I laughed. The truth was that, however ‘street’ he might fail to be, Andrew would fit in. One thing being royal taught you was to be equally at home amongst anyone and everyone, and Andrew was very personable. That was something his family couldn’t take from him.
“So where did we land on the hotel?”
“We’ll make it work,” Andrew said. “I hear good things about the ‘Travel Lodge’. I mostly hear them from their own adverts, but still. Now, there’s a few bits and pieces I need to pick up from the palace, and it’s on the way, so we’ll drop by there first, before we go to your old apartment.”
“Sure.”
We headed to the palace, and I was delighted to be met by Rogers.
“Valencia,” he said in formal greeting, the corners of his mouth very nearly inflected into a smile.
“Hi, Rogers,” I said with a wide smile.
“Mr. Arlington,” Rogers greeted Andrew. Another man might have stuck to ‘Your Highness’ out of habit or politeness, but that wouldn’t have been good form, and Rogers was all about form.
“Call me Andrew, Rogers,” Andrew said.
“No, thank you,” said Rogers. “First name terms should be mutual.”
“I could call you by your first name.”
“No, thank you.”
“Do you even have a first name?” I asked. I was in oddly high spirits, and seeing the man who had helped me so much in his formal, quiet way was making me slightly giddy.
“I do, Valencia.”
“Keira.”
“No, thank you. First name terms should be mutual.”
“You’re really not going to tell us your first name?”
“Correct, Miss Valencia,” said Rogers, allowing that small concession.
“So are my things still in my room here?” Andrew asked.
Rogers shook his head. “I took the liberty of taking your things to Keira’s old apartment, just in case. It was still empty.”
“I see. Well, we’ll go and pick it up, and then I suppose we’ll try to find that hotel.”
Rogers held up a hand. “It occurred to me, Mr. Arlington, that you and Miss Valencia might not yet have settled on your plans for the future. And since neither of you is any longer in gainful employment, you might need a place to stay.”
My mouth opened in surprise. “Wait…you’re letting us stay in the apartment?”
“Precisely.”
Andrew frowned. “Rogers, you could get in serious trouble for that. The apartment is supposed to be for staff only and…”
Rogers held up a hand. He was nearly as good as the Queen with the silencing gesture. “I am aware of that, Mr. Arlington. But I am happy in taking the risk.”
I impulsively hugged Rogers. “Thank you, so much.”
“Glad to be of help, Miss.” It was a sign of how comfortable Rogers was in his chosen way of life that he slipped so easily from me being a member of his staff to me being a guest who needed to be treated as such.
“Thank you, Rogers,” Andrew stuck out a hand, which Rogers took and shook. “I wonder if in the past I’ve…perhaps I’ve not been…”
The hand again brought silence. “Merely a gesture.”
We strolled back to the car, chatting as we went.
“If I may ask,” said Rogers, as conversationally as his formal manner could manage. “What are your plans?”
“We’re going to America,” I said. “The day after tomorrow.”
“Of course,” said Rogers. “I’m sure you will be very happy there. You won’t miss your family?” This was directed at Andrew.
“I think they’ll be glad I’m gone,” Andrew replied. “I’ll generate less gossip on a different continent.”
“Families can be most…” Rogers sought the right word, “excruciating.”
“Mine certainly can.”
“I couldn’t possibly comment,” Rogers said before noticing that we’d finally reached the car. “Well, good luck, Miss Valencia.”
“Thanks, Rogers.”
“Might I have a word before you go, Mr. Arlington?”
Andrew nodded, and he and Rogers stepped away. I strained to hear what passed between them without success, but it seemed an amicable conversation and ended with the two men shaking hands once again.
They returned to the car.
“Goodbye and good luck, you two,” said Rogers.
“You’re really not going to tell us your first name?” I asked, smiling slyly.
Rogers drew a deep breath. “My first name is Lemuel.”
“Lemuel?”
“There is a P. G. Wodehouse story,” Rogers explained, “in which the name features as a joke on the man whose name it is. My father thought it would be funny to emulate that joke. He was wrong.”