“Can we help Stanley with the bags?”
“That would be quite the faux pas, though I suppose you could get away with it.”
“I don’t want to embarrass you,” I said.
Right now, I was afraid I was about to break this entire house just by looking at it. I didn’t belong here.
Maybe I didn’t belong in Kit’s life at all.
“You could never embarrass me,” Kit said. “It’s an honor that you bother with me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I got the impression that I should’ve been calling KitMy Lordthe entire time I’d known him, and I couldn’t quite get past it yet.
“He reminds me of Michael Caine. Stanley, I mean,” I said, clinging to something small and manageable that didn’t make panic rise in my throat. I liked Stanley as long as I didn’t think about Kit’s dad being the kind of person who had agentleman’s gentleman, a concept so alien to me that I only vaguely understood it.
Kit said it was like having a personal assistant, but it didn’tfeellike that at all.
“Oh, please do tell him that if you get the chance, he’d be thrilled,” Kit said, kicking at the gravel beneath our feet. “I think he rather thinks of himself as an Alfred to my father’s Batman. Only, as far as I know, my father is yet to start viciously assaulting the poor and downtrodden for petty crimes that might be better solved through social programs.”
“Was that another vote for Superman?” I teased, feeling the tiniest bit better about all this as I filled my lungs with crisp country air.
Kit smiled wryly. “I suppose it was. I suppose you can see where my distaste for Batman springs from, although I’d actually never connected the two things until now.”
… and I was suddenly right back to panicking again. Did Kit come fromWayne familymoney?
Where the hell was my best friend? My best friend who worked more hours than I did and wore his bright red canvas sneakers until they fell apart and laughed at my terrible jokes and was starting to really get the hang of making pancakes?
“Shall we head inside?” Kit asked. “Bloody cold out here.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking up at the huge, beautiful double doors with the polished brass handles, scared to leave my fingerprints on them. “Yeah, let’s... go inside.”
The heavy door squealed on its hinges as Kit pushed it open for me, revealing a world of color, light, warmth, and comfort inside.
We stepped into a high-ceilinged entryway to stand in front of the kind of enormous double staircase I'd only ever seen in movies. Between the staircases was a tree that must have been fifteen feet tall—tall enough that I’d be able to touch the star on top from the landing above, even over the railing. It twinkled with lights and glittered with ornaments and ribbons, the branches weighed down with them.
As I stepped closer, the smell of pine told me it was the real thing.
“Oh my god,” I murmured as I crossed over to it, reaching out to touch one of the shining gold sleigh bells hung on a low branch.
The bell fell off the tree, and my eyes widened as it rolled away across the glossy polished floorboards. I chased it, reaching out to grab it but missing and pushing it further out of reach with the tips of my fingers.
Behind me, I could hear Kit laughing.
Eventually, a shiny leather-shoed foot stopped it for me, and I swooped down to pick it up by the ribbon.
When I stood, I found myself looking up at an older man who had Kit’s periwinkle blue eyes, right down to the sparkle in them as he smiled a warm, kind smile at me. He was a mousy blond with the first hints of grey, in contrast to the raven-black hair Kit had, but the family resemblance was unmissable.
My stomach dropped, and my head spun.
This had to be Kit’s dad. Lord Oakesbury.
I’d never met a Marquess before, whatever the hell that was. Was I meant to bow? Curtsey? Was I maybe meant to kiss his ring, or something?
“You must be Andy,” he said as though he’d been waiting all his life to meet me.
I froze.
“Uh. Lord, umm... Sir... Edward?"
