Page 42 of Scandal
“You think I don’t know who you are. Some washed-up Scottish nobleman forgotten by his family…”
Clearly, he had a lot of things mixed up because it wasn’t me who had been forgotten. I was the one trying to forget.
But you never forget something like this.
“I don’t like being pushed around by bullies,” I say as I take her hand and take the first step. Surprisingly, she is right there with me, perfectly in step.
“And that’s what you think your mom is? A bully?”
“She’s used to getting her own way,” I explain. “In everything that matters. The word no is foreign to her. I expect she’ll become quite familiar with it in the coming weeks if I have anything to do with it.”
Mercury laughs, but the laughter quickly fades as she asks, “Do you think they’ll ever accept me? I know this isn’t real, but for it to look believable, she should at least pretend to like me, right? Or acknowledge my existence?”
She tries to mask the pain, but I see it, concealed beneath her carefully chosen humor.
“She will,” I promise. One way or another, I will get that woman to show her some respect. “But if for some reason she doesn’t, I’m telling you right now, you don’t need it.”
“I don’t?”
I smirk. “Don’t you see how everyone is looking at you, Merc?” Her eyes go round and wide as she tries not to look too obvious, her gaze darting around the room. “Every single person in here is mesmerized by you, including me.”
She sucks in a breath.
I probably shouldn’t have said that part.
“And soon, they’ll know exactly who you are,” I say. “They’ll know how smart you are, how kind, and—”They’ll be just as infatuated with you as I am.
I stop myself before I say something stupid. Something I can’t take back.
“And what?” Mercury asks.
“And…” I swallow, trying to compose myself. “And my mum won’t have to question whether the right woman stands by my side. She’ll know. Like everyone else.”
I think I’ve mostly convinced her after a few more laps around the dance floor. When we get back to the table, she’s all smiles, and seeing two seats now empty makes me start to relax a bit.
Until I see Isobel still seated to my right.
I didn’t explicitly specify which person to swap out, but I assumed my mother understood that it should be the woman she invited to replace my date.
Everyone greets us with friendly smiles and firm nods as the dinner bell rings. I pull out Mercury’s chair and then take my own seat.
“I’m pleased to introduce my son and heir, the Viscount of Blackstone,” my father says, not bothering to wait for me to respond before he begins the introductions. “This is…” Then he rattles off a bunch of names I know I’ll forget, even though I probably should remember. Politicians, nobles, and wealthy landowners, all dripping in jewels and designer gowns, are ready to spend a fortune in the name of charity.
I donated a fortune last year without even leaving my living room. It’s not hard. It doesn’t require all of this pageantry, and that’s the part of this life I can’t stand.
It’s elitist, and in the five hundred years my family has held this title, nearly nothing has changed.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, then give my mother a meaningful glare. “This is my girlfriend, Mercury Creed.”
Isobel and the two people seated to her left, her parents, I presume, look slightly shocked but hide it well.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Isobel says first. Her words sound genuine, and I begin to wonder whether she’s as miserable about this arrangement as I am. Perhaps she’s just an unwilling pawn in her parents’ game too, and we can all laugh about this later.
“You as well.” Her reply is one hundred percent genuine, as is the compliment that follows. “I love your dress.”
“Thank you.” Isobel smiles politely, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yours is lovely as well. I seem to recall the Duchess of Wales wearing something similar a few years ago, yes?”
I glare at her, and she gives me a defiant smirk, as if she knows she’s already won.
