ring。 ?Embarrassingly enough; my friends at Yale all call me Lord。?
Lord。 I?d like you to meet my boyfriend; Lord。 This is my husband; Lord。 We met at Yale。 The
lord and his gorgeous wife will be vacationing on their yacht in the South of France this spring
with their perfect family before a long sojourn at their summer castle in Cornwall。 ?
?And you are??
Blair fluttered her thick; mascaraed eyelashes; awakening from her delicious daydream。 ?Blair
Cornelia Waldorf;? she trilled; sounding exactly like Audrey Hepburn inBreakfast at Tiffany?s
when she first introduces herself to her new neighbor; Paul Varjak。 ?Actually; I?m starting at Yale
this fall。?
?And I?ve just finished there。 Wa…hey!? Lord Marcus tossed his keys into his room and kicked
off his shoes in the doorway。 ?Blimey; I?m late for squash; but let?s ?? He smiled shyly。 ?Shall we
get together for a drink tonight??
Blair nodded in dumb agreement。 She could hardly believe her luck。
?See you in the lounge at seven; then。?
The lord closed his door and the concierge deposited the adjacent suite?s keys into Blair?s
hand。 ?Your bags will be here in a moment。 Is everything all right; Miss Waldorf??
?Bloody hell!? she heard the lord exclaim in his adorable accent as he crashed around in his suite。
Blair imagined him throwing his beautiful; tailor…made English clothes all over the place as he
hunted for something to wear for squash。 If she were his girlfriend; she?d color…code his shirts for
him and alphabetize his shoes according to designer so he wouldn?t have to thrash around so
much looking for things。
Of course she would。
She stepped inside her room and flopped down on the king…size bed to listen; her eyes darting
around the room as she did so; taking it all in。 It was small and shabby…chic; erring on the shabby
side; the gold accents on the curtains and bedspread and the Regency blue?patterned wallpaper the
only attempts at grandeur。 It wasn?t exactly the Plaza; but therewas a hot English lord living next
door。
Yes; yes?everything wasmore than all right。
what boarding schoolers do when they?re bored
It was already five in the afternoon by the time Jenny and her father arrived at the Croton School;
in Croton Falls; New York。 Rufus?s weekly wine and beat poetry night with his weirdo anarchist
poet cronies was starting in an hour at a speakeasy in Greenwich Village; and he was getting antsy。
Croton was only an hour and a half from the city by train; and Jenny was anxious to ditch him;
anyway; so she offered to take the train home。
?Don?t get off at 125th Street;? Rufus advised; even though the stop was closest to their
apartment。 He handed Jenny three twenty…dollar bills。 ?Go all t
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