Crushing on Royalty (The Cuttings #1) [To Be Reconstructed]

9 | Through the Fire, We're Bound

When the dowager unlocked the door, she ordered a maid to call back her grandchildren. I was still pretty shocked, feeling like I had traded my soul for something incredibly stupid, such as a Baconator, with the devil.

But I was as good as my word and I didn't want to chicken out.

I thought I'd be fine now with all of my problems erased, but no, everything just added up.

Here was my list of newfound problems:

a) I was engaged to a douchebag who had claimed he didn't know a single thing about the Marquess of Sterling, which led this to

b) he was the Marquess of Sterling, adding up to a terrible problem such as

c) Michael's grandmother was the dowager Duchess of Rossington, meaning

d) she would be my grandmother. I had no problems about this (kind of) until

e) she liked to order people about, but what horrified me the most was

f) I had no idea how to tell Grams about my sudden engagement to an English marquess -- of all people -- and

g) how would I tell this to Viv and everyone else?

The dowager and I sat in silence, sipping the tea she rang for us a few minutes ago.

And, as if everything wasn't bad enough already, Michael's grandmother said -- pretty casually, in my opinion -- leading to the list of my mounting, horrible problems was this:

h) "You'll sleep in this house adjoining Michael's boudoir."

This led me to choking so hard from just sipping my Twinings two at a time that I nearly ran out of breath, possibly shaking the house down to ashes with my wheezing and coughing.

Really, what was up with this old woman? She loved shocking people without breaking her expression, such as the straight, icy, I-have-nothing-to-do-with-this-so-why-are-you-choking? kind of look.

I was caught in the scene with Michael and Frederick entering the room in their casual clothes, staring at me with wide, curious eyes as I sat in the chair, gripping the armrest hard, coughing, and with actual tears in my eyes.

"I -- need -- wa -- ter!" I choked out.

The dowager twisted around in her seat slightly, teacup and saucer in her hands. "Would you kindly whack the girl with my cane?" she asked calmly, sipping her tea and turning back to look at me.

Frederick was about to help me (without using his grandmother's cane!), when the dowager barked, "No, Frederick, I didn't say it was you!"

"That's not important! She's choking and --"

"Quiet, boy!"

He gaped, unable to believe what he'd just heard. "You --"

"Frederick!" she chided.

As if reading her mind, Michael sidled up to me, whacking my back rather loudly and harder than was necessary.

I could tell he was enjoying this tremendously, most especially the dowager. Frederick, on the other hand, had twitching lips.

As I wheezed, thinking that my lungs would come straight out of my mouth from the jerk who was whacking my back with his big palm, I tried to slap his hand away.

"That's -- enough!" I coughed out, finally slapping Michael's hand away from me.

I breathed hard, then fell into my chair deeply, shutting my eyes. I never knew this family could be such a pain.