“Ah, well, the airline knows the Duke of Hartsworth insists on being on that specific flight,” Father said, hand curling around my shoulder reassuringly. “Stanley made it clear to them that it would be very appreciated if they could delay it an hour to make sure he has time to catch it. He’s amazing to watch, you know. If youdidask for the moon, I’d probably have to enlist his help.”
“You’ve given me something much harder to come by,” I said, wiping fresh tears away from my eyes.
“I’ll file the papers in the morning,” Father said. “You will go back to being plain old Kit at midnight on New Year’s Eve, if I understand the process correctly. Now, you go and declare yourself to your beloved. Fall on your knees, beg him for forgiveness, tell him you love him. He’ll like that.”
I hoped so.
If Andy agreed to give me another chance, I’d be the luckiest man in the world.
“Your copy of those papers are already with Stanley, in the car,” Father added. “They might make rather a nice Christmas gift for a boy who left here with a broken heart.”
Another wave of tears welled up at the thought of being able to give Andy this—of being able to offer himme, for as long as he’d have me, exactly the way he’d always known me. I sniffed them back, swallowing thickly, and took a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax.
“I love him,” I said.
“I know.” Father smiled at me. “Go get him, hmm? I bet he’s just as upset as you and in need of a good long cuddle.”
I let the blanket fall on the couch and strode toward the parlor door, pushing it open and bursting into the surprisingly bright light of the front hall.
“Ah, Kit!” a voice said behind me.
Will. Holding two glasses of scotch.
“I heard about your little American friend, so sorry,” he said. “Thought you might have use for a shoulder to cry on and a few glasses to take your mind off it.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the glass from him, lifting it to my lips, and then tipping the whole thing down my throat at once, barely tasting it. “I did need that.”
Before I could let my own cowardice get in the way, I drew back my fist and punched him, bone connecting to bone with a satisfying crack.
Will hit the ground like a dropped sack of potatoes, scotch spilling all over his face and soaking the collar of the shirt he was wearing under his sweater. Blood dripped from his nose, staining his lips red as he licked them.
“He bloodyhit me,” Will shrieked, grasping at his bloodied nose. “He’s broken my nose.”
“I do hope so,” Father said cheerfully behind me, taking the empty glass from my hand. “And when you’ve gathered up what’s left of your dignity from the area rug, you can get the hell out of my house.”
Will blinked up at him, and even I turned in surprise.
“Don’t taketoolong, the dogs love a good chase,” Father added, beaming at Will as mother came to the top of the stairs.
“Christopher,” she cried out, eyes wide as she covered her mouth in shock.
“He’s just leaving,” Father said, positioning himself between me and mother. “Better run for it, Kit,” he added, quietly. “Let me know how it goes.”
“I will,” I promised, darting in and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
