Just Like Her

Chapter 56

Tom

Emma's breath hitched as she stepped from the car. "You didn't say—"

"I said it was at Gran's," I reminded her as I took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

She squeezed my hand back. Hard.

"Yes, but you didn't say it was at a castle," she gritted out at her eyes scanned the grid of windows looming down at us.

"It's her home!"

"It's bloody Windsor Castle!" she practically yelped.

Even from the private entrance, I had to admit there was no ignoring the castle's enormity.

I pivoted on my heel to face her and began to stroke the hand adorned with her ring.

"It's just a casual dinner," I lied.

Emma shot me a look dead in the eye calling my bluff.

I sighed. "Alright fine, maybe not on the same level as our dinners in Kerry with your mum but—"

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this Tom," Emma cut me off in a hushed whisper as her eyes drifted wearily back to the windows. "The castles, the... the people always watching what we do."

I cleared my throat and then nodded down at my shoes. "Would, uh, would you like the car to take you back to the flat?"

Emma's eyes flashed to mine, wide in shock. "No! Tom of course not!"

She scooped up my other hand and squeezed both of them until her knuckles shown white in the quickly fading dusk. "No," she repeated emphatically.

I couldn't help but sigh in relief as I bowed slightly forward, my forehead just resting on hers.

"All I meant," she started again, returning to a hoarse whisper. "Was that even with time, I don't think I'll ever acclimate. That, I'll need you to be patient with me."

Her breath tickled my nose as a laugh caught in the back of her throat.

"I'm glad to be in your world, Tom, really I am. But it's not the one most of us grew up in."

I laughed, too. "Suppose not."

"For me, dinner at gran's meant fish and chips at the local pub."

I leaned back, aghast. I had seen pictures of Emma's grandmother and from the woman's delicate frame and impeccable dress, I had a hard time ever imagining that woman stepping foot in a pub—let alone bringing her granddaughter along.

"That's my mum's mum," she giggled as if reading my mind. "My da's mum was always in the pub—she owned the place after all."

I tucked Emma's hand in the crook of my elbow and turned us both to face the daunting castle.

"Well there will be plenty of booze inside as well," I said nodding at the gargantuan structure.

Emma hummed. "Guinness from the tap?"

I laughed again. "'Fraid not. More likely cognac or wine from a decanter."

Emma tisked mockingly in response. "Granny would be scandalized."

"Are you ready?" I murmured as I tucked an errant curl behind Emma's ear.

She had styled it herself and left it down, with just one side pinned back and the rest cascading down in silky curls. I had been doubtful when Emma had announced she'd gone shopping with Cynthia, but the dress was perfect: emerald green, elegantly draping and emphasizing her curves in a way that still made my mouth run dry yet would surely meet the conservative approval of my grandmother.