Chapter Twenty-Nine
MERCURY
“So life is back to normal?” Evie asks, giving me half her attention as the rest is focused on the calendar in front of her. I make a note to ask her later where she got her earrings. They’re super cute.
Shrugging, I answer, “Normal-ish, I guess? And is life ever really normal around here?” I glance around the posh sitting room with its slew of priceless antiques and paintings that could fill a small museum.
“Touché.”
“The sheriff said—”
“Chief constable,” she corrects. “This isn’t the Wild West.”
Snorting, I say. “Right. My mistake. The constable said the US authorities are bringing in Meg, Asher’s former agent, for questioning, but that all the evidence they have at this point is circumstantial.
Mostly just a lot of ranting on the internet.
Nothing specific that would tie her to the texts. ”
“But Asher thinks it’s her?”
I nod, tucking one foot under the other as I make myself a little more comfortable on the chaise.
“It makes sense. She thought she was doing Asher a favor by releasing those pictures, but instead, it ruined her career. Asher said she also had a longtime crush on him that he ignored for far too long.”
“Aye, that’ll do it.”
“The Blackstone security team has advised that we carry on as usual, though.”
She gives me a deathly stare. “Meaning I will continue to get the full cavity search every time I enter the grounds.”
Yikes. “Sorry?”
“No, you’re not. And it’s not all bad,” she says with a slight lift of her brow. “Especially when that blond bloke is on duty.” She holds out her palm. “Big hands.”
“Well, okay,” I say playfully.
“I’m assuming this means that you and Asher are together for real now?”
Based on what she heard the other night with Isobel, I doubt she’s asking. It’s more like she’s confirming what she already has in her head, but I nod my head anyway. “Yes.”
A faint smirk forms at the corner of her lips. “Good.”
“Yeah?”
She picks at an imaginary piece of lint on her floral blazer. Damn, that’s cute, too. I wonder where she got it? Maybe I should hire her as my stylist instead. “Just happy I don’t have to find a new job, is all.”
“Right.” I try not to grin. “Of course.”
“How’s your family taking it?” she asks in one of those rare moments of affection.
I shrug. “As well as can be expected. My dad said he was happy for us, but I know he’s mourning the idea of me being so far away.
My mom cried for about twenty minutes straight.
It oscillated between happy tears and sad.
When my dad tried to explain she was feeling overly emotional because of menopause, the tears then turned to pure rage. ”
“Men are so dumb.”
“You’d think after thirty-five years of marriage, he’d know better.”
“Thirty-five years?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine being with someone for three months, let alone thirty-five years.”
“I don’t know,” I say with a dreamy sigh, thinking of all the ways Asher made me come last night. “Thirty-five years doesn’t sound so bad.”
Evie rolls her eyes. “Just make sure to give me a raise when you become a countess, okay?” My eyes widen at her words, and she laughs. “Please tell me you’ve realized that before now?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Am I really going to be a countess?
“We haven’t exactly discussed marriage,” I sputter out.
“But you’re moving here, correct?”
“Yes?”
Her brow raises. “You don’t sound so sure.”
“No, I’m sure,” I reply. “I’m just—”
“Freaking out?”
“A little, yeah.”
Evie eyes me from her spot on the sofa opposite, then closes her iPad, leans back, and crosses one leg over the other. It’s the most relaxed posture I’ve ever seen her in. For anyone else, it’s like lying down, spread-eagled.
A small grin spreads on her lips as she notes my surprised look. “You do realize you’ve basically been training to take over for Theodora for months now.”
“Theoretically, I guess—”
“Not theoretically,” she argues, interrupting me. “All those etiquette classes and history lessons served a greater purpose. The countess wasn’t just preparing you for the press. She was training her successor.”
I remember the first time I met her. Such poise and elegance. But also so damn intimidating. “I don’t think I can fill her shoes,” I say, somewhat bewildered.
“Then don’t,” Evie says with a casual shrug. “Just be yourself.”
“But didn’t you just say she was training me to be her replacement?”
“No. I said she was training her successor. There’s a difference,” she says with that same amused expression. “Theodora knows you. She’d never expect you to be a copycat version of her. And frankly, I doubt you ever could be. That woman is one of a kind.”
“Ouch,” I deadpan.
She ignores me and just continues. “You and Asher are popular because you’re different. You’re a modern-day fairy tale.”
“If the handsome prince happened to be a retired rock star, sure.”
She actually rolls her eyes. “The point is, people don’t expect you to be Theodora and Stuart. So don’t be. Be different. Be better.”
I smile. “You know, you’re really good at giving advice, Evie.”
“I’m good at everything.” She states it as a fact, not a boast.
I snort. “I don’t doubt that.”
Her brow furrows. “Why would you?”
“So you really think I’ll make a good countess?” Even saying those words out loud sounds crazy. A few months ago, my sister was calling me a princess, and now my real life isn’t too far off.
“And viscountess.”
My stomach flutters. “Shit, right.”
“I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t,” she says matter-of-factly, then adds, “At first, I thought you might be a little too soft for this life, but I’ve seen how well you’ve adapted. You’re both strong and kindhearted. You will make a wonderful countess.”
“And Asher?”
“Asher was born and raised to do this,” she says instinctively. “But I believe his time away helped him. He’s very different from his father, and although he hates the fame that follows him, I think he’ll realize he can use it to his advantage and do some real good with that title of his.”
“You know,” I say, staring at her with a bit of awe. “I do think you’re right about that raise, Evie.”
She gives me a rare smile. “Twenty percent should do.”
I’m still reeling from the revelation that I might someday be a countess when my phone rings an hour later while I’m relaxing in our suite.
I have a few minutes before I need to be in the sitting room for tea with Asher, so I answer right away, especially since this particular sibling and I have been playing phone tag for a couple of days now.
And he hates to text.
“Hey, Cash,” I say warmly. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” he says gruffly. “I just had to explain to my four-year-old why her favorite aunt isn’t going to be at Sunday dinners anymore because she apparently caught feelings for a rock star.”
“He’s not a rock star anymore, and I’m Taylor’s favorite aunt?”
I can almost hear his eyes rolling in his head. “The public will always see him as the lead singer of Manic at Midnight first, an earl second—remember that,” he says very matter-of-factly. “Tay’s too sweet to have a favorite aunt, but I’m not. You’ve always been my favorite sister.”
I smile softly. “You can’t have a favorite sister, Cash. That’s like having a favorite child.”
“Yes, I fucking can. And every parent has a favorite child. They just never admit it.”
“Oh yeah? Who do you think Mom’s favorite is?”
“Easy.” He scoffs. “Hendrix. He’s got a gorgeous girlfriend, emotionally mature and wildly successful.”
“You’re successful,” I argue.
He grunts something like a “Yeah, right,” and then changes the subject. “So you’re really staying, huh?”
“Yeah, I really am. Do you think I’m being stupid?”
He sighs deeply. “Not any more than any of our other lovesick siblings. What is it, by the way, that has all of you coupling up? Is there something in the water?”
I laugh as I look at my watch. I need to get going. Moving toward the door of our suite, I ask, “Why? Scared?”
“Fuck, no,” he answers firmly. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever doing that again.”
I feel a pang of sadness for my brother. I still remember that summer when he came home, not just brokenhearted but utterly shattered. My other brothers and sisters only see an asshole, but I remember every tear that brought him to this point.
Now he’s just a remnant of the man he used to be.
Because of her.
“So you do think I’m being stupid?” I step into the hallway. Talking on the phone is probably—definitely—frowned upon, but I don’t care. I don’t get to talk to my brother enough these days, and now that I won’t be seeing him nearly enough…
Another heavy sigh. “No, Merc. That’s not what I’m saying. Do I think most people confuse love with lust? Yes. But you and Asher? I think you found the real deal.”
“Yeah? How do you know?”
He pauses before answering. “The way you look at each other,” he says. “Like you can see a lifetime together and it doesn’t scare you.”
It sounds like he’s speaking from experience.
I turn the corner toward the sitting room, still a bit early. The room is empty as I slip inside. “If you could go back and—”
“I wouldn’t change a thing,” he replies, already anticipating my question.
“Really?”
“I might be a little surlier, but Taylor is the center of my world.”
“And you’re the center of hers,” I remind him.
“Only half the time. Or at least that’s what the court documents state.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing,” he attempts to brush it off. “Nikki has just missed a few of her weeks lately.”
“That’s not like her.” She might have been a shit girlfriend to Cash, but Nikki was a great mother to Taylor.
“I don’t know. I don’t get involved in her personal life anymore, and any extra time with Tay is fine by me.”
“God, I’m going to miss that girl. Promise me you’ll bring her to visit?”
He groans. “How long is that flight?”
I let out a laugh. “Not that long.” It’s really long.
Just when I’m about to tell him about the benefits of flying first class, the door to the sitting room opens, and I turn around, expecting Asher.
But instead, I’m greeted by a security guard.
“Pardon, miss,” he says formally. It takes me a moment to recognize him. He’s blond, with fair hair and freckles. And he’s super tall, with long limbs and—
“You’ve got really big hands.”
He seems a little taken aback by my strange observation, his eyes flicking to the phone held to my ear. Instead of acknowledging what I said, he simply ignores it altogether, which appears to be the staff’s usual response whenever I do something out of the ordinary.
Which is often…
“Lord Blackstone instructed me to come fetch you for a private afternoon on the grounds.”
“Sounds like I should let you go,” Cash says. “Go be romantic and shit.”
I smirk at the deadpan way he delivers it. “Love you. Bye,” I say and end the call. I stand, smoothing out my skirt, and turn toward the security guard.
“If you’ll follow me?”
I nod, but he’s already walking out the door.
“Okay…”
He moves quickly, and I’m almost panting by the time we exit the foyer, walk down the front stairs, and reach the black sedan parked near the side of the house instead of the usual front, where the driver waits.
That’s odd.
No Land Rover today?
“Did he tell you where he’s meeting us?” I ask. Then I turn to find him right behind me. He opens the car door without a word.
“Oh!” I nervously chuckle. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
I give the inside of the car a hesitant gaze. “It’s all right.”
“No, not for that,” he says, a second before he brings a cloth to cover my face. “For this.”
I barely have a chance to fight him before everything goes black.