�If you had asked me last year what I�d be doing for reading week I�d never guess I�d be spending it at Balmoral,� I confess as we pull up in front of the country estate.

        �Are you disappointed?� Wills asks, glancing my way from behind the wheel.

        �Not at all,� I smile, enjoying the beautiful scenery that so few people get to see. �It�s beautiful.�

        �It�s better in the summer when everything is green and Dad�s gardens are in bloom.�

        �You�re forgetting I live with snow. It makes it that much cozier. And there is so much you can do in it,� I say suggestively.

        �We could have fun,� Wills says, a devilish look on his face as we pull up in front of the main entrance. As he puts the car into park, the doorman comes from the front doors to take the car from us after we remove our luggage from the trunk. Wills explained to me before that the staff will give us as much space as we want here. They are paid to be discrete.

        The two men refuse to let me carry my luggage in, each taking a suitcase (Wills� and mine) and the doorman also taking my carry-on. I send Wills a look but he just smiles at me. I know well enough to not protest in front of the staff, but I hate letting others do my work.

        We walk to the front door and Wills opens it for me. I am quite glad that Wills didn�t let me carry a bag as I pause just inside the doors to enjoy the view. Though it is much simpler than St. James is, where we stayed at the end of the summer, it is stunning.

        �Welcome to the cottage,� Wills whispers in my ear with a laugh.

        �It�s beautiful,� I say, admiring the slightly more �rustic� look of the royals� country palace.

        Wills sets down the bag he brought in and removes his coat and shoes, then offers to take my coat.

        �I think whether or not the servants are around I�m going to be spoiled this week,� I say while Wills helps me out of my coat.

        �I�m at your service,� he says with a smile as he hands our coats over to the waiting butler. �Would you care for a tour?�

        �I�d love one, though I may still need a map.�

        Wills wraps his arm around my waist and begins to lead me out of the entry.

        �Why? I don�t plan on letting you out of my sight all week.�

        �I could enjoy this,� I lean in closer to Wills, placing a bit of weight against him. He holds me a little tighter as well.

        As we walk around the castle, Wills explains some of the history behind the pictures and the rooms.

        �And Harry wonders why you chose to go into history,� I laugh as he points out another odd fact. �You live in a museum.�

        �Yet another �advantage� of being born a prince,� Wills smiles, but I can sense his dislike of the �museum� he lives in.

        �What about me?� I question with mock-innocence.

        �You, my dear,� he says while turning to me and wrapping his arms around my waist, �you are a true gift, no matter my station.�

        Staring into his loving eyes, I blush. �Charmer.�

        Wills smiles. �And you love me all the more for it,� he whispers as he moves in for a short, gentle kiss.

        �I never said I was complaining,� I laugh, pulling his head down for a much longer kiss.

        Wills doesn�t protest my forwardness, actually taking complete advantage of it. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he bends down while pulling me up onto demi-point. I am grateful I kept up with my dancing as he holds my head close to his, a position not easily maintained without one, or both of us stretching.

That's all that's written for this part for now. Go to Part IV, back to Crazy Fantasy, or the home page.