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

9 | Through the Fire, We're Bound

"Jerk," I mumbled, referring to Michael.

"Now, now, Keller," the dowager scolded, blowing her tea gently. "Be nice."

I stomped my foot, frustrated. "But you said I'm going to sleep here adjoining Michael's room!" I wailed, burying my face in my hands.

She ignored my comment. "A lady does not stomp her foot like a spoiled little girl, and she most certainly does not complain excessively."

Frederick started combusting with laughter, the fiend. Michael, on the other hand, was, miraculously, on my side.

"What?" he exclaimed, marching toward his grandmother who only glowered at him. "She can't stay here! This is my house. My house, my rules."

"I am your grandmother. I have little life left in this world..." she murmured, making Michael snort. "I only wish to see my grandson and his affianced bride sleep near each other's rooms. Is that so hard?" she whispered brokenly, which, really, ruined the whole effect when she ate a biscuit or two.

But she recovered that by saying, "My nerves, you know. Biscuits always do calm me."

"No," Michael said, rolling his eyes, "playing solitaire and drinking your madeira calms you, along with barking commands at people."

Frederick puffed his cheeks, shaking his head as he tried desperately to contain his laughter from exploding again.

"Cease, Frederick!" the dowager snapped.

He gaped. "I didn't --"

"Frederick Anthony Cotswold Cutting Kneap, zip your face."

Frederick stopped, staring at her with furrowed brows. "Grandmama, did you just tell me to zip my face?"

Michael couldn't help but shake with mirth, while I pulled myself together.

"Indeed, I did," she bit off.

Frederick shook his head, then glanced at his watch. "I ought go," he announced. "I remember Jerome is waiting for me at Seven."

"It's 10:30 PM, Frederick," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Hmmph," the dowager said with a sniff. "And here I thought you'll accompany your grandmama for tea. Shame on you, boy."

Frederick only grinned and kissed her on the cheek. He wished me good luck with Michael, which only made my fiancé and me groan at each other like ferocious wolves that hadn't eaten for three days straight.

He quickly took his phone from the table where he left it while his grandmother and I had been talking, then he was off.

"What did he mean, Seven?" I asked.

"It's Frederick's club," Michael answered. "Well, he's a partner." I was still not used to his accent. It was so weird because I wasn't accustomed to it. "Haven't heard of it? Most of the students at our school go there with their fake IDs."

I stared at Michael, unable to believe that he was talking to me, civilly. Then it hit me.

"That hit club downtown?" I gasped. "He owns that?"

He shrugged. "Partly. But no one from outside the family knows it's his. He has no title like me, but he's made a lot of money on his own -- damn lucky sod," he said under his breath.

I blinked. He was -- sort of, I thought -- jealous of Frederick because his cousin was a free man. He didn't have a title, a father who threatened to disinherit him; and didn't have to hide in America and act all normal -- because Frederick was normal.