Page 156 of Joker in the Pack

“Which opera is it?”

“Does it matter? I never understand them anyway.” He passed me the envelope with the tickets from his door pocket. “It’ll probably say on there.”

I unpeeled the flap, and my heart sank as I pulled out the single ticket inside. Just when I thought we’d covered everything, another hiccup revealed itself.

“Nye, they’ve sent us the wrong one. Do you think they’ll still let us in?”

“What do you mean, the wrong one? It’s not for the opera?”

“Oh, it’s forTristan und Isoldeall right, but it’s not ours.”

“Then whose is it?”

“The Viscount Northbury, plus one.”

Nye went white and skidded to a halt on the hard shoulder, breathing hard.

“What’s wrong? Nye, what is it? Should I call an ambulance?”

“I’m going to kill my mother. I swear, I’m going to kill her.”

“It’s just a wrong ticket. Isn’t that a bit drastic?”

He grabbed both of my hands in his and shifted so he was facing me. “Babe, I wanted to tell you, really I did. I just didn’t know how. And when you said you hated the idea of dating a posh bloke again…”

“What are you talking about? You’re scaring me.”

“Shit.” He took a deep breath. “It’s not the wrong ticket. I’m Viscount Northbury. I’ve told Mother over and over not to use that bloody title.”

“I don’t understand.”

He gave me a nervous smile. “My full name is Aneurin Kendrick Holmes. My father’s the Earl of Northbury, and as his eldest son, I get to use his secondary title, which is Viscount. I never wanted it, honestly. People treat me differently if they think I’m nobility, and I’m just Nye.”

All the little bits of the puzzle fell into place—Nye’s automatic manners, his expensive home, and his reaction when I’d told him I didn’t want to date a man with a title again.

I squeezed his hands back. “You dope. I might have said I wanted a plain old Mr., but what I meant was that I want you. I’ll love you whatever bits you stick in front of your name.”

“You love me?”

“How could I not?”

He collapsed forward and threw his arms around me. Looked as if it was his turn to do drama today.

“I love you, Olivia. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t, I promise. Is there anything else I should know?”

I was joking, but he took me seriously.

“Someday I’ll be expected to move back home and manage the family estate. My father’s still sprightly at the moment, but that time will come.”

“Then we’ll do it together.”

“Thank fuck for that. I’ve been stewing over it for weeks. I know how much you hated living in a small village.”

“My home is wherever you are. Is that really it now?”

“Not quite. On my twenty-eighth birthday next month, I’ll get access to the rest of my trust fund. How do you fancy a bloody nice holiday?”

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