Game Of Love(Romance edition)

Chapter 18

Victoria's POV

Wow. I bring down the tinted glass, my mouth going a gape at the large beautiful green landscape of a garden, a few people attending to its care to ensure its evergreen lives.

The grass cut to perfection in its almost perfectly flat land while being decorated by long hedges that stretch about two and a half meters each a meter or two apart as we drive through the road between them.

Probably sensing my awestruck nature, although I think my face gave it off, he drives slowly with a low chuckle.

My cheeks flush red from the thoughts and I'm glad I'm looking out the window. He negotiates a curve and my eyes still looking out the side of the car, with my jaw dropping down as unladylike as possible at the building before me.

"Welcome home," he says like they do in those movies where some prodigal son or daughter returns after a long time away.

You just had to, I say with a roll of my eyes, my gaze never leaving the building. He gets out of his seat, closing the door gently behind him before coming over to open mine and giving me his hand to help me out.

Thank you, Mr. Chauffer, you might be getting that pay after all, I say in the worst British accent I can make while I get out of my seat and try to hide my shock.

A grown man in a black suit and a buttoned-up white shirt comes in our direction. He gives me a skeptical look with a brow raised and looks at Sam who just smiles.

"When you told me that we had a special guest you never mentioned you wanted to introduce your girlfriend," he teases in an impeccable British accent. I should take lessons.

His words seem to have given Sam a 180, his expression resembling that of the shy Sam I first met and I try hard not to giggle.

"She's not my girlfriend," he lets out and the man in his early 50s, grey eyes, and his aging hair looking sharp in the tuxedo that might cost more than my car.

He turns around and gives him a look that I dont know why resembles Bryans, a laugh following it.

"Sure you two arent. You going to let go of her hand so that I can introduce myself?" his gaze causes us to follow, Sam's hands and mine together not entangled but still together.

I feel my cheeks slowly warm up, how the heck didn't I still feel him holding me? Or did my fingers pass out from excitement, I mentally scream in shock.

More thoughts flood through my head and I don't want to be the one to remove my hand first but I don't want to make this awkward either because if he does first then it'll look like I don't want to hold his hand.

Think girl think. A solution finally comes to my mind as I take the final moments of how his soft warm hands feel on mine.

"A-chew" I fake sneeze into the back of my elbow or whatever it's called as my only escape route. "Sorry about that," I apologize hoping that they fell for it. "Bless you," the two males let out in harmonic sync.

"Victoria Wilson meet Edmund Burke, he's a butler but more of an uncle to me," Sam says, Edmund, taking my hand in his gloved one before planting a kiss atop the backside of my palm.

Ah, chivalry never gets old, I wonder as he rises and winks. Okay?

"Please do come in," he gestures towards the large opened French gates at the top of the staircase, the mahogany showing off the wealth of the house.

I take a few steps toward just going about a step past Edmund when I hear him whisper "It's ready." Must be some business thing.

The aged man comes in front of me, Sam to my side. We walk into the lovely reception of beige and gold regalia, small chandeliers at regular intervals giving it an antique look.

Several paintings and family portraits align the walls as we come to something like a centerpiece.

The large chandelier on top sparkling with the light, the hallway now bracing into three different directions with a flight of stairs at the left and right side that further opens up.

"As much as a tour would be necessary," Edmund says in his flawless accent spinning on his heel to face us, "Breakfast would need to be served and eaten this time," he says the last part seeming like a direct shot at Sam as his gaze narrows to him.

"He doesn't eat?" I ask worriedly about Sam. "Mostly yes, he's been rather naughty these days," Edmund says, another worker comes up to him and says something in his ear before she is excused.

"There's no need for that I have something to do, you show her to the dining area or the kitchen if she wants to make something herself," he states. No way I'm letting someone else make decisions about me, you on the other hand.

A smile creeps up my face and I wrap a hand around Sam's and pull him close hoping that he can't feel my racing heartbeat, "Or we could go eat because I'd feel bad if you didn't at least have a bite of something," I say dragging him along down the left-wing.

"Ms. Wilson!" Edmund cries out, "Dinnings the other way," he says a little bit of laughter traced within his voice.

I let go of Sam, who although wasn't pulling away from me, manage to stumble a little and trip. Now I've done it.

My cheeks flare dangerously red at the embarrassment. I look at Sam a few strands of his hair in-between his eyes as he looks up at me with a smile, arms holding him up from the back.

His eyes as if being hit by light sparkle the sun highlighting his feature but giving it a smooth look, like a baby adult or something.

Damn this is too cute, I squeal inwardly as he gets up to his feet assisted by the butler of the year who seems he's about to laugh his head off.

"In all my years of work it's only today that I see you doing my job," Edmund teases, "First the car door then a reason to laugh, quite the show young master," he adds in a wise tale voice.

Sam, who seems to have been tongue-tied for so long, brushes himself before running a hand through his hair. "Let's go eat I'm starving," he says a childish grin on his face and with a few strides his right in front of me.

I smack him in the chest and walk past him, choosing to be the mature one now, "Shall we be in our way?" I ask Edmund who shoots me a brow before nodding.