternoon.

  Kind regards,

  Ms. Vivian Forest

  He dropped the letter on his desk and laughed out loud. He had a feeling this afternoon would be fun.

  He picked up the phone and called down to the stable manager.

  When Malcolm walked over to Sycamore Cottage a few hours later, he was halfway up the path to the kitchen door before he realized he had to go to the front door for this visit. He couldn’t send over a letter on his heavy stationery and then make Vivian come meet him in the kitchen, no matter how great that kitchen was. So he doubled back around and walked up the steps to the front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open.

  “Mr. Hudson.” The butler reached for his coat. “You’re expected.”

  He handed over his coat.

  “Thank you, James.”

  James showed him into the sitting room, where Vivian sat in front of a fire, drinking a cup of tea, and with a plate piled full of scones in front of her, and small bowls full of cream and jam.

  “Julia found out you were coming by to pick me up, and before I could blink, a mountain of scones appeared. Do you have time for tea and a scone before we leave?”

  He sat down next to her.

  “I always have time for Julia’s scones.”

  She poured him a cup of tea.

  “No milk or sugar in my tea, thank you.” He looked over the tea tray. “I’m surprised Julia didn’t make you any more of those sandwiches you love.”

  A smile danced around her lips.

  “She did, but between me and the Duke, we ate them all.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “Knowing the Duke as I do, that does not surprise me.” He looked around. “Are he and the Duchess home? Is your daughter here?”

  He had been wondering if her daughter would be here when he came to take her over to the stables. He was curious about Maddie; he knew about her job and her background, obviously—it was part of his job to know that—but not what she was like as a person. All he knew was that she’d insisted on bringing her mother with her to England for Christmas, and at this juncture, he was very grateful to her for that.

  She shook her head.

  “No, she and the Duchess went into town to go shopping right after lunch. I think the Duke is off with others in the family.”

  She’d finished her scone, so he took the last bite of his.

  “Well, if they’re all having outings today, I’m pleased you are, too.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

  She took his hand and stood up.

  “We shall.”

  Had she wanted to go shopping instead of going to the stables?

  When they got outside, he turned to her.

  “I’m sorry if I kept you from a shopping trip in town with your daughter and the Duchess,” he said.

  Vivian shook her head.

  “No need—they had a very specific mission, and I would have been in the way. Plus, I wouldn’t turn down the chance to visit the Sandringham stables this afternoon for the world.”

  He turned to her, his eyebrows raised.

  “For the world?” he quoted back to her. That had a good sound to it.

  She looked down, but then looked up straight into his eyes, the smile still hovering around her lips.

  “When am I ever going to have the chance to do this again?” she asked. “I’ve never been to any stables before in my life, and to get invited to see the stables at Sandringham? I’m thrilled.” She glanced at him and grimaced. “And also slightly terrified.”

  He’d assumed that last part, from the look of half wonder, half horror on her face when she’d seen the stables from a distance.

  “There’s nothing to be terrified about,” he said. “The horses will be lovely to you, I promise, and so will the staff.”

  Would she be open to getting on a horse? Would the stable master give her the chance? For some reason, he was very much hoping she’d be able to have this opportunity.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Oh, you can speak for horses now?”

  He nodded seriously.

  “The Queen’s horses are monarchists; they would never dare to mistreat a guest of the royal family.”

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  Chapter Four

  Vivian was strangely nervous about this trip to the stables, despite what she’d said to Malcolm. She hadn’t lied to him—she knew there was no way she’d forgive herself if she’d had the option to see the horses of the actual Queen of England and had gone back to America without doing so. But horses had always intimidated her. They were so big and powerful . . . and expensive. Even though it should have been all of the servants and the huge amounts of land and people throwing around royal titles like it was normal, it was when Malcolm had casually pointed out the stables to her that had made her realize what a different kind of life she’d stepped into.

  She turned to Malcolm as they walked down the path.

  “Is it odd for you, this whole monarchy thing?” When he raised his eyebrows, she shook her head. “Sorry, I know that seems like it came out of nowhere. It’s just that it’s all so foreign to me. The whole idea of having people who, simply by the nature of their birth, get to rule the country, no matter what kind of person they are, is so contrary to everything I know. I understand that ‘rule’ overstates it these days, but you know what I mean. And I get that most British people don’t even think about the monarchy, but you . . .”

  “I live it,” he said. “It’s true; unlike most Brits, the monarchy is part of my daily life. And I’m used to it, and I don’t think about it much, except for the times when I do, then it hits me how . . . strange it all is.”

  They both laughed, Vivian out of relief more than anything else. She’d been worried that she’d offended him, that she was the loud American, coming in and staying on a royal estate and then spouting off about the people who had brought her here. Thank goodness he wasn’t mad.

  “It can be comforting, especially when politics in general is a disaster—at least there’s some permanence in this world. And since politics has been a disaster more than once during my time with Her Majesty, I’m more used to that than the alternative. And I like the whole ritual of it all. My nephew, Miles, always makes fun of how conservative I am”—he winked at her—“with a small c, that is. And I suppose it’s true; I’m a person who tends to like stability, tradition, security.” He laughed. “Miles says I’m a snob, but I prefer to think of it as being wary of taking unnecessary risks. But—especially during times when foreign royals come to visit, and there are other queens and kings around, and they walk together into rooms and there’s a whole procession of people bowing to them—it all feels unbelievably absurd. Even though I’m always one of the people automatically bowing when they walk into a room.”

  She could just picture an entire room of people bowing to a person standing at the front of it. The whole idea felt ridiculous.

  “Wow. That must be so strange to see. And to do.”

  He nodded at her.

  “You have no idea.”

  He stopped and looked around.

  “How in the world did you get me to say all of this, on royal land no less? I’ve kept a stone face about these matters for years. Thank goodness the bulk of the family doesn’t arrive for two more days, otherwise I’d be terrified someone would have heard that ill-considered rant about the institution that keeps me employed.” He peered into her eyes. “Do you have some sort of magic social worker powers, Ms. Forest?”

  She looked straight back at him.

  “Oh absolutely, I alw
ays have. Why did you think I went into social work in the first place?”

  He laughed at her and walked on.

  “Anyway, no more talk about You Know What for the next hour at least, please. I need to stay employed long enough to finish taking you around the stables.”

  He bowed and offered her his arm, and she laughed and took it.

  “I have a feeling, Mr. Hudson, that you’re remarkably good at your job, and it would take a great deal for you to lose it.”

  He grinned at her.

  “You may have a point there. Especially at this time of the year, and with Parliament in chaos once again, in any event,” he said. “But while I don’t plan to stay in this job for the rest of my working life, I do want any decision to leave it to be mine. God save the Queen, et cetera.” He flashed a smile at her, then looked away. “You don’t have much experience in cold weather, do you? You should be wearing a hat.”

  She accepted his change of subject, even though she was dying to talk about all of this more.

  “I have one in my pocket, but I’m not cold enough for it right now.”

  That was definitely a lie. But she knew what hats did to her hair, and she was too vain to let this attractive man see her hair all over the place.

  He looked delicious in his hat, though, especially when he smiled at her like that. She was very glad he’d put it on at the door of Sycamore Cottage.

  After ten more minutes of walking and talking about many things that did not involve the British monarchy, they arrived at the Sandringham stables, aka—she held back a giggle—the Royal Stud.

  “Wow.” They stopped outside the stables, and she took in just how big they were. From what she could tell from the outside, they were probably the size of a few city blocks at home.

  “Wait until you see the inside,” Malcolm said.

  They walked in the open door, and she stopped again to look around. The smell hit her all at once: animals and leather and hay, and yes, manure.

  A man in knee-high boots walked toward them, and Malcolm let go of her arm as he reached out to shake his hand.

  “Vivian, this is Tim. He’s the stable manager here and has been for years. Tim, this is Ms. Vivian Forest. This is all new to her.”

  Tim shook Malcolm’s hand and turned to her. He had a ruddy, wrinkled face, salt-and-pepper hair, and wore a huge smile.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Forest, and welcome to the Sandringham stables. Ever ridden a horse?”

  She laughed and shook her head.

  “Oh definitely not. I’ve probably only ever been this close to a horse on a handful of occasions.”

  He chuckled.

  “Well, this is going to be a treat for you, now, isn’t it? Let’s go introduce you to Polly.”

  Tim strode away without another word. Vivian glanced up at Malcolm. Now she was nervous about this whole excursion again. But he gave her a reassuring smile and tucked her arm in his once more. They followed Tim toward the other end of the . . . Was it one stable they were in? Were there multiple stables? Or was every small room that a horse was in called a stable? She didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. She should have asked Malcolm to clarify the terminology before they arrived.

  They came out near a fenced-in area and followed Tim into another big building that housed horses; whether that was stables or a stable, she had no idea.

  “Good afternoon, girl,” Tim said to a warm brown horse right near the entrance. “Aren’t you looking lovely today? Are you ready for some visitors?”

  Vivian and Malcolm hovered behind him. The horses were so beautiful—sleek, shiny, and she loved seeing their tails twitch back and forth, and their warm, glossy manes.

  They were also big.

  Very big. Taller than both Malcolm and Tim big. And so strong. These weren’t animals to play with or coo over; these were animals that could kill you. She would honestly be very happy to hide behind Malcolm for the rest of her time in these stables and just look at the horses without being too close to them—or, God forbid, having to touch them.

  “Now, we’re going to slip inside,” Tim said.

  “Inside? Inside there? With the horse, too?”

  Tim and Malcolm both laughed. She hadn’t been joking. Could they not see how big these horses were?

  “Yes, we’re going to go inside her stall. Don’t worry, she’s very gentle and she loves people. This is why I thought we should start with Polly.”

  Tim unhooked the door to the stall and walked inside first. Malcolm held out his arm for her to precede him. Oh God.

  She was here, wasn’t she? What was she going to do, chicken out of doing this? She took a deep breath and followed Tim inside the horse’s stall.

  “Do you have a dog, Vivian?” Tim asked her.

  She shook her head. She felt Malcolm’s comforting presence behind her.

  “I used to. Ashby. She was a great dog. I’ve been thinking about getting another, but it just hasn’t been the right time.”

  Tim nodded.

  “Ashby will make this easier. Just think of Polly as a great big version of Ashby, or other dogs you’ve loved. She likes people to pet her, and feed her treats, and give her walks, and tell her she’s a good girl, just like a great dog.”

  Vivian felt her shoulders relax at that description.

  “Okay. Okay, that makes sense,” she said.

  “Good.” Tim reached over and handed her something, and she took it automatically, without looking to see what it was. She opened up her hand and found a sugar cube.

  “Do horses really like these?” she asked. They always had in the books Vivian used to read to Maddie when she was little, but she’d thought that could just be a thing in books.

  “Close your hand, walk a little closer to her head, and slowly lift your hand up to her. You’ll see how much she likes it.”

  Vivian turned and looked up at Malcolm. She didn’t know if he could see the panic in her eyes. She also didn’t know if she wanted him to see it or not.

  Either way, he stuck close to her as she took a few steps to the left and then raised her hand toward Polly. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then the horse bent her head down and nuzzled Vivian’s fist. She laughed and opened her hand, and Polly licked the sugar cube right out of her palm.

  “Oh wow!” Vivian said. Polly bent her head back down and nuzzled Vivian’s hand again. “Sorry, sweetie, there’s no more in here.”

  “Isn’t she great?” Tim said.

  Vivian smiled up at Polly, and she swore the horse smiled back down at her.

  “What a sweetheart.”

  She turned to Tim.

  “Where are the sugar cubes? Can I have another one for her, please?”

  Tim pulled a cube out of one of his many pockets and slipped it in her hand.

  “There are more where those came from. I was thinking, since it’s such a nice day today, that we could take her out into the field and give her a little exercise?”

  Vivian smiled. Only a British person would describe today’s weather, which was in the high thirties at the maximum, as “such a nice day.” But she supposed the sun was out.

  “Sure, that sounds great,” she said.

  Vivian and Malcolm stepped out of the stall so Tim could lead Polly out. Malcolm put his hand on Vivian’s shoulder and smiled down at her.

  “How are you enjoying your first experience with horses?” he asked.

  He’d been worried for a while when they first came into the stables; as soon as they saw the horses, Vivian’s whole body had tensed up. When they’d walked into Polly’s stable, he’d been really afraid she would turn around and go right back out again. But nothing had been as bad as that panicked look she’d given him when Tim had handed her the sugar for the horse. Malcolm had been about five seconds from leaping to her rescue when she’d finally reached her hand up to Polly.

  “I’m glad we came,” she said. “At first I was . . . concerned, about, you know, being this close to enor
mous animals who could kill any one of us. But I do have to admit, Polly is very ingratiating.”

  He laughed. He’d been so relieved when he heard Vivian’s infectious laugh bubble out when Polly had licked her hand.

  “She’s a wonderful horse. Everyone who rides her says she takes great care of them.”

  “Have you ridden her? Do you ride?” Vivian asked.

  “Not Polly, but yes, sometimes. There’s a horse I get on well with here—Luka—but I don’t have the opportunity that often.” He lowered his voice. “I learned as an adult; it was a . . . strategic move. A good skill for me to have, in the jobs I did, just like golfing.”

  When they were all outside, Tim beckoned Vivian to his side.

  “Here.” He handed her a carrot. “Walk up to Polly’s head and hold this out to her.”

  Vivian glanced back at Malcolm—she was clearly still somewhat nervous—but she stepped forward and held out the carrot. Polly took it from her delicately and then bit down so hard, carrot pieces went flying. Vivian laughed that wonderful laugh yet again.

  “She certainly likes snacks, doesn’t she?” Vivian rubbed her hands together. “Something the two of us have in common.”

  All three of them laughed at that.

  “Ms. Forest, how would you like to take a little turn around the field on Polly?” Tim asked her.

  Vivian shook her head and sighed.

  “I was worried that’s where this was going.”

  Malcolm put his hand on her shoulder.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I promise, Polly will take good care of you. And I’ll ride with you, if you want.”

  Vivian pursed her lips at him.

  “I’m going to need a little more than that. I’ve spent fifty-four years getting up every morning and not getting on a horse that day. What exactly makes today the day to make a different decision than the one that’s served me well for life?”

  Malcolm laughed. Whether she ended up getting on the horse today or not, he was going to have fun trying to persuade her.

  “You take some convincing, don’t you? All right, how about this: just think of your daughter’s face when you get back to Sycamore Cottage today and tell her you rode a horse.”