Royal Holiday

by Guillory, Jasmine

  And he probably wasn’t an ax murderer. Wouldn’t she have read something about an epidemic of women in England being murdered via ax if that was the case? He did work for the Queen, after all—not that people who worked for royalty were automatically model citizens; historically, it seemed like it was very much the opposite. But she didn’t really think people with those jobs got carte blanche to go around committing crimes.

  She got out of bed, plucked a notebook out of her purse, and got back in bed. She needed a pro/con list, that’s what she needed.

  She spent ten minutes scrawling down everything she could think of on both sides of the list.

  PROS

  CONS

  I have so much fun with him

  So much to do at home

  New job will mean a lot more work; last chance to do something like this for a while!

  Maddie will freak out

  Probably not a murderer

  But he could be a murderer!

  Sex! (hopefully)

  Sex??? I barely know him!

  She tried to come up with a fifth bullet point on either side to break the tie, but everything she thought of seemed very clearly like a secondary point to one of the eight bullet points she already had.

  She shook her head and got out of bed. She needed to sit on this for a while. She should take a shower, go downstairs and drink some of Julia’s delicious tea and eat some of those glorious scones she’d been stuffing herself with for days, and put this whole decision out of her mind for now.

  She hadn’t dated anyone in a few years, which was probably why a few kisses had gotten her so giddy about a ridiculous idea like staying with Malcolm in England after Maddie left.

  Fine, that last point in the pro list was a significant one.

  Maddie was busy doing final fittings with the Duchess for the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day outfits, and Julia was occupied in the kitchen, prepping for the holiday meals, so Vivian spent most of the day curled up on her favorite chair in the sitting room, reading and drinking tea and eating whatever snacks James periodically set in front of her. She hadn’t had a day where she had literally nothing to do but relax in a long time, and instead of being able to take advantage of it, she kept thinking about Malcolm Hudson.

  She’d sort of expected to get a note from him that day, but one didn’t come. Maybe he’d changed his mind, too. Maybe he’d realized spontaneity wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and thought of all the work he had to do, and remembered he barely knew her.

  Yes, that was it. He’d decided she shouldn’t stay, either. Maybe they could just both pretend he’d never said anything about it the day before, so they wouldn’t have to talk about it, and they’d just never speak of it tonight, then never see each other again.

  Okay, well, that last part was depressing. Plus, avoiding a conversation like that wasn’t really her style. She had to tell him something.

  “What do you think, Mom? Isn’t she stunning?”

  Vivian looked up at Maddie’s voice and saw the Duchess standing there in front of her in the emerald-green sequined dress. Vivian rose from her chair.

  “Wow. Oh wow.” Vivian walked around the Duchess to see her from all sides. Her hair was up in a loose, off-center bun, with long tendrils around her face, she had huge diamond studs in her ears, and she was wearing a diamond bracelet that probably cost twice as much money as Vivian’s car.

  Maybe her house.

  “You look incredible,” Vivian said.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” The Duke came into the room in his tux and smiled first at his wife, then at Maddie and Vivian. “Thank you both, for making my wife so happy.”

  The Duchess kissed him on the cheek.

  “At first I wasn’t sure about this color, but—”

  “It’s perfect,” both Vivian and the Duke said in unison. They grinned at each other.

  “Who am I to argue with these two?” the Duchess said to Maddie.

  James pulled the car up to the house, and after another flurry of good-byes, they got in to drive the few minutes over to Sandringham House.

  “That’s our cue to get ourselves ready for dinner,” Vivian said.

  Maddie nudged her on their way up the stairs.

  “Speaking of dinner, a little birdie told me that Malcolm Hudson is coming for dinner, too. How did that happen?”

  Oops. In the aftermath of Malcolm’s invitation, she’d forgotten to find a way to mention to Maddie that he was coming tonight.

  “Oh, I think Julia wanted to—”

  Maddie rolled her eyes.

  “Mom, stop. You wanted to spend a little more time with the very attractive and accomplished man who introduced you to the Queen. You don’t need to make up a story about this on my account.”

  Now might be a good opportunity to tell Maddie that she was thinking about spending even more time with the very attractive and accomplished man who introduced her to the Queen.

  No, she’d decided that wasn’t going to happen, hadn’t she?

  “Plus”—Maddie grinned at her—“I heard him talking the other day when he dropped you back off here—my goodness, that accent. If I wasn’t already taken, I’d swoon for it a little bit, too.”

  He really did have an incredible voice. It wasn’t just the accent, though that was great, too. It was something about the timbre of his voice: low, but not too deep; warm and soothing, like drinking a cup of hot chocolate with a shot of whiskey.

  Should his voice be a pro on her list?

  No, no, be real with yourself, Vivian.

  She needed to change the subject before Maddie kept talking about Malcolm.

  “How did everything go with the Duchess? She looked great, but I know these past few days have been busier than you expected.”

  Maddie shook her head.

  “I can’t believe we had that dress done on time and got her out the door. This was one of the most intense styling jobs I’ve ever had, and while it’s been a great experience, I’m looking forward to lunchtime tomorrow, when I’m all done with work and we can relax together. I’m jumping in the shower now. See you at cocktail hour!”

  Vivian slowly followed Maddie up the stairs. She would have to tell Malcolm her decision tonight; she knew that. The problem was, she still had no idea what her decision would be.

  Malcolm arrived at Sycamore Cottage at eight p.m. on the dot, two bottles of champagne in hand. He’d checked in with Julia, who had told him he didn’t need to bring anything, but his mother had raised him to always bring something when he went to someone’s house for dinner, and he had no intention of looking like a mannerless boor in front of Vivian.

  “Happy Christmas, James,” he said when James opened the front door.

  “Happy Christmas, sir,” James said. “Pleased you’ll be joining us for dinner.”

  James had a very bland look on his face, which meant he must be aware of exactly why Malcolm was at dinner tonight. Had he seen them kissing the day before?

  What was he thinking? Of course James knew exactly why Malcolm was at dinner tonight, whether or not he’d seen them kissing. James had been the one to deliver all of those notes to Vivian. People don’t send notes back and forth to each other all day if they haven’t at least thought about kissing each other.

  “I’ve brought this champagne for all of us to enjoy; should I give it to you, or bring it back to Julia?”

  James took the bottles out of his hands.

  “I’ll ask Julia when she would like it to be served. Please, come in.”

  James escorted him into the sitting room, which looked very different than the last time he’d been there, just a few days before. The lights were low, candles were lit everywhere, the white twinkle lights on the Christmas tree were glowing, and the fire was burning. A few other members of the Sycamore Cottage staff were already inside, including Julia. But Vivian wasn’t there yet. Nor was her daughter, who he was eager to finally meet.

  “Malcolm! So pleased you’re joinin
g us tonight,” Julia said. She glanced over at James. “Oh, do we have you to thank for this champagne? James, would you put it in one of the ice buckets in the dining room, please? We’ll have it with our first course.”

  Julia handed Malcolm a cocktail.

  “I’m delighted I had this dinner to have fun with; I have the chance to make the dishes I always want to make for my family Christmas dinner, but am never allowed to—my family never wants to fuss with tradition. Here’s the cocktail I made for all of us to start the night with.”

  Malcolm took a sip, and his eyes widened.

  “Goodness, Julia. I feel sorry for your family that they don’t have the chance to experience this drink.”

  She grinned at him.

  “I hope that will be your feeling throughout this entire meal.”

  He was just about to take another sip when something occurred to him.

  “Did my late addition to the party make trouble for you? If so, I apologize.”

  She glanced over his shoulder.

  “Absolutely not. You don’t think Vivian is the kind of person who wouldn’t check in with me about that before she invited you, do you?”

  He laughed.

  “No, we’ve both known her only a few days, and we know that she isn’t. But then, I’ve known you for years, and I know you’re the kind of person who would always say yes to that type of request, even if it threw your entire plan into chaos.”

  She grinned at him.

  “You know me too well, Malcolm. But I promise, that wasn’t the case.” She turned slightly and smiled at someone behind him. “I think you’re going to want to see this.”

  Malcolm spun around and saw Vivian walk into the room. She had on a dark red dress, her hair was down, and her smile was dazzling. He hoped it was for him.

  “You look incredible,” he said in a low voice when she came over to him and Julia.

  She looked away and smiled.

  “Thank you. Merry Christmas.” She smiled at Julia. “Merry Christmas, Julia. The sitting room has been transformed in just the past hour. Who can I thank for this?”

  Julia nodded at the corner.

  “That would be James. He’s excellent at decorating.” She handed Vivian a cocktail. “I love your dress.”

  Vivian looked down at herself and smiled.

  “Thank you. It’s all Maddie, of course. Thank goodness for my daughter.”

  Malcolm touched her elbow. This was the first time he’d ever seen her not covered from head to toe against the weather. It was nice to reach out and touch her arm and feel her smooth skin, and not just her wool sweater.

  “Your daughter is clearly a very talented woman,” Malcolm said, “but she’s lucky she has you to do her talents justice.”

  Malcolm heard a voice next to him.

  “I’m lucky I have my mother for many reasons, but yes, that’s one of them.”

  Malcolm turned and smiled. Maddie looked a lot like her mother.

  “Maddie, this is Malcolm Hudson, the queen’s private secretary.” Vivian’s cheeks were pink, either from the fire or from their compliments. “Malcolm, this is my daughter, Madeleine Forest.”

  Malcolm and Maddie shook hands and smiled at each other.

  “Malcolm, thanks for entertaining my mother for the past few days while I’ve been so busy here,” Maddie said.

  She had no idea how much he’d enjoyed himself with Vivian, did she?

  “The pleasure was all mine. And—”

  Julia handed Maddie one of her special cocktails.

  “For you, to celebrate a job well done,” Julia said to Maddie. “We have a lot of good drinks in store for us tonight: we’ll have champagne for our next course—some of it courtesy of Malcolm here—and some great wine with dinner, a gift from the Duke and Duchess to all of us.”

  Maddie took a sip of her cocktail.

  “Ooh, what is in this? And don’t tell me it’s a secret recipe. My boyfriend is a huge cocktail fan, and he would love this—I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

  As Maddie teased the cocktail recipe out of Julia, Malcolm stood just as close to Vivian as he dared, and wished they were alone in this room. Or any room, really. He wanted to be able to kiss her without people around them, he wanted to be able to tell her the plans he’d made for their tiny holiday, he wanted to know for sure her smile was just for him.

  “All right, I’ll show you the bottle, but you have to swear you’re just going to tell your boyfriend and not a single person in the United Kingdom,” Julia said to Maddie.

  Maddie held up her hand.

  “I swear! And if it’s a brand we don’t have in the U.S., it would be a perfect gift to bring back to him from this trip.”

  Maddie and Julia walked off, presumably to go inspect the alcohol, and he and Vivian were left alone.

  They weren’t completely alone—James and a few other Sycamore Cottage staff and friends of staff were still milling about the sitting room, drinking Julia’s special cocktail and eating the cheese straws she had in vases on the tables. But this was likely as close as they’d get, at least until the twenty-eighth.

  “I’m so pleased you invited me to dinner,” he said. “I wouldn’t have missed you in that dress for the world.”

  She smoothed the dress at her hips. That quick, nervous motion made him smile.

  “I’m glad you came,” she said. “I have no idea what Julia has in store for us, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m certain of that. But speaking of, I wanted to know if you had any restaurant reservation preferences for our time in London? I don’t really know what kinds of food you like and don’t like, other than sandwiches and scones and shepherd’s pie.” He grinned at her, but her smile faltered. Was she a picky eater and was scared to tell him? No matter, they could figure that out. “Oh, speaking of.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Here’s your updated itinerary.”

  She didn’t reach for the paper.

  “My updated itinerary?”

  He moved closer to her so he could show it to her.

  “I contacted the Duchess’s private secretary, and she gave me all of the necessary information to change your flight. You’ll now be on the same flight back you would have taken on the twenty-eighth; you’re just leaving on the first instead.” She didn’t say anything, so he kept talking. “I also extended your hotel reservation; while you’re welcome to stay with me in my flat, I, um, didn’t want to assume.”

  He absolutely had wanted to assume, and he very much hoped she would tell him there was no need for the hotel reservation when he had a perfectly fine flat in London they could stay in. But he wanted to at least give her the option.

  She wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Why would you make my travel arrangements without talking to me about it first?”

  He didn’t understand.

  “We talked about it yesterday,” he said. “I said we’d have a great time, and you said it did sound lovely, and . . .”

  Ah. There was no “and.” That was the problem. She hadn’t, actually, at any point, said yes, had she?

  “That didn’t mean I’d decided to stay.” Her mouth was a tight line. “Did you think about consulting me, before you made these arrangements?”

  He took a step back.

  “Does that mean you’ve decided not to stay in London?” She could have at least let him know in advance, before he’d shown up here to be rejected.

  “What’s this about you staying in London?” Maddie was suddenly at her mother’s side again. Excellent, an audience. Just what he needed. At this point, he wanted to turn around and leave Sycamore Cottage and never come back.

  Vivian cleared her throat.

  “Oh, Malcolm suggested—since this is my first trip to England, and just to see more of London, and all—that I should stay on after you leave, but I don’t think . . .”

  Maddie looked from Vivian to him and back to
Vivian with a big smile on her face.

  “What a great idea! I was already feeling bad that you were only going to get such a short time in London; this is the best plan.”

  Maybe Maddie had been just what he’d needed?

  Vivian put her hand on Maddie’s arm.

  “Oh, but Maddie, I need to consider . . .”

  Maddie cut her off.

  “You don’t need to consider anything. I’m sure you’ve already made a great pro/con list on this, and if it was dramatically imbalanced, you wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. You spend all your time working or helping Aunt Jo as it is, and you’re about to start your fancy new job. You keep saying this is your last vacation for a while. You need a treat. Don’t you always tell me life is too short?” She looked at Malcolm. “She’s staying. Take good care of her.”

  Vivian sputtered.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. He doesn’t have to take care of me.”

  Maddie locked eyes with Malcolm and shook her head.

  “See what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

  Just then, a gong sounded, and they all turned toward the front of the room.

  “Dinner is served, everyone,” James announced. “Please come into the dining room.”

  Malcolm offered Vivian his arm. She glanced up at him for a second and then slid her arm through his. They didn’t talk as they walked into the dining room, along with the rest of the Sycamore Cottage staff and friends of staff.

  They sat down at the table, and Julia poured champagne in their glasses.

  “Happy Christmas Eve, all!” she said. Everyone raised their glasses, and he turned to Vivian to touch her glass with his. She looked at him with a resigned expression on her face and then sipped her champagne.