Beau laughs.
‘Hilarious,’ he says. ‘You’re very funny, Lana. I love the sarcastic little curtsy – did Tig put you up to that?’
To the curtsy? She did. Oh my God, I feel like she set me up with that one.
‘Surely we know each other well enough to drop the lord,’ he adds with a smile. ‘Don’t make fun of me, I know I’m awfully old-fashioned and stuffy.’
Okay, he thinks I’m being cute. He thinks I’m teasing him for being an earl and he seems into it. Amazingly my faux pas has worked in my favour.
‘Sorry, m’lord,’ I say, actually teasing him now that I know he enjoys it. ‘I don’t think you’re stuffy at all, it’s a cool job.’
He smiles.
‘Most people don’t think it’s a job,’ he says. ‘They think I’m some sort of playboy when, really, they don’t stop to consider that I live alone in an enormous house, that has tens of thousands of visitors a year – generously, a third of it is still private, but the rest of it is usually teeming with tourists.’
‘That must be so strange,’ I reply. ‘Opening your house to strangers.’
‘Thankfully you don’t get many hooligans driving out to visit stately homes,’ he replies. ‘I don’t really notice – sometimes I’ll look out of the window and see people and for a moment it’s like I can’t remember why they’re there.’
I laugh.
‘It must be strange, living in such a big house, all on your own,’ I say – and, yes, I am still doing my best to talk without a hint of an accent.
‘It’s strange,’ he replies. ‘I’ve always lived there, so it’s just home, but I would be lying if I said it never felt a little spooky. The long, dark corridors can feel especially terrifying of an eve. Of course, it’s never truly lonely there. With various staff, cleaners and the nightwatchman about the place seven days a week.’
‘I thought Daddy’s house was big,’ I reply – internally cringing at my use of Daddy, again. ‘But you must need a map to get around.’
‘I found a new room – a few years back, but even so, it was very bizarre,’ he replies. ‘It’s a strange place to live alone but I know that I have to do my turn, looking after the manor. It’s not real hardship, it’s a beautiful place… I just need someone to share it with me.’
I honestly cannot tell if everything he just said sounds amazing or awful. He makes it seem like a mixture of both, which probably makes me like him a little bit more.
‘It is of course the best place to host parties – I’m very popular in the summer,’ he says with a smile. ‘I hire a chef, a DJ – and I have enough bedrooms for everyone to stay over. I believe I was second choice for Chet and Seph’s wedding.’
‘I mean, Chester’s parents’ house is very lovely,’ I reply. ‘You don’t see many stately homes on the beach.’
‘Anything old enough would have most likely washed away by now,’ he says. ‘A word of advice – though I’m sure you know. Don’t mention global warming to that lot – flat-earthers, the bunch of them. If their holidays get a little warmer and the ski slopes a little cooler then they welcome it.’
‘An earl with a conscience,’ I say, impressed.
‘Needless to say, I’m very good about turning lights off when I leave a room at home.’
I laugh.
He’s a funny earl too. It’s hard to believe he’s single, so I suspect it’s by choice but, I don’t know, I do get kind of a lonely vibe from him.
As we walk and talk, hanging back a few paces from the others, it’s just nice. The conversation is easy, about everything and nothing, although I would be lying if I said I wasn’t keeping an occasional eye on Ethan and Tiggy.
‘Here we are,’ Seph – who is leading the crowd – announces.
Oh, wow, we’ve finally reached the waterfall and it’s beautiful. The kind of crystal-clear, sparkling water that looks so inviting – the intrusive thoughts are telling me I would feel so nice and cool if I were to jump straight in.
‘A truly wonderful place for a picnic, darling,’ Bea says, patting her on the head. ‘An excellent find.’
‘Thank you,’ Seph says, super pleased with herself.
‘Well, all this walking has made me positively famished,’ Chester says. ‘Let’s get the grub out.’
Everyone exchanges glances, all eyes darting around to see who has the food.
