Page 61 of Scandal
I tilt my head, giving her a roguish grin. “No.”
She said she wanted to be spontaneous. What’s more impulsive than skinny-dipping in a freezing cold loch?
“All right. Let’s go swimming,” she replies, surprising the hell out of me as she tosses a flirty smile over her shoulder. “But I still get to drive.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Really?” Her brow quirks.
“Well, it is Mercury’s Day of Fun, which is an unofficial holiday around here, so yes, whatever you want.”
This is so dangerous. Her and me, alone with no rules, no limits. But isn’t that the definition of spontaneity? Tossing plans and logic out the window and just doing what feels right?
A satisfied smile spreads across her face as I hand her the keys and walk to the Land Rover’s passenger side. “I’ll keep that in mind for later,” she says as we both jump in and she revs the engine.
“Just drive safely so I’m still around later.”
She snorts, then hits the gas pedal with a little too much enthusiasm. “Shit! My bad!” she yells out the window to the groundskeeper, who is now staring at her with wide eyes.
My shoulders are shaking, and I’m snickering under my breath, and the look she gives me is scathing. Then it melts into a laugh, and she rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you were perfect the first time you drove a car in the US, right?”
I shrug. “Can’t help it if I’m good at everything.”
“Everything?” she says with a lifted brow.
“Everything.”
Mercury manages not to hit anything or anyone as she slowly accelerates and drives away from the house toward the entrance. “Turn here,” I instruct her when we reach the fork in the road that either leads to the gate or deeper into the estate.
“I can’t get over how much land you have,” she says, adapting quickly to the road and staying on the right side of the car. But I shouldn’t be surprised. There never seems to be a challenge Mercury can’t face and conquer, even if she’s scared.
I guess we’re alike in that way.
Or we were, until I quit and ran away from everything.
“We used to have more,” I say, enjoying the view for once. Daffodils dot the road, and the trees are lush and green. I’m so used to being the driver that I rarely get more than a glimpse of the estate as I drive by. “And honestly, it still feels like too much.But my parents are traditional and feel that too many families have given up on their ancestral homes and land.”
“Isn’t it incredibly expensive?”
“It is. And my family is fortunate to be among the few still able to sustain it, but for others, it’s not that simple. Entrusting their homes to a preservation society or turning them into resorts or wedding venues is how other families keep the walls from caving in. It’s just another way of saving that precious history, and I respect that, because sometimes you have to adapt.”
“Do you wish your parents would do something similar?”
“Make Blackstone House into a tourist attraction?”
She nods, and I point to the off-the-beaten-path up ahead. “Sometimes,” I answer. “But it wouldn’t change anything. I’d still be me, heir to Dunloch. I’d still be expected to perform the duties required of me.”
“Just without the fancy house.”
“And the cottage, don’t forget about that.”
She snickers. “How could I forget about our first home?”
Our first home.Why do those three words make my stomach flip upside down?
“Just up here,” I say, guiding her to the turnoff. It’s a bit hidden and overgrown. Mac likes to fish out here, which is the only reason the path still exists. My parents would have forgotten about it altogether, since their main focus has been maintaining the land and gardens that surround the estate for years now.Must put the money where people will see it.
Back when my grandfather was the earl, we had livestock and horses. Sheep and cattle roamed the land. Staff grew and harvested vegetables and grain. He invited the villagers up to the house every year for St. Andrew’s Day for a big feast and celebration.
