Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
I glared at her. “Why are you so thrilled?”
“Ah, simple.” Isa raised her finger, her eyes glittering. “I’ve heard he’s extremely handsome, and I am a big fan of handsome men.”
I was aware. My best friend was basically the village encyclopaedia on handsome men. There wasn’t a thing she didn’t know about every attractive man within a fifteen-mile radius of Hanbury.
She’d probably dated a good chunk of them at least once.
You know what? Good for her.
“Isadora.” I grabbed her arm. “What do you know about him?”
“Nothing you can use to blackmail him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I paused. Shoot, she’s got me. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
“Your pause gave you away. That and you’re a terrible liar,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Hmm. How much is it worth?”
“You’ll walk out of here with both legs intact. How does that sound?”
“Like we’re in an abusive relationship.”
“Then how about you don’t have to bail me out of jail for an entire month?”
Isa narrowed her eyes. “Are you intending to do anything that’ll result in you being locked up for a timeout again?”
I held up my hands. “I never intend to do anything that’ll make Shaun haul me in for a timeout. It just happens accidentally.”
“You know, Isa,” Susan said, tapping her fingers against the fence. “Given that she was in timeout twice in one week last summer, that’s a good deal. She’s just entering her season of trouble. Anything could happen. It’s why she’s not allowed to light fires here anymore.”
Look. Almost setting my shed on fire happened one time, and it wasn’t even that close a call.
“You should listen to Susan,” I said. “She’s a wise woman.”
“Does that mean I don’t have to do the calendar?” Susan asked.
“I thought you wanted to stick it to George and show him your nice ripe melons?”
“I don’t want to show George anything except the sight of a melon as I hurl it at him.”
Please. The poor dear would put her back out doing that. I’d seen her handle a beach ball, and that was chaotic enough.
“This place is unhinged,” Isa said, cracking her knuckles. “Susan, just tell George you want to play with his cucumber and be done with it.”
Susan gasped. “Don’t be crude!”
That was a bit rich coming from the woman who’d enquired after the state of her veterinarian’s penis ten minutes ago.
“And, Rose, my darling,” Isa continued, turning to me. “I don’t believe for a moment you’ll last an entire month without causing chaos this summer, but I suppose I am the one who must listen to your drunken whining about the duke. Giving you information benefits me in the long run, so I will graciously share the information I possess. I’m warning you, though, I don’t know much.”
“I love you. You’re so pretty and smart and have such a kind heart,” I said, clutching her hand tightly.
“Obviously, but get your tongue out of my arse, you suck up.” She snatched her hand away and started ticking things off on her fingers. “Oliver de Havilland, thirty-one years old, born here in Hanbury. He moved to London with his parents when he was six when his father took over the family business, and they stopped returning here for the summer when he was ten. He became the CEO of the Havilland Group when he was twenty-eight after the death of his dad and became the duke when the old geezer kicked the bucket six months ago.”
CEO at twenty-eight.
How very romance novel of him.
Must be nice to be born rich.
“I could have Googled him for all that,” I said.
“He’s currently single, but he does have one ex-fiancée from a seemingly arranged marriage. However, they broke up when he was nineteen and she was eighteen, so I’m not sure it was an actual relationship.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is any arranged relationship a real one?”
“Probably not at first, but I wouldn’t know. I’m never going to be in one, am I?” Isa shrugged. “Anyway, from what I know, he’s about what you’d expect from someone in his position. He’s a bit uptight and stubborn, but it sounds like he’s a pretty good guy all around.”
“Really?” I wrinkled up my nose. “That’s not what his grandfather ever said to me.”
“Oh? I would be thrilled to hear what kind of tall tales my grandfather was telling about me.”
I froze.
I didn’t need to be a genius to know who’d just stumbled into our conversation. In fact, I didn’t even need to turn around to know that the subject of our discussion was now present for it.
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
Not because he’d heard, but because that was how I always felt in the presence of the aristocracy.
I was sure I was mildly allergic to the upper class.
Did I have any Benadryl in the shed?