The United Kingdom in general, actually.

That was why most of us believed King Arthur was buried in Glastonbury and would awaken to save us when the world went to balls.

It was nice to have something to look forwards to.

Who wouldn’t want a medieval king to awaken and sort out the mess that was the world? They knew how to handle people back in the day, if you asked me.

Lied? Beheaded. Treason? Hung. Murdered someone? Burnt at the stake.

I had no problem with that. When I rose to power, the Tower of London would be restored to its former glory.

Not that I would ever rise to power. There were about one hundred and twenty people ahead of me in the line of succession to the British throne, so I wasn’t getting near Buckingham Palace anytime soon.

State banquets notwithstanding, and I hated those.

Did like the gowns, though.

I paid the parking charge on the machine and returned to my car to put the ticket on my dashboard. The last thing I needed was another parking ticket because I’d run out of change, so thank God I kept a stash of pound coins in my glove box for this reason.

Barty’s was just down the street from the carpark, so I hauled the strap of my handbag over my shoulder, clutched the top of it, and made my way off the smooth concrete pavement onto the cobbled street that would lead to the restaurant.

It looked much the same as every other building in the upmarket area of the village. It was straight out of the Georgian period, a continuation of the nearby city of Bath, and the architecture amazed me every single time I walked among the intricately carved buildings.

And thank goodness for my beloved espadrilles—flat ones today, stopping me from falling flat on my face on these cobblestones.

Not that I’d ever done that.

Ahem.

I approached Lord Bartholomew’s and dipped under the awning that provided shade by the door. The heavy wooden door had a large brass handle that I gripped to open it as I slid my sunglasses on top of my head. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the lower light inside, but as soon as it did, I saw Adelaide and Eva at our usual table.

They were identical twins, but due to a lifetime of knowing them I could tell them apart. Adelaide’s hair was slightly darker than Eva’s, but Eva was about half an inch taller than Adelaide, something Addy made up for by always wearing a heel. Even without that, I knew who was who because Addy had two dimples but Eva only had one, and Eva almost always tucked her hair behind her left ear while Addy tucked it behind her right.

I felt a little bit like God around these two sometimes.

“Oh, look, it’s the Cottage Core Queen!” Adelaide grinned as she stood up, and Eva groaned, following suit.