Both Kit and his dad burst into laughter.
I’d heard a lot about how much better British comedy was, but ifthiswas what passed for a joke...
“It’s not that funny,” I said, since neither of them seemed like they were about to stop laughing.
“No, no it isn’t,” Kit said, still laughing. “They’re all like that, they’re awful. But your disgust athowawful,thatwas funny.”
“Your delivery couldn’t have been more perfect,” Teddy said. “You’ve got a natural talent for this.”
He laughed again, and now that I knew what they were laughing at, itwaspretty funny.
“Kit’s turn,” his dad said as I finally opened mine up, pulling out what looked like a chocolate bar. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Oh bloody hell,” Kit said, peering down at his wrapper. “I remember this one, don’t they ever change these?”
“I’ll write to McVities and ask,” his dad said.
I liked him, now that I was over the shock of the house and thestaffand the ridiculously fine china and the part where he was an actual real Lord. A Marquess, whatever the hell that meant. It sure as hellsoundedimportant.
“What do you call a penguin with no eye?” Kit asked.
His dad chuckled, apparently remembering the joke too.
“A pengun,” Kit said wryly. “NoletterI.”
I giggled. Itwasfunny. Not the joke, but the way Kit told it.
Thebiscuit,which was definitely just a cookie by another name, turned out to be chocolate coated, chocolate flavored, and filled with some kind of chocolate cream. Between it and my too-sweet cup of tea, the world was starting to feel a little more bearable.
So. My best friend in the whole world had a country manor, and staff, and a title to inherit when his dad was gone.
Okay. Okay. If I didn’t think too hard about it, that was fine. I could handle it.
The doors to the parlor burst open just as I was thinking that.
“What are you two doing, hiding in here?”
