She blinked at him. “What else would I name them?”

“Billy?” Alex offered with a grin. “Gruff?”

I laughed.

“I do fancy another pair, though. I was thinking about Elizabeth and Philip.”

Alex composed himself. “Skipped a few monarchs there, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes.” She tapped her chin. “But the four kings between our queens are Edwards and Georges. I suppose George is an option, but Edward isn’t. Has rather a negative connotation to it, doesn’t it?”

I kicked Alex under the table.

We were not going to get my aunt started on Edward.

I’d hear nothing but her rants on him and Wallis Simpson for the next week, and I much preferred my sanity.

“Elizabeth and Philip are great names for goats,” I agreed. “Especially since the Queen is the GOAT.”

“Did you just call Her Majesty a goat?”

Alex’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“No, I said the GOAT.”

Aunt Cat pressed her hand against her chest in horror. “That’s your distant relative you’re besmirching!”

Jesus. How did I get here? “The greatest of all time,” I said quickly, before she could spiral any further. “It’s a compliment. GOAT. Greatest of all time. See?”

She frowned. “Why can’t you just say she’s the greatest of all time? You kids these days. You’re so lazy in your English. Never mind horticulture classes, Gabriella, you need some elocution lessons.”

Absolutely not. Two years of those in my teens was more than enough, thank you very much.

Aunt Cat disappeared on that bombshell, and I grimaced when I caught Alex’s eye. He was looking at me contemplatively with his head tilted to the side.

“What?” I said warily.

“Horticulture classes?”

“So?”

“Hey, no, it’s a good thing for you.” He touched my hand. “You’ve always loved to garden. What’s taken you so long?”

“What do you think?” I muttered, folding the chess board away. I wasn’t allowed to use the actual chess table because of the fact I was, apparently, a Very Bad Loser. See the pawn under the bookcase twenty feet away. “I doubt Dad would be very pleased with it. He’s on state banquet business and he’s trying to set me up with Steven.”

My cousin shuddered as he retrieved my wayward pawn. “Didn’t you go on a few dates in college?”

“Mhmm. He had a wandering eye.” I took the piece and put it in its spot in the box. “I understand Daddy’s desire for me to get married, and preferably to a future duke, but I’d prefer it to be to someone who can keep it in his pants, regardless of a title or not.”

“Isn’t he seeing somebody?” Alex held the door for me as we headed outside. “I could swear Spencer told me Steven was going out with—bloody hell, who was it?”

I had no idea.

“Annabelle Fortescue!”

“Ugh!” I shuddered. “Why is he seeing her?”

He shrugged. “She’s good in bed.”

“Alexander!” I slapped his shoulder. “I don’t want to know that.”

He chuckled. “You asked. At least she was when I was eighteen. Can’t imagine she’s gotten worse.”