CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: CHLOE

“You know, if you bomb out of this whole Vice-President of the company thing, you’d have a smashing future as a tour guide for this place,” I said, gazing around the entry hall of Buckley Manor, the ancestral seat of the Duke of Ruxleigh.

“I have no intention of bombing the ‘whole Vice-President of the company thing,’ as you so eloquently put it, but thank you all the same.” Theodore laughed, his gaze hovering on me. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a tour guide.”

“Why not? I’m impressed by how much knowledge of your family history you have.”

“It was beaten into me as a child.”

“I’d ask you if you’re being serious, but I can really imagine it.” I wrapped my arms around myself and peered at the portraits on the wall. “Thank you for showing me around here. I’m sure you had other things you’d rather be doing today.”

Theodore smiled. “I really didn’t. Besides, the tour isn’t over yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got a VIP tour guide.” His smile stretched into a full-fledged grin, and he laid his hand on my lower back, guiding me towards the library. “And you were personally invited here by the Duke of Ruxleigh, which means you can see places here that nobody else has seen.”

“Wait.” I turned, placing my hand on his chest to stop him in his tracks. “I’m pretty sure this is how women die in horror movies.”

“I swear on my life there’s nobody here who would dare kill you, horror movie or not.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist, his smile reflected in his grey-blue eyes as he peered down at me. “You’ve only seen the official tour of Buckley Manor. How about the unofficial one?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Never mind a horror movie. This is how innocent girls get lured into porn.”

Theodore stared at me for a moment before he burst out laughing, pulling my hand from his chest and releasing his grip on my wrist. “There’s no porn being filmed here. Not today, anyway.”

I froze. “What?”

Another deep laugh rumbled out of him. “I’m joking. We don’t hire out for porn. Movies and TV shows, yes, but not porn.”

I eyed him as he slid his hand from my back to my wrist and tugged me after him. “I’m not sure if I believe you or not.”

“What kind of porn would be filmed here?”

“I don’t know if I’m comfortable answering that.”

“Then don’t bring it up in the first place.”

He made an excellent point.

He was my boss.

Boss.

Superior.

The one in charge.

Why the hell was I talking about porn with him? Just because he’d decided we were friends last night didn’t mean I could be that unhinged around him.

What kind of porn would be filmed in an aristocratic country house like Buckley Manor, though? Regency porn? Was that a thing? Maybe a kinky recreation of the life of Henry the Eighth?

Ooh. No. Let’s not go there.

Regency porn was something I could get on board with, though.

If there was ever a smutty rendition of Pride and Prejudice with the right man playing Mr Darcy, I could absolutely see it being filmed here.

Theodore knocked a pattern against a large door, and it opened a few seconds later to reveal a man somewhere in his sixties. “Ben, is lunch ready?”

The man lowered his head. “Yes, it’ll be served in the Red Room when you’re ready.”

Red Room?

Hold on.

I’d heard this one before.

And this bastard told me they didn’t film pornos here…

“Good. This is Chloe St. James, my executive assistant. Chloe, this is Benedict Chalmers, the Buckley Manor butler.” Theodore motioned between us.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss St. James.” He turned to me and bowed his head in the same manner as he had to Theodore. “I’ve heard many wonderful things about you from His Grace and the rest of the family.”

Oh. Um.

This was strange.

“I’m sure they’ve vastly exaggerated my good points, Mr Chalmers,” I replied. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He stepped aside. “Please follow me. Would you like lunch immediately or should we bring it out after you’ve shown Miss St. James the rest of the manor?”

“We’ll eat first, Ben. Thank you,” Theodore said, putting his hand on my back again and pushing me through the door.

“Of course, my lord.”

My lord.

How the other half live, eh?

And this wasn’t just the other half. The ‘Other Half’ was the rich, but the aristocracy seemed to be somewhere above that.

More like the One Percent.

An elite, untouchable bubble of something more than money.

History.

Maybe I was a bit weird, but history was sexier than money.

And the man with his hand currently clasped around my wrist, dragging me through his very opulent, historical family manor house, had both of those things in abundance.

Hmm.

Why was I even thinking about that?

Was it because we were friends? Or because we’d been so close last night? I’d never pegged Stardew Valley as the one thing to truly break the wall between us, and I’d say weirder things had happened, but I wasn’t sure they had.

Ever.

Or would ever.

Seeing him pixel fishing was pretty wild.

The private living area of Buckley Manor was both vastly different and completely the same as the public space. It didn’t make any sense, but at the same time, it made it most sense.

The general look of the place was the same—old wooden floors creaked underfoot while high ceilings lent an air of drama with every step. Every door was the same large, ornate ones that had been present in the other area of the house, and the panelling on the walls of the seemingly endless hallways could have been copy-pasted from anywhere else in this massive old place.

The aura was different. Somehow, despite the same lofty ceilings and extravagant general décor, it was cosier. The walls were adorned with framed photo galleries of everything from staged family photos and graduations to casual moments with tongues being poked out and paint-covered toddlers. It was a stark contrast to the large paintings in the other part of the manor where the participants were dressed to the nines in their Sunday finest, adorned with jewels and chivalric orders of centuries past.

Not that it wasn’t still incredible to see, but there was a gentle warmth to the private living area that wasn’t present in the rest of the manor.

Although the renovations probably also had something to do with that.

“Is it hard to live here when it’s open to the public?” I asked after Ben had seated us at a grand table that could seat at least twenty people.

Thankfully, we were sitting opposite one another at one end.

“Hmm, somewhat,” Theodore said, resting his chin on his hand as he peered over at me. “For the most part, we try to avoid the whole family coming here during tourist season. We close from October first to April first every year, so we tend to all gather at Christmas and sometimes come during other times. Sometimes it’s unavoidable.”

“Like your grandmother’s birthday, right? I remember your grandfather coming here at the end of August every year before.”

“Yes. Her birthday is August twenty-eighth, and she likes to be here for it, so we close for the final week of the month so she can enjoy her birthday in peace.”

“That makes sense. I bet it’s pretty here in the summer,” I said, turning to look out of the window. “It’s so green and colourful already.”

“You should come one time.”

I glanced over at him. “What reason would I have to come here in the summer?”

“I’m sure Gramps or Dad would be happy to concoct one for you.” His lips tugged to one side.

I laughed, reaching for my glass of water. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll book a stay in one of those lake cottages this summer once I’ve gotten out from under the thumb of my needy, overbearing boss.”

He flinched, touching his hand to his heart. “It hurts.”

“You’re so melodramatic.”

“I told you; it breaks my heart to think you’re leaving me.”

“Please, you just don’t want to have to learn how to work with someone else.”

He paused, then slowly nodded his head, sitting back in his chair. “It’d be remiss of me to deny that, but honestly, I just can’t imagine working with anyone but you, Chloe. I don’t want to imagine working with anyone but you.”

Oh.

My heart fluttered a little more than it should at his words.

Living with him was making me soft.

What utter nonsense.

“You just want to keep me by your side because I do things like knot your tie and interrupt my dinner dates with my best friends to call you a car to take you home,” I replied, shooting him a firm look. “You know you won’t find anyone else like me.”

He sighed. “Yes, so why must you leave me?”

“Because you make me do things like knot your tie and interrupt my dinner dates with my best friends to call you a car to take you home.”

“What if I tell you I’ll never do it again?”

“I’ll grab a camera because there’s clearly a flying pig outside.”

“I see me telling you that we’re friends has really unleashed your sarcastic side.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I wouldn’t say it’s unleashed my sarcastic side. More that I’m just speaking my mind instead of holding my snarky comments in.”

“You mean your usual witty remarks have been you holding back? Fascinating.”

“There’s no need to be patronising. This is why I’m resigning.”

The door opened, and I turned in that direction. A young woman in a black dress with a white Peter Pan collar entered the room with a trolley that held two plates covered by those metal tea-cosy looking things.

Look.

I was no wordsmith.

Nor had I ever been served food that was covered with a metal tea cosy, so how the heck was I supposed to know what they were actually called?

The plates were set in front of us, and the young woman left us without a word after removing the tea cosies. Lunch was prawn linguine, and I had to fight my smile when I looked over the table at Theodore.

He knew that was my favourite lunch at work.

Somehow, I doubted it was something that was served on a regular basis here at Buckley Manor.

We ate in silence with only the sound of birds cheeping outside the window. When had being in silence with him become so comfortable? At what point had his presence just become normal to me?

I certainly couldn’t imagine sitting here in a place like this with anyone other than him. I’d been slightly uncomfortable when we’d done afternoon tea as part of Heidi and Harriet’s mum’s hen party slash bridal shower at a Georgian manor house just because of how fancy it was, but I felt no such discomfort here with Theodore.

Which made no sense.

This was his ancestral family home; the same place he would one day be the master of when he became the Duke of Ruxleigh. It was by far the fanciest, most elegant building I’d ever set foot in, and I’d been waited on hand and foot since the moment I’d stepped through the door, yet I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.

It was strange.

“Have you looked for another job yet?”

Theodore’s question jolted me out of my thoughts, and I peered across the table at him. His gaze was almost shadowed after his words, and nothing could hide the downturn of his lips that clearly showed his displeasure at the thought of me working for someone else.

“Not yet,” I replied, reaching for my water. “My notice won’t go in until we return to London in a month, and I’ll be working hard for you until then.”

He sighed, sitting back in and sinking his fingers into his hair. “And if you can’t find a job during the month you’ll be serving your notice?”

“Your grandfather told me he’d help me, which means he probably has a position in mind,” I pointed out. “Other than that, it’s fine. I have a place to stay in the event I have to leave the company residential building immediately, and I have enough savings that I could get by for six months even if I have to pay rent at market rate.”

Theodore pressed his lips together, almost as if he was displeased by my declaration. “Of course, you do.”

“You sound awfully upset by my financial safety cushion.”

“I was somewhat hoping you’d be desperately broke and would change your mind about resigning.”

I fought back a laugh, resting my chin on my hand. “Your honesty like this is refreshing. You should be more yourself in the office.”

“And what, let those stuffy bastards on the board exploit my kindness as a weakness?” he grumbled. “I’d rather not.”

“Fine, fine.” I waved a hand dismissively. “Stay as the cold, aloof Vice-President who has no cracks in his armour.”

He clutched his chest dramatically once more. “It’s just blow after blow from you, isn’t it?”

“I’m honest to a fault with my friends, and since you offered yourself that title, you’ll have to suck it up.” I shot him my best innocent smile. “Don’t worry; as soon as seven a.m. rolls around tomorrow, I’ll be the perfect secretary once more.”

Theodore tilted his head to the side, gazing at me with the tiniest of smiles teasing his lips. “You know what, Chloe? I’d rather you be yourself when we’re alone.”

I paused. “Really?”

“Mm. This version of you is much better than the cold, aloof secretary with no cracks in her armour.”

“Ooft, what a low blow.”

“There’s a reason everyone at the company thinks you’re the perfect secretary for me, and it’s because they see us both as aloof, cold-hearted people.”

“That’s how people see me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent,” I said, grinning. “That’s what I was shooting for.”

He shook his head. “Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, you say things like that.”

“There’s a reason for that. I don’t think you need to understand me.”

“That’s a shame. I really think I’d like to know everything about you. I can’t think of anything better than finding out what makes you tick.”

My stomach did a weird little flippy-flip thing at his words.

No. Not just at his words, but the way he said them. In his smooth-as-honey voice with his stupid smirky lips and his deadly deep gaze that, despite its cold colour, was surprisingly warm whenever it met mine.

“Do you really want to know what makes me tick?” I leant forwards, meeting his eyes. “It might surprise you.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

I stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to take those words back, but he didn’t. The sincerity in his gaze tickled at me with its genuine warmth, and I couldn’t help but let my mouth curve up at the corners.

“It’d be no fun if I told you,” I said after a moment of holding his gaze. “You’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

Theodore narrowed his eyes. “You might regret saying that.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see.”