Page 35 of Valentine Nook
“Right, Your Grace, we’re settled on the bunting, and we’ve got the ribbons for the lampposts. Anything else you want?”
That’s the third time Eddie’s called Lando something other than his name. Or the name Clemmie introduced him as, and I’m a little confused. What I should do is hold my tongue or walk off in search of my coffee and donut. But I don’t, obviously.
“What did you call him?”
“Who?”
My eyes slide toward Lando. “Um?—”
Eddie’s brows crease together, and his thick mustachedroops even lower because I’m obviously making no sense. “His Grace?”
“Yes,that. I thought your name was Lando.”
Lando’s—or whatever his name is—cheeks redden. “It is.”
“Then—” I look at Eddie for some explanation. I shouldn’t have asked. This is one of those complicated English things where everything is called something different.
Eddie nods at Lando. “His Grace ’ere, is the Duke of Oxfordshire. You address him as Your Grace. Same way you and me are like mister or missus. Or whatever they say in America.”
Duke.
I’m normally much smarter than the last week or so would suggest. Maybe if I’d read Ashley’s notes, I’d already know this, but I should have figured it out the day I spent at the pool with Clemmie. I’ve watchedDownton Abbey. No regular person lives in a palace-sized house.
Addresshim? “Am I supposed to call you that?Grace?”
Next to me, Eddie snorts, and the ends of his mustache twitch while Lando looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. It’s odd because even the few times I met him, he doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to be uncomfortable in any situation. His self-assuredness is both incredibly alluring and infuriating.
“No, you may call me Lando,” he replies eventually.
“Lando,” I repeat.
“It’s short for Orlando.”
I remember enough of my schooling that I knowOrlandohas to come from Shakespeare rather than just being a name or a destination. He totally fits that broody, handsome sulky hero thing he has going on.
Lando is the guy I’ve met. The moody one.
So this uncomfortable, almost bashful expression he’s wearing right now looks all wrong, and I hate it.
Therefore, I’m going to put things right.
“Orlando? Like Disney World?”
Lando’s thick brows drop, giving me the exact reaction I was hoping for.
Eddie barks out a laugh and slaps his round belly. “She got you there, Your Grace.”
“Hey, your name isHoliday,” Lando shoots back, ignoring him. “Or how you Americans like to say—vacation?”
His eyes narrow, and I’m guessing he expects me to get all offended and storm off. But Eddie’s chuckling next to me, and it’s all I can do to stop my own laughter from escaping, especially asOrlando’sgone back to glaring at me.
“That’s a terrible American accent.”
Lando opens his mouth, only to close it again and drop his head in defeat, but not before I catch the curve of a smile. “You’re right, it is. I’m sorry. I’ll leave the acting to you.”
“My English accent isn’t much better,” I concede. “I try my hardest, but my dialect coach would tell me Ioverpronounce my consonants.”
“Sounds okay to me.”
