Sebastian didn’t know which was more amusing – watching Gabrielle’s eyes grow wider and wider with every additional room that was revealed to her or watching the staff whisper about her as they passed. So far, the story he’d concocted about her being a wealthy daughter to an oil baron hadn’t been questioned. This was, of course, because the young woman had showed remarkable restraint when it came to speaking with members of his household and the media that had mobbed her the moment she’d stepped from the plane. Thankfully, the public had taken this to mean she was demure and shy. Sebastian knew it to be because the poor woman was so overwhelmed by her surroundings that she couldn’t react on the spot. In three weeks, she’d packed everything she had, gotten on a plane and crossed the Atlantic Ocean to re-settle in the heart of London. He’d picked his London home because he’d deemed it far enough removed from his parents in Raithwithe that they couldn’t cause much trouble and because they might as well face the most hectic and rabid public before them and rip the Band-Aid off the wound.
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