The ungodly, ear-splitting screech of the train pulling out of the station interrupted me, Andy wincing at the sound.
As we got underway I opened my mouth to speak again, but then a family with a gaggle of young children walked past, laughing and shouting, and my nerve evaporated.
Andy sipped his tea, looking out the window as the train trundled its way out toward the countryside, eyelids drooping as he sat back.
“What was that?” he asked after a long moment, sleepy.
Now wasn’t the time. Not when he was tired. Perhaps if he took a nap on the journey, I could tell him before we got to our station.
Yes. That would work. I’d have plenty of time to decide exactly how I wanted to tell him, which words to choose, where to start.
“Nothing that won’t keep,” I assured him. “You ought to take a nap. Here,” I added, shrugging my coat off and offering it to him. “A blanket.”
Andy took the coat, held it up for a moment as though he’d never seen it before, and then tucked himself under it, burying his nose in the collar and letting his eyes fall closed. A tiny smile played about his lips, and as I alternated between watching the world go by outside and watching him, his breathing slowed and shallowed.
“I’m so sorry, Andy,” I told his sleeping form. “I’m not at all what you think I am.”
Andy snuggled further into my coat in his sleep.
I switched my sim card over to the one I’d picked up at the airport and texted my father, letting him know we were on the train and when we were expected to arrive.
I could see it all now. Rather than trying to tell him on a noisy, uncomfortable train, I’d take Andy to a little café in the village, or else to the pub, sit him down, and explain to him. That way we wouldn’t be in any kind of hurry, I could answer as many questions as he wanted, and hopefully he’d be on even footing by the time we called a cab to get to where we were going.
Yes. Perfect. I’d stumbled on the best possible plan through sheer strength of cowardice.
I stared out the window at the countryside going by quietly, exhausted but determined to watch over Andy while he napped. The rocking motion of the train was soothing, and I found I could peer out the window and let almost all of my brain shut down except for the part that remained just alert enough to notice when Andy shifted or made a sound, to check that he wasn’t in any kind of distress.
Before I knew it, we were one station away from the one I planned to get off at.
Andy woke at the barest whisper of his name, stretching and yawning as he handed my coat back and stood, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before helping me get our suitcases out of the luggage rack.
He was still blinking sleepily and yawning as we made our way out of the train station.
My heart stopped as I saw a familiar face.
Oh no. Ohno.
“Young master Kit!” Stanley enthused, opening the back passenger door of the sparklingly clean black Bentley I remembered Father mentioning he’d upgraded to earlier in the year.
“And this must be Master Andrew,” Stanley added. “Twice as handsome as His Lordship said, if you ask me.”
Andy blinked at him, and then at me.
Too late now. Nothing for it but the truth.
“My father is the Marquess of Oakesbury,” I blurted out, too late now to ease him into the idea.
“As in...”
“As in Lady Oakesbury, of the Lady Oakesbury Foundation. I’m her great-grandson.”
