Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,2

they probably won’t get the hiring process started for a few months, so they’re going to make me the acting director as soon as Darren retires.”

“Wow.” Maddie put her water bottle down and pulled her mom into a hug. “I’m so thrilled for you; this is such great recognition after all of your hard work.”

The recognition had felt satisfying, even though she was still in shock about all of this.

“That’s true, though it means I’ll be jumping into a job with lots of hard work, and I won’t get to see patients nearly as much . . . or maybe not at all. But it’s a big honor”—she grinned—“and more money.”

Maddie settled back against the car seat.

“Well, I’m even more glad I made you come on this trip with me. I’m sure you’ll take even fewer vacations once you’re the big boss.”

That was probably very true. Yes, she was glad she’d come on this trip with her daughter. She hadn’t been on vacation—a real vacation, not just a few days off work—in a year and a half. The only other time she’d even been out of the country was that trip she’d taken with her friends to Mexico for her fortieth birthday, and that had been well over ten years ago.

She looked out the car window for her first glimpses of England. The sun was setting already, which surprised her, since they’d landed in the middle of the afternoon. She reminded herself how much farther north London was from the Bay Area, and it was almost the shortest day of the year; of course sunset was this early.

After about an hour and a half, the car slowed down. She and Maddie peered out the windows into the darkness—they couldn’t see much, but it seemed like they were turning off the highway and onto smaller roads. Then the car slowed down even more, and it got darker outside the car windows; the streetlights had seemed to disappear, and all she could see were the outlines of trees. She and Maddie looked at each other with their eyes wide open.

Vivian reached out and grabbed her daughter’s hand and squeezed hard.

“You’re going to be great at this.”

Maddie nodded.

“Thanks, Mom. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Vivian smiled.

“Me too.”

Just then, the car came to a stop, and the very polite driver leaped out of his seat to open their car doors.

“Madam. Madam. Welcome to Sandringham.”

Vivian turned to Maddie.

“Deep breaths,” she said under her voice, before she turned to get out of the car.

“Thank you,” Vivian said to the driver. She reached for her carry-on, but before she could pick it up, someone else had come running.

“Allow me, ma’am.”

With nothing to carry, she and Maddie turned toward the . . . cottage? Was this a cottage? Oh God. She would have called it a mansion, but then, they did have different words for things in England. She still couldn’t remember what they called a bathroom. She was going to have to ask Maddie.

They walked up to the front door, but before they got to the top step, yet another man in a suit opened it.

“Ms. Forest and Ms. Forest? Welcome.”

Vivian and Maddie turned to each other and smiled before walking inside.

They’d just taken their coats off and handed them to Suit #3, when a woman came down the hall toward them.

“You’re here! I’m so glad you made it! How was your flight? Was the drive here okay? I know it’s so cold outside, but we’ve made up the fires in your rooms. Would you like a hot buttered rum to warm you up after your trip? Some sandwiches or scones, maybe?”

She was smaller in person, but even prettier than she looked on the cover of People magazine. Vivian hoped Maddie would get to find out exactly what her skin care regimen was, because the woman was glowing.

Vivian reached out her hand.

“Thank you so much, and thank you for your hospitality. Both the flight and the drive were very easy. And I can’t speak for my daughter, but hot buttered rum sounds like a dream come true.”

Maddie laughed.

“And so do sandwiches and scones.”

The Duchess ignored Vivian’s hand and pulled her into a hug instead.

“Wonderful! Let me take you upstairs, show you to your rooms, and let you get freshened up, then you can come down to the sitting room for a little feast. Don’t worry; I’m sure you’re exhausted. I don’t want to keep you up too late. I know how those flights from California to England can