Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
ASHER
As I try to plan a “lesson in fun” for Mercury, I have come to the conclusion that I am, in fact, quite a bore.
You’re a world-famous rock star, Asher. You should be the life of the party!
But as it turns out, when fame becomes too intense, and you isolate yourself from the world, you end up quite the opposite. I don’t think I’ve truly had fun in years.
Well, not since Merc showed up.
And that’s what’s bothering me. This woman—this radiant, clever woman—doesn’t see herself the way I do. She doesn’t realize she’s perfect just the way she is. She doesn’t need lessons on how to have fun. She’s already the life of the party, as far as I’m concerned.
But if this is what she wants, I’ll gladly give it to her. Regardless of what she says, I do feel indebted to her for what she’s doing. Having her by my side makes this whole nightmare bearable.
Having her by my side makes everything better.
Leaning back in the chair, I toss my phone on the table and glance at Mac, who’s been silently writing notes for next week’s schedule now that he’s back to working for me full-time.
“So what do the kids do for fun these days?” I say, doing my best American accent.
Mac raises an eyebrow at me. “If I may be so bold, my lord,” he says with a slight smirk. “Your accent has already suffered enough from your time away. Let’s not tarnish it any further, shall we?”
I chuckle. “Mercury likes it well enough still.”
“She’s American,” he says, as if that’s all the explanation needed. “As for your question, if you need assistance coming up with fun activities for you and Miss Creed to participate in, I’d be happy to help.”
My head lolls back in frustration, and I feel even more like a tosser.
“I can think of plenty of things to do, Mac. That’s not the problem.
” I’ve considered taking her on an aerial tour of the Isle of Skye or hiking to a remote stone circle I love.
I even briefly considered taking her to the British Library so she could see racy love letters Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boyelyn.
But it all seemed a little showy and perhaps a bit touristy, and the last one was downright morbid, considering how it all turned out for Anne in the end.
While I’m sure she would have enjoyed all those things, none of them feels right. Which is why I am sitting here in the middle of my afternoon planning meeting, feeling defeated enough that I’ve asked my sixty-five-year-old valet for assistance.
“She wants to feel spontaneous,” I say, tapping the back of my pen on the table. “Adventurous.”
“Now I may be an old coot, but I’ve always been under the impression that one cannot plan spontaneity.”
“I know, but how can we be spontaneous when we can’t leave the grounds without an entire security team?”
His brow arches. “Who said you have to leave the grounds?”
Once the idea comes together, it doesn’t take long to prepare everything. Since it’s already afternoon, I take advantage of the timing and go to the sitting room to meet Mercury for tea.
Except we’re not having tea today.
When I open the double doors, I find her sitting on the velvet sofa, one leg tucked behind the other.
In her pale-yellow dress and cream cardigan, she looks like a proper lady.
She’s stunning in it, but the sight of it makes me long for those simple days in the cottage when she would bury herself in her hoodie and read all day.
“Hey,” I greet her, walking over to take the seat next to her.
“Hi.” She smiles as her gaze sweeps over me. I like her eyes on me. “How has your day been?”
“Long,” I admit. My days aren’t much different from Merc’s. I’ve been away for so long that my mother is also having me brush up on etiquette lessons and decorum. But I also am shadowing my father when he visits local businesses, and I stand in on important meetings.
Today, I argued with my mother about an interview she scheduled. She wants Mercury and me to sit down with a reporter and do a tell-all. I told her no. She reminded me that I promised to be cooperative. So I caved. But Mercury doesn’t need to know about any of that right now. “You?”
“Same. Did you know your great-great-great-grandfather was the Lord Chancellor to Queen Victoria?”
“I did know that,” I reply with an amused smirk.
She’s been sharing fun facts like this since she started her “history lessons” with the tutor my mother hired.
Most of them I already know, but some are new to me, and I enjoy seeing how animated she gets when she shares what she’s learned.
“My father loves to bring that up as often as he can and to as many people as he can.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
Because that’s what our family is good at. Remembering the achievements and forgetting the failures…
I clear my throat. “So I have something different planned for today.”
Her gaze turns mischievous. “You’re going…” she says, her palm falling dramatically onto her chest. “Off schedule?”
“No.” I offer her my hand. “We are.”
She slowly looks from one side of the room to the other, as if checking to make sure the coast is clear, then slides her hand into mine. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace fun,” is all I tell her.
“Wait.” Her eyes go wide. “Is this—are we?”
“Having a little lesson of our own?” I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Well, it entirely depends on whether I can get you to leave this room,” I say with a grin. Her cheeks turn red. “Come on! No one is going to miss us for a few hours. Not even your assistant, I promise.”
They will absolutely notice, especially her assistant, but I don’t care.
I pull her toward the front door, her laughter warming my spirit with each step. When we step outside, I walk her to the Land Rover and stop. “I wanted this to be spontaneous, so I came up with something on the fly. That’s why we’re staying on the grounds. It’s safer.”
“Okay.” She smiles, not appearing to be disappointed in the least that we’re not doing something more extravagant.
“But part of being spontaneous is making choices, and if I make them, I think we’re missing the point. So I’m giving you a couple of options, and you’re going to decide what we do today.”
Her eyes are bright and full of excitement. “What are they?”
“First option is driving lessons. I’ll teach you how to drive on the right side of the road in a car of your choosing. My family has several, including an Aston Martin.”
“Fancy.”
“Very,” I agree. I don’t think she’ll pick that one, but I threw it together just in case because the next one is slightly more…risky.
“What else?”
I feel heat start to rise up the back of my collar. “We drive to the small loch on the other side of the estate and have a picnic.” I point to the small backpack filled with cheese, fruit, and wine the chef prepared for me. “And we go swimming.”
“It’s not exactly summer weather today.”
I shrug. “It’s warm enough, and I brought plenty of towels.”
“Did you happen to bring a swimsuit for me? Because I didn’t pack one,” she asks.
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?”