I felt him relax beside me, and knew I’d done the right thing. I was glad Kit wasn’t facing Christmas with his family alone, I hated to think of him lonely out here.
“I can’t help noticing your excellent taste in outerwear, Andy,” Teddy said as we got underway again, my hand still tucked firmly into Kit’s, heart doing all kinds of gymnastics as I swung between enjoying it and feeling guilty for enjoying it without telling Kit I was.
“My coat?” I asked. “It’s, umm. It was my dad’s. He gave it to me when I started work at the foundation, because of the commute. Said I needed it more than he did.”
“I understand he passed on not long ago,” Teddy said softly.
I nodded, and Kit squeezed my hand.
“I lost my father at around your age as well,” Teddy said. “So please believe me when I say that I really am very sorry.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“But please also believe me, as a father myself, that he would be very proud of you. For the record, I too would be proud to call you a son.”
Teddy strode ahead of us before I could come up with an answer to that.
“I think that was his way of hinting that I ought to propose to you,” Kit said, low and soft, with laughter in his voice.
“Well, maybe you oughta,” I teased. “Would that make me the... Marchioness of Oakesbury?”
I’d looked up marquesses on my phone while I’d been playing with the dogs. My dad always said knowledge was power, and that you didn’t have to be scared of things if you understood him.
I had my doubts about not being scared, but I felt a little better knowing.
“Well done on Marchioness, but no,” Kit said. “At least, not until father died. It would make you the... well, I am the Earl of Ravenswold by courtesy, so I suppose that would make you... the Countess? Or perhaps the Count, rather.”
“The Count,” I repeated. “Like on Sesame Street?”
“You wouldn’t have to do the accent,” Kit teased. “You took that well.”
“I’m thinking about getting used to it,” I admitted, because thatwaswhere I was at. Not used to it yet, but working out how I could accept it. I’d have to, if I wanted to keep Kit. And more than anything, I wanted to keep Kit.
So what if he was literally in line for the throne? He was stillKit.
Besides, nearly impossible sounded like pretty good odds to me. Maybe it’d never really matter.
We walked in silence for a while, still holding hands. Cars honked as they drove past us, Teddy waving cheerfully at all of them and mutteringgood eveningandhow d’you do?as if they could hear him.
I couldn’t stop staring as we reached the village. Rows of ancient-looking stone buildings, all with glowing windows. People out in winter coats of every color, laden down with bags and boxes. Families with children pausing as the kids pressed their noses to windows.
The wind picked up for a handful of seconds, Kit dragging me into an alcove to escape the worst of it, pulling me close to his body.
“Hi,” I said, looking up at him as he blushed.
“Hello,” Kit said. “Sorry. Didn’t want you getting blown away.”
Outside the alcove, snowflakes started drifting lazily down, floating in the breeze.
Children squealed with excitement, escaping their parents to stand in the middle of the street, mouths open, trying to catch a snowflake on their tongues.
I watched, mesmerized, as two men rushed over to a little girl, the taller one picking her up and perching her on his shoulders while the other one tilted his head back as well, like the kids.
A family.
The taller one jabbed his partner in the ribs, all three of them laughing as they headed further down the street.
Maybe it was because it was Christmas, but my heart felt a size too big for my chest.
