“That, too, sir.”
Sophie was still reeling from the girlfriend comment when Nigel took her hand and led her up the stone steps to the front entrance. The architecture alone was drool-worthy and Sophie couldn’t wait to see the interior. She could only imagine the videos she could shoot from here...if she were actually here as herself and had the opportunity to do such things.
She missed her design shoots, but since going undercover, she’d had to back off just a bit. She still replied to comments and answered her DMs on her social media accounts, but she was itching to get back to new material...and Shrewsbury Hall was the absolute perfect backdrop.
Too bad she wasn’t here as Sophie Blackwood, interior designer.
Hell, she wasn’t even here as Roslyn Andrews, consultant. She was here as an imposter of an imposter. Good grief. It would be a miracle if she didn’t need therapy after this entire ordeal.
And after the hit to her mental state—and, inevitably, to her heart—she had better find some seriously juicy dirt on Miranda once she returned to New York.
“From what you’ve said before, I wouldn’t have taken your grandmother for the bourbon type,” Sophie muttered as they reached the door. “I assumed tea and cookies, or biscuits as you call them.”
Nigel laughed. “Don’t try to stereotype her. You’ll never find a box that fits the personality of Dame Claire Worthington.”
Sophie didn’t know
whether to be afraid or amused, but before she could decide, Nigel opened the double doors and swept her inside.
All air caught in her lungs as Sophie took in the magnificent foyer that extended up to the second floor. Straight ahead was a fountain with a curved staircase flanking either side.
The chandelier’s beaming lights bounced off the marble floor, the fresh floral arrangements at the base of each staircase were perfectly placed in large marble urns. Not only was the entrance something from a royal magazine but the fragrant aroma from the wintery mix smelled so inviting.
This setting could have easily been ripped out of a fairy tale and Roslyn wished more than anything she could let herself get swept away into this fantasy life.
“There’s my city boy.”
Sophie turned her attention to a tall striking woman with a stylish pixie cut. The silver-haired lady had on a pair of jeans and a bright green sweater paired with little silver sneakers. Not at all the image Sophie had had in her mind of the Dame. But her relaxed style did put Sophie a little more at ease.
Nigel’s grandmother came up and wrapped her arms around him before easing back and turning her focus, and affection, to Sophie. She found herself enveloped in a strong embrace and caught Nigel’s smirk and smile over the shoulder of Dame Claire.
“Welcome, welcome,” she greeted, pulling away from Sophie. “I’m Claire.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dame Worthington. I’m Roslyn Andrews.”
Nigel’s grandmother waved a hand and shook her head. “None of this Dame nonsense. Those titles are so archaic. Call me Claire. And while you’re at it, tell me how you managed to capture my workaholic grandson’s attention to get him to bring you here.”
“Can we at least take our coats off and get settled before you start grilling her?” Nigel asked. “And you ordered me to bring a date, so don’t pretend to be surprised.”
“As if you ever listen to me,” Claire muttered. “You’ve never brought a woman here in your life, so I’m already impressed with this one.”
Sophie removed her coat and handed it to a man who seemed to appear out of nowhere, along with two others, to take their things.
Nigel had never brought a lady home? That was rather interesting. Did he mean it when he said he just wanted her here as a guise or did he actually want to spend alone time with her and have her meet his family?
Sophie didn’t know what all the answers were and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it now. If there was a chance that Nigel had truly wanted to share more of his life with her, then she feared the guilt would consume her. She wished she could go back and tell him everything, wished she could start fresh. Maybe then what they shared could actually be real.
But she couldn’t go back and she definitely couldn’t tell him the truth now.
“William said you had bourbon,” Nigel said after the staff took their things.
“Your favorite,” Claire replied with a wink.
“Oh, please. You introduced me to that brand when I turned eighteen and told me not to settle for anything less.”
Claire laughed. “Guilty. So come on in and let’s chat.”
She wedged herself between Nigel and Sophie, looping her arms between them, and led them into another massive room with high ceilings. The fireplace on the far wall crackled with a warm fire and a tray of fruit, cheese, cookies, and other finger foods was set out on the table between the large leather sofas.