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“You look hungover.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re hungover. I see that Ibuprofen. You only take that when you’re hungover.”
What was this? Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Fucking hell.
“Can’t you take your grumpiness to Mum? She’s the root cause of all this, not me. I’m trying to be helpful. Where’s Henry? I don’t see him offering to make you tea.” I poured hot water from the kettle into a teapot. “I’m on your side, you know.”
“You’re only on my so-called side because she’s trying to set you up with someone!” She tapped her stick against my leg as she crossed over to the dining table. “Otherwise you’d throw me to the wolves!”
“Grandma.” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I would never.”
“You’re so full of shit they can smell you in Scotland,” she grumbled.
All right.
I was a little full of shit.
But it didn’t stink quite that bad.
“Grandma. That is very unladylike language,” I scolded her, carrying the pot over for her on a tea tray that Rupert had put together for me.
She stared up at me. “You mistake me for a woman who gives a shit.”
“Tut tut.”
“I’m old. I can do and say what I want.”
“You and your friends can think that all you like, but it doesn’t make it true.” I set the tray down and pulled the tea cosy off the pot. “Would you like me to pour it for you?”
“No. You’ll only do it wrong.” She rested her stick against the table and reached over to pour it for herself.
Again, I wasn’t going to argue with her. She was clearly in that kind of mood, and if anyone was going to be on the end of her threats to be beaten with her walking stick, it would be someone else.
“Good morning!” Mum strolled into the kitchen with a beaming smile. She was as impeccably put together as always in a matching pair of trousers and blazer, and her heels clicked against the tiles as she walked over to the island.
I felt woefully underdressed.
She was going to make me change, wasn’t she?
I didn’t think I’d be having these thoughts at thirty, but here we were.
It wasn’t as if I lived a normal life as the future duke, was it?
“I wish everyone would stop saying that! It is not a good morning,” Grandma grouched from her spot on the other side of the kitchen.
“Oh, Evelyn, do try to smile,” Mum retorted, accepting the cup of tea from Rupert. “It’s really not the end of the world, is it? You’ll get to see your friends.”
“I don’t like those people.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I wasn’t aware you lived in my head, Anna.”
Mum put her cup of tea down and walked over to her. “Evelyn.”
“Anna,” Grandma said in a petulant tone with an equally childish expression.
