Page 17 of The Grump I Married
“Ready?” I asked her.
She nodded and followed me to the doors, where a security guard let us inside. As far as courthouse weddings went, it was a quick and painless affair—over and done with in about fifteen minutes. The staff were attentive and friendly, clapping politely for us as I slid the ring I’d overnighted from the main Veritique store in NYC onto Lena’s finger.
For an awkward moment, I wondered if I’d ordered the wrong size—I’d just opted for the most common size sold by the jeweler. I’d spent the last seven years working with Lena, but I’d never given much thought to her fingers. Looking at them now, I noted that they were thin and delicate, her nails perfectlymanicured with frosted white tips. Despite my concern, the ring slid perfectly into place.
Lena stared at the glittery stone, assessing. Then her gaze flicked up, meeting mine, and the corner of her mouth turned up. Fake or not, she approved of the ring. And then it was done.
Marriage certificate in hand, we headed straight for Houston Executive Airport to catch the jet.
“How long is the flight?” Lena asked.
“Should be about nine hours.” I was hoping to be in Scotland by dinner, local time.
She nodded. “I’m sending you a briefing packet I need you to read before the meeting with the Tokyo execs. And yes, before you ask, I’ve already highlighted all the key bits.”
“You can’t be serious, woman.” Her eyes flicked in my direction. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
She snorted. “Well, it’s either that or Arnie’s Bolivian alpaca farm pitch. Take your pick.”
“Lena,” I whispered, nudging her awake hours later. Milo shifted his head off her lap. He always sat with her when we flew.
Her long eyelashes fluttered. “What, is something going on in Houston?” She blinked sleepily, reaching for her phone. “Is it Narissa again?”
I gritted my teeth at the very mention of her name. She probablywasup to no good. The damn woman had been relentless in herposting. But I couldn’t say for certain one way or the other. PR had told me to keep off of social media for now, and it was an order I was more than happy to obey. If I wanted to swim with sharks, I’d visit the fucking Bahamas.
“No, we’re over the Highlands,” I said, pointing out the window. Sweeping green hills patchworked with the occasional band of purple heather rolled beneath us for miles. “We’ll be coming up on the estate soon. Just there.”
Lena narrowed her eyes, pressing her forehead to the window. “Weston!” she snapped, whipping her head around, her expression displeased. “When you talked about Lochbrae, you always referred to a house.”
“Yes?”
“Ahouse.”
“Right.” I wasn’t following.
“This is a…” She gestured helplessly at the window, her jaw hanging open. “Lochbrae has a friggin’castle!”
“Did I not mention that part?”
“Um, no,Lord Kincaid, I think I would have remembered,” she muttered.
“Well, it’s only a little one.” It was the land that came with Lochbrae that was truly valuable. Hundreds of years back, the land had been the source of agricultural jobs for the whole county. It had been Grandad’s hope that the construction of the wind farm would bring back the prosperity the region had known back then. He’d loved this place and the people more than anything, and it felt like it was now my responsibility to take care of them.
“Your idea of ‘little’ and mine are very different,” Lena said as we circled the estate, heading for the private landing strip. “This place is massive.”
“Does size really matter?”
“That’s not what a wife wants to hear on her honeymoon,” she quipped, though I noted the way her cheeks flushed.
Once we’d landed, a driver came around to collect us and our bags, taking us down the winding gravel road to the front of the main house.
“Grandad favored the traditional style,” I explained. “Most of the work he did on the property went into preserving that.”
Lena swore under her breath. “It’s literally like something out of a fairy tale.”
Sure, maybe what she saw was weathered stone walls rising into the sky and ivy-coated towers. But all I saw as I stepped out of the car washome. No, it wasn’t the house I’d grown up in with my parents, but it was the only place that had ever truly felt like home to me.
The massive oak front door flew open, and a wrinkled face glared back at me. Agnes, the estate’s housekeeper, dropped her hands to her hips. “Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.”
