She put her head in her hands.

“It’s completely killing me, but I’m not going to ask, I swear.”

He took her hand as they drove down the busy street.

“Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”

She sighed, then laughed at herself.

“I’m sure you think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”

He squeezed her hand.

“Not at all. I think you’re marvelous for letting me surprise you.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thank you.”

Warmth spread across her chest. She squeezed his hand and released it.

“Thank you for making today so lovely. And I know if I asked, you’d tell me immediately, which I appreciate.”

As they drove through London, she saw a few landmarks, but nothing that gave her any hints about where they were going.

Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled over and stopped. They must be there. Vivian looked outside for a clue. Yet another large, majestic, stone building. Oh yeah, that told her a lot.

Malcolm took her hand again on the sidewalk. Now she knew he was trying to reassure her; this was as much of a public display of affection as Malcolm would ever do (with the exception of that kiss under the mistletoe).

They walked up the steps of the building. Whatever kind of building it was, it looked closed, but she’d already learned things like that weren’t a barrier for Malcolm.

Sure enough, the door swung open just as they got to the top.

“Malcolm! Right on time, of course.”

A short, round, smiling man with very pale skin and a big dark mustache held the door open for them. Vivian generally had a rule to never trust a man with a mustache, but this one was so adorable she had to smile back at him.

“George, so good to see you, and thanks again. This is my friend, Ms. Vivian Forest, visiting from America. Vivian, this is George Marwick.”

Vivian gave George her hand and was briefly convinced he would kiss it. He didn’t, but he pressed it between both of his and beamed at her.

“Ms. Forest, welcome to the Victoria and Albert Museum!”

“Thank you so much, it’s a joy to be here,” she said. Malcolm caught her eye and grinned. She could tell he knew she had no idea what the Victoria and Albert Museum was.

“I believe this is your first visit to the V&A, is that correct, Ms. Forest?” George asked her.

So much so that she hadn’t known it existed before, yes.

“Please, call me Vivian,” she said. “And yes, it’s my first visit here. This is my first trip to England, as a matter of fact.”

The little man gasped like she’d given him a special treat.

“Oh, how wonderful! Well, welcome to England in addition to the museum! I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit?”

She smiled and squeezed Malcolm’s hand.

“Tremendously. Thank you so much.”

George took off past the vacant check-in desk and beckoned them to follow him.

“Well, that’s just glorious. Now, there is so much to see at this museum, but I have orders to take you straight to—” He glanced at Malcolm and then made an exaggerated zipping motion to his lips. “My apologies, my apologies. I don’t want to spoil the surprise! Please, just follow me.”

What could he be taking her straight to? From some of the signs they passed by, it seemed like this place was full of . . . sculptures? Tapestries? Fashion? Where could they be going? Had she said something to Malcolm to make him think she loved any of those things?

They followed George through the gift shop, then through a long walkway with a row of sculptures down the middle. She kind of wanted to stop and ask George about the sculptures and why they were here, and if people ever tried to touch them, like she so desperately wanted to do right now, but she could tell Malcolm wanted to get to the surprise.

They went up two flights of wide stone stairs, the last one with a huge painting of a woman at the top. She started to ask George who it was, but she could tell from the excitement on his face that they were almost there.

“This is a real treat you have ahead of you,” George said. “All by yourselves in here, when it’s usually a mob scene. Just remember, the alarms are all on!”

He chuckled at his joke, and Vivian did, too, even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Just before she followed George through the door, Malcolm leaned down and whispered into her ear.

“I’ll be behind you, so you don’t have to monitor the look on your face on my account, I promise.”

She smiled and stepped inside. She was confused at first. The room was dark, much darker than the rest of the museum. There was no sculpture and no tapestries, just . . .

Oh. My. God.

Jewels.

Everywhere she looked, there were jewels.

She turned in a circle. The room was dark, but there were lights on all of the display cases, and the sparkle was almost blinding. White and red and blue and pink and green and gold, all gleaming out at her.

She looked at Malcolm. He was staring at her and biting his lip.

“You said you hoped to see a tiara in real life.”

He’d planned this whole trip, just because she’d said that.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said. “You’re making me feel like royalty.”

A huge smile spread across his face.