“You know, because technically, that’s how you should address a duke.”
I stopped and pulled my hand from Ryder’s. “A duke? Your grandfather’s a duke?”
“I didn’t mention it?” he said as if it were no big deal, taking my hand and pulling me up the stairs with him.
“No, you didn’t.” I would have remembered that for sure. “I should have called him Your Grace?” I asked. “And now I look like the stupid American?”
“It’s no big deal. Grandfather doesn’t stand on ceremony.”
I wanted to punch him in the head. We were meant to be a team. Me being unprepared wasn’t good teamwork. “Ryder, it is a big deal to me—you have to tell me these things. I don’t want to offend or disrespect your family.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. We’re very relaxed around here. Technically, even I should call him Your Grace.”
Wonderful. If his grandson should have called him by this title, I was certain a total stranger should have.
“Seriously. Relax.”
We stopped outside a huge wooden door that looked like something out of a movie set for Robin Hood or Game of Thrones. It had a cast iron handle and hinges. “This is us.” Ryder opened the door and it let out a comical squeaking noise that sounded straight out of an episode of Scooby-Doo. He held it open, allowing me to go through into a large seating area with two couches and various cabinets and tables. Beyond an archway, there was a four-poster bed. “This is ridiculous,” I said.
“What is?” Ryder asked.
Tears gathered at the back of my throat. It was all too much. All so different from what I was used to, what I’d expected. “What are we thinking?” I wondered aloud. I really knew nothing about this man. When I’d married Marcus, I knew everything about him. That his hair turned almost blond every summer until he was nineteen. I knew that his dislike of carrots was equal to my hatred of beetroot. I knew he was seven before he could ride his bike without training wheels and his brother teased him mercilessly about it.
I hadn’t even known Ryder’s grandfather was a duke.
Ryder guided me to one of the couches, then turned and rummaged around in one of the cabinets.
“Here,” he said, holding out a glass in each hand. “Water in this glass. Gin and tonic in this one.”
“Alcohol? That’s your solution?” I asked. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
“British aristocracy are fond of their booze—you’ll hardly be judged for day-drinking—and you need to calm down.”
I grabbed the glass from his hand.
“You didn’t think to tell me you lived in a place like this, or that your grandfather is a duke. Isn’t that royalty, or something?” I asked.
“No, Fairfax isn’t a royal dukedom,” he said, as if I’d asked him if it was raining. Didn’t he get how ludicrous this was?
“Oh, well that’s okay then.” I folded my arms. “I’m not sure why I’m making a fuss.”
Ryder chuckled. “I like sarcastic Scarlett. But seriously, this isn’t that big of a deal, just a little different to what you’re used to. I grew up in it, so I just don’t notice anymore.”
Ryder might be relaxed. But I wasn’t. I didn’t feel prepared at all. And there was one way to fix that. “We have work to do. I need some paper and pens and you have to take me through what I should be calling everyone.” He paused before he nodded. “I don’t want to look like some crazy American who doesn’t understand the world I’m in.”
“Being American is the perfect excuse—people will forgive you anything.” He took a seat opposite me. “You shouldn’t care what people think. My grandfather and my sister don’t care about that stuff and they’re the only people who matter.”
It was a nice thing for him to say but it wasn’t enough. “Thank you. I would just feel better if I knew what was expected. I don’t want to embarrass you or your family, Ryder. And I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You would never . . .” He stopped before he finished his sentence. “I’m sorry about dinner. I know you weren’t expecting Frederick on our first night home, but as my grandfather said, it was going to have to happen eventually.”
“I’m so glad you’re optimistic.” I drained my glass and set it down. “One of us should be.”
“Hand me that.” I nodded at the pad on the small table at Ryder’s elbow. “You have to brief me. We only have a few hours.”
“Whatever you need,” he said, completely unfazed by my meltdown or demands.
Ryder’s grandfather sounded forgiving, and maybe if we went through things now I could absorb all the information I needed before dinner.
“So, just to be clear, your grandfather, the duke, knows that we’re—”
“Yes, he and Darcy know everything. I’ve never lied to either of them.” His expression was serious and businesslike. “My grandfather has always seen me as the rightful heir. It’s not that he doesn’t like Frederick—just that he was never meant to inherit.”
“Okay, and I call him Your Grace?”
Ryder grimaced. “Technically. But, that’s not what—”
“How would Aurora address him?” Ryder’s childhood friend wasn’t a member of the family but knew them well. Perhaps I could follow her lead.
“She would probably just call him sir,” he replied.
“Okay, well I’ll try to avoid saying anything but I’ll call him sir if the occasion arises. How does that sound?”
He held my gaze for a second and then nodded. “You have totally got this.”
His confidence in me felt good and my anxiety levels dropped from boiling over to a simmer.
“I’ll have to decide what to wear. Will you wear a suit?” I imagined Ryder was hardly going to eat in jeans. I’d never seen him out of a suit.
“My tux,” he said.
Of course, because why wouldn’t you wear your tux for a casual dinner with family. “Your tux? You’re kidding?”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it.”
Easy for him to say.
I had brought cocktail dresses. One of them would have to do. One of the good things about flying private was that it allowed for more luggage.
“Are you okay with sharing a room?” he asked. “I do think it looks better. My family knows I’m not a saint.”
I took a deep breath. Everything had happened so quickly since we’d struck our deal that only now was I realizing it was so much more complicated than I’d ever thought. I hadn’t considered sharing beds, bathrooms. Holding hands in front of strangers. Violet had said it was an adventure, but I hadn’t prepared myself properly. I felt as if I were standing at the edge of quicksand and only just realized I’d promised to jump right in.
“I suppose since we’re about to married, and moving in together anyway . . .” I replied, the reality of the words feeling heavier now than they had when they were discussed in the abstract over the last few weeks.
I had been so reluctant to become single again after my first marriage, but now I was about to be married again, singledom didn’t seem quite so bad after all.