15
Andy
“Master Andrew?”a familiar voice called through the door, moments after Kit had left the room.
“Come in,” I called, zipping my overnight bag closed. I was glad now that I’d had the foresight to bring a packable one with me. I’d imagined bringing home a lot of candy and snacks we couldn’t get back home.
The door opened hesitantly, Stanley’s face peering into the room.
“Master Andrew,” he repeated.
“You could call me Andy,” I said, standing to talk to him.
“I really couldn’t, sir,” Stanley said. “But I appreciate the gesture all the same.”
“Kit told me I should tell you that you remind me of Michael Caine,” I said, smiling at him.
Stanley blinked. “I shall take that as a compliment, sir.”
“Can we at least not dosir?” I pleaded. “C’mon, my mom was a cleaner and my dad drove a cab. I’m not... like these people.”
“And so you are even more satisfying to treat with the respect due to you as the young master’s beau, because you haven’t come to expect it,” Stanley said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Now, to business—His Lordship wonders if you might be free for a cup of tea in his private study.”
“Teddy?” I asked, remembering the run-in I’d had with Robert yesterday.
“If I had meant Lord Hartsworth, I would have said His Grace,” Stanley explained kindly.
“I’m never gonna get the hang of this title thing,” I said, figuring it was safe to confess that to Stanley.
“You will,” Stanley assured me. “But no one worth the claim to their title will expect you to get it right immediately. Politeness dictates that you should be given time to adjust. They all know it’s new to you.”
“Accent kinda gives me away, huh?” I smiled wryly. I’d never thought for a second about it until I was here.Kithad always been the one with the accent.
The really,reallyhot accent.
“I hope you will forgive me for saying that I find your accent quite charming, sir,” Stanley said.
“Thanks. And uh. I guess I can spare a few minutes for tea?”
I knew Kit wanted to head out soon, but I liked his dad, and I figured this was an interview to see if I was good enough for his son.
I wanted to be. I wanted to be good enough for Kit. Even if I didn’t get the whole title thing yet.
“Very good, sir. If you’ll follow me?”
I shut the door behind me and followed Stanley down the hall, wondering if I’d ever be able to find my way back to Kit in this enormous house.
“Just in there, sir,” Stanley said. “I’ll leave you in peace.”
I looked at the door—identical to all the others along the hall—for a few long seconds before plucking up the courage to knock on it.
“Andy?” Teddy’s voice came from the other side. “Come in my boy, come in.”
As soon as I pushed open the door to the study, it was like stepping into another world. The room was dark but cozy, with a few glowing lamps throwing out just enough light to see comfortably by.
The floor was covered in a patchwork of ornate rugs in every shade of red, green, blue, and cream, some of them threadbare, some nearly new. The furniture was dark and heavy, and there was a lot of it, lining the walls and taking up most of the space. Bookshelves filled with gilded spines, a tapestry hung where I assumed the window was, gold-framed paintings I instantly knew were originals.
Teddy sat in the middle of it all on a worn, dark brown leather couch, in front of a squat coffee table that I realized a second later was actually a lacquered chest that made me think of China.
