Brooklyn - Taylor Swift

Part 35

"Stanley, we are going to be late. Hurry up," the overly cheery voice of Grandfather; note the sarcasm, reverberated around the opulent foyer as I descended the grand staircase, prompting the twins to roll their eyes simultaneously. I had to stifle a laugh at their synchronised disdain, knowing that any little thing could set Grandfather off right now, and this night was going to shit as it was. We don't need to piss Grandfather off on top of that.

We had been back in England for nine days, and the last three were spent here on the estate, a stint that felt like an eternity in a particularly unpleasant circle of hell.

"She's right there, Grandfather. Besides, you could've gone in a separate car, and we could've met you there. We discussed this," Mick grumbled as Teddy offered me a hand as I approached the final step, which I gladly accepted with a smile—damn stilettos.

"Winston, we've had this conversation. You three may pretend not to be Kemps all you like, but you are. So you will arrive with your family and do so with smiles on your faces," Grandad huffed, then waved off Gerald, his butler, dismissively as he walked out of the house, expecting us to follow. Unfortunately, we did. He only wants us all to arrive together so that any pictures taken of our arrival will have him in it with us.

"Remind me again why we couldn't host this year's gala in the ballroom. What's the point of having a ballroom if it doesn't get used? I think the last time it saw any action was back when Andy was still doing ballet, and you had her dance after a dinner party to show off," Teddy grumbled as the three of us struggled to fit the skirt of this ridiculous dress into the back of the limo, while Grandfather just glared at the three of us.

"Don't slouch, Harold. And the ballroom is being refurbished, that's why. Plus, Philip offered to let us use the royal wing in Windsor when I was in Balmoror, and I wasn't going to say no to the man, was I? You would know this if the three of you had come like you were supposed to, but instead, you were off galavanting around the States like common fools. Winston, stop fidgeting with your sister's dress and fix your bowtie. It's wonky," Grandfather scowled, not even looking up from the newspaper he'd made sure he had back here as the three of us slumped into our seats.

The man had a unique talent for making the three of us feel like naughty toddlers twenty-four-seven. Honestly, I despised the silence, and the one in the back of this limo was anything but comfortable, but I would take it over listening to Grandfather berating us any day.

"Winston, please refrain from pursuing any more princesses. If I have to endure another phone call with Andrew because of you, I'll have you back on the estate full-time, learning what it takes to be a Duke. No more playing pretend musician for you, do you understand? Stanley, feel free actually to socialise. I have had quite a few requests of very eligible young men who would all love for you to marry them, and that isn't going to happen if you go and sulk in a corner with the riff-raff you call friends," Grandfather spoke up again after half an hour.

Looks like I spoke too soon about the silence.

"Now, I know James is coming tonight, Harold, but please try not to be... whatever it is you two are. If anyone asks, he's an associate, and you know him through his whiskey business, which is supplying the whiskey for tonight. Am I clear?" He continued without giving Mick a chance to reply about steering clear of princesses or me time to object venomously to the prospect of marrying some stuffy British aristocrat.

However, in all honesty, I didn't think that would be an issue for Mick because all the princesses seemed to have had enough of him, and after one conversation with me, no man at this ball would want to marry me. I'll make sure of that.

"We are married, Grandfather. And I think the word you're looking for is 'gay.' It's okay. You can say the word. It's not like saying 'Bloody Mary' or 'Beetlejuice.' Saying the word has no repercussions," Teddy grumbled, though he said it under his breath. Fortunately, Grandfather's hearing had deteriorated with his age, so he didn't hear the snarky remark. Mick and I did, though, which had both of us biting back laughs, not wanting to give the grumpy old gitt anymore of a reason to bitch at us.