Page 81 of The Royal Governess
“No, you are the queen. Just ask my father.” Gregorio spoke up and Christina’s blush deepened.
“Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said to Lexi.
She bounced up and gave me a quick kiss. “See you at dinner, Aunt Reena.”
Tossing her towel aside, Christina settled back in her chair. “Now tell me about Judd. You two had been engaged forever. What happened? I thought you might have a Christmas wedding.”
That realization still hurt. Had I wasted three years? “Maybe that was the problem. We took each other for granted. At the end, I’m not sure the passion was there. Hate to admit it, but that’s how it felt.” My voice broke and Christina leaned over to squeeze my hand.
“Well, you’ve got to have that.” She sat back. I loved the way Christina’s eyes found Marco as he made his way through the crowd. “I think Judd was too quiet for you, Reena. But England. How did you end up there?”
An empty hole opened up inside. “I couldn’t stay in Pittsburgh. Not after Judd and I broke it off. Cripes, everyone felt sorry for me. Mary Carmichael was already planning a shower for me. I felt terrible, giving her the news.”
“That must have been miserable.” Christina threw me a commiserating glance.
“I hated the pity.” My temper flared, just thinking about it. “Anyway, over in England my Aunt Penelope fell and broke her hip. Because of my dad’s stroke in the spring, my mother couldn’t go over and help. I volunteered.”
Reaching over, Christina squeezed my arm. “That’s so you, Reena. Always so generous.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is that pity I hear in your voice?”
Christina giggled. “No. That is pure admiration.”
“Turned out not to be so bad. Sussex is beautiful.” I’d leave it there.
“Sussex. How wonderful! We can see each other more often. So you decided to stay a little longer?”
“Your good luck made me willing to take more chances. The man who took your position at school has a wife who also teaches English. They’re new in town, so this was perfect. Why not explore some possibilities, as Emily Dickinson said.”
Christina chuckled. “Ah, yes. ‘I dwell in possibility.’ Remember that quote? Well, you have no children, so you can make your own decisions.”
“True, but there are risks with this. I’m renting out my condo, not putting it up for sale.”
“Great idea. At some point, I’ll have to go back and put my house on the market.”
We’d finished with our legs. Christina rolled up her towel and a woman whisked it from her hand, along with mine. I could get used to this kind of service.
I gave the castle another glance. “Your digs aren’t too shabby.”
She shook her head. “Come on. You’re staying in my old room. Dated, wouldn’t you say? We’re in the process of doing some redecorating. So, back to England. Any available men in Sussex?”
I choked on my mimosa. “Napkin, please,” I managed to get out.
Christina managed to hand me one. “Oh, I hoped you don’t get all sticky from the orange juice.” With all the fuss and dabbing at juice, I hoped Christina would forget where this conversation had left off.
But no luck. “Again,” she said, waving her goblet of juice, “back to the men.”
“Well, there are some.” What more could I say without sending her to the Internet for details?
“Okay, any chemistry?” Christina wasn’t letting up.
“Not sure. The Brits can be a bit different––different bordering on difficult.” We both broke into laughter. How I wished I had Christina around to laugh with the way we used to.
“Sometimes the difficult men are the best, the most interesting.” Christina’s distant smile made me wonder if Marco had fit that description.
Alfredo had returned with the grape juice and she took a sip.
Christina’s mother-in-law appeared and she waved the older woman over. Ama was a really strange bird, in my book.
