He laughed and nodded.

“Don’t worry, the Duke and Duchess often have guests at Sycamore Cottage. The staff—and the Queen—are all aware that you and the other Ms. Forest are here.”

She smiled at him and snapped a few pictures. The wind blew her hair against her face, and he had the wild urge to brush it away. He took a step back from her and cleared his throat. “So, Ms. Forest—excuse me, Vivian. You’re from California, is that right? Did you grow up there?”

She nodded.

“I’ve lived there my whole life. I thought about moving away for a while—I’d decided that after college I’d try to move to the South, or maybe even travel abroad. But life got in the way.”

Most of the time when people said things like this, they looked sad, or at least wistful. Vivian just seemed matter-of-fact.

“But I love California, and I have no idea what it would be like to live anywhere else. Though I love the glimpses of other states and countries that I’ve seen; I hope I get to travel more when I retire.”

“What kind of work do you do?” he asked. He’d learned Americans always wanted you to ask them this question—he usually avoided doing so, but he wanted to put Vivian at ease.

She paused for a moment.

“I’m a social worker. At a hospital in Oakland,” she said.

That was probably why it was so easy to talk to her.

She stuck her hands deeper in her pockets. It really was cold today.

“I have my gloves with me.” He touched her elbow. “If you’re cold and need to wear something on your hands, I mean.”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Oh no, thank you. It’s just that I’m so used to a sunny day and a bright blue sky translating to warmth, so I keep expecting it to warm up, then I remember it doesn’t work like that in most places.”

He was glad she had that warm coat and scarf, at least. It was almost as cold inside Sandringham House as it was outside.

“Will you be all right to walk around outside for a while?” he asked. “Or do you want to head straight for the house?”

She shook her head.

“It’s nice to be outside. Yesterday I was in airports and airplanes and cars all day; it’s good to have some fresh air, even if it’s cold.”

They took a roundabout route up to Sandringham House. She seemed to enjoy looking around at the vast, well-maintained, tree-lined estate, even though he didn’t have much detail to tell her about it.

“Had you been to the U.K. before?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Never. But I’m thrilled to be here.”

He smiled at her.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your holiday. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here.”

Why did he say that? Being a concierge for some American tourists—even if they were the guests of the Duke and Duchess—wasn’t his job.

She smiled at him and shook her head.

Ah. He did it so she’d smile at him again. He must have lost his mind. A fifty-two-year-old man and he was acting like a teenager with a crush.

“That’s so nice of you to offer, but you don’t have to do that. Plus, I’m only here for about a week—we’re here at Sandringham through Christmas, then Maddie and I are spending a few days in London before we fly home.”

“What are you planning to do in London?” he asked.

She laughed.

“I’ve honestly left all of the planning to Maddie, and I barely know anything about London, so it’ll all be fresh and exciting for me. She did say we’re staying at a very fancy hotel, which should be fun.”

That smile was still on her face. It made him want London to be perfect for her.

“Well, please do ask if you have questions about anything; I’d be happy to help. And now, welcome to Sandringham House.” They walked under the big archway in the drive and through the wide front doors. He nodded at the footmen who opened the doors for them. “I usually go in and out one of the side doors, but I decided you needed the full experience for your first time here.”

She stopped in the entryway with a look of awe on her face.

“Wow.” She turned around in a circle, and he turned with her. Right in front of them was the massive Christmas tree, blanketed in white lights, which almost touched the two-story-high ceiling. On either side of the carpeted spiral staircase were two sitting rooms, filled with antique carpets, golden lamps, and brocade couches. The floor was ivory-colored tile. Everything gleamed like it was made of gold.

It was good to see this house through new eyes. It really was a lot to take in. He led her toward the drawing room. She followed him slowly, still looking around.

“Architecturally, this building is a bit of a hodgepodge, but it’s still quite impressive.”

She trailed her hand along the banister as they walked by the stairs.

“Impressive and overwhelming.” She looked up and down the hallway, both sides of which had guns mounted along the walls. “And you work in buildings like this every day?”

He nodded.

“I do. At first I was awed by it every day, and now I’m used to it, for the most part. It strikes me every time something major happens—when there’s a state dinner, or a royal wedding, something like that—but things can become normal to you so quickly. And I’ve been working in and around these buildings for, all told, well over fifteen years now.” He smiled at her. “But sometimes I look around and I can’t believe I work amidst all of this.”