Page 27 of Scandal
It’s not lost on me that the earl has yet to introduce himself. I doubt, given all the manners and decorum he’s acquired over the years, it’s not a mere oversight.
“Yes, of course. Such a…uniquename. How could I forget?”
This is usually the part of the conversation where I explain my father’s love of music and how all my siblings have unique names because of it.
But I somehow don’t think he’ll appreciate that story.
So I just smile. Or try to.
He bids us farewell with a halfhearted wave, and I turn to Asher, recalling his earlier comment about us being late. “They can be more insufferable than this?”
A smirk tugs at his lips. “If you can imagine, yes.”
“I really can’t, no.”
“Just be glad my mother isn’t trying to set me up with?—”
“Asher! There you are.” A woman about my mother’s age with chocolate brown hair and bright blue eyes hurries over to us. She’s wearing an elegant knee-length sapphire-blue dress with long lace sleeves and a fitted waist.
“Countess.”
She loops an arm around his and tries to give him a little tug. He doesn’t budge. “There’s someone I would love to introduce you to. Her family has a summer home near here. She went to St. Andrews as well?—”
“I didn’t go to St. Andrews.”
I shift from one foot to the other. This is starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. The woman hasn’t even looked at me once. It’s like I’m invisible.
Asher just looks extremely annoyed.
“Anyhow, she’s a scientist of some sort now?—”
“Mother—”
“But I doubt she plans on keeping all that up when she?—”
“Mother.”
The countess looks exasperated. “What is it?”
“I’m not interested in meeting anyone tonight, or any other night, for that matter,” he says, with far more respect than she deserves. “But I’d be more than happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, Mercury.”
I know it’s not real, but every time he introduces me as his girlfriend, I get a little thrill. My stomach flips, and my heart races just from the thought of being…his.
His mother turns her head and looks at me for the first time. I feel like I’m being examined under a microscope. The elegant designer dress I’m wearing suddenly feels cheap and tacky. I worry the makeup I spent forever applying in front of the crappy bathroom mirror is too much. I run a nervous hand over my long waves, wondering whether I should have pinned them back.
“Mercury, this is my mother, the Countess of Dunloch.”
“It’s so nice to meet—” I start to say before his mother abruptly cuts me off.
“Can I speak with you?” she says, glaring at her son. “Alone?”
“Anything you need to say, you can say in front of her.”
His mother looks around, feigning a smile. “I must insist.”
Nervously, I squeeze his hand. “It’s okay, Ash. Really.”
The expression on his face is torn. Either he really doesn’t want to leave me alone, or he doesn’t want to be alone with her.
