Reluctantly Royal (23 page)

“Good morning.” He smiled at me. I could see why Sam was so head over heels in love with the man. He was gorgeous and sweet. Not a normal combination.

“Good morning.” I nodded my head at him.

“I thought I’d see if you two would like some company today. I’d be happy to lend my support.”

“We’ve got it covered.” Max smacked his brother’s back. “Why don’t you try taking a day off?”

“You’re sure?” Alex frowned. “I know how much you hate the royal duties. I could play the bad cop. I don’t get to do it that often. Sam is usually the bad cop.”

“I’ve got this.” Max looked at his brother, and something passed between them. Alex just nodded his head as if he understood something I hadn’t heard.

“Okay then. I’ll be here relaxing, if you need anything.” Alex opened the car door for us.

Max held my hand to help me slide into the seat. It was one of those gentlemanly gestures that wasn’t really necessary, but made a girl feel special. He didn’t get in right away; instead Alex leaned forward and whispered to him quietly before slapping his back. Max nodded his head and then climbed into the car.

“Brotherly advice?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Just reminding me of something.” He looked over at me with a small smile, but I could see the stress etched in the corners of his eyes.

“Hm.” If he wasn’t going to elaborate, I wasn’t going to ask. After all, it really wasn’t any of my business what passed between the brothers. Instead I straightened my pants and opened my purse to dig out my phone.

There were messages from my director at school, but I couldn’t really answer them yet. I had no idea what was going to happen, not until this afternoon. Rachel had texted me to let me know that she and the lawyer were on the way to the estate. I did reply to her to let her know that we were on our way as well.

Talking was kept to a minimum, which I appreciated. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy small talk or a good conversation; I just didn’t have the energy to focus on anything other than the reading of the will. It was like all of the worry and anxiety I’d been keeping bottled up had drained me dry.

Max reached out at one point and wrapped his fingers around mine, but didn’t try to talk to me. Instead he played on his phone and let me stare out the window.

I tried to work out the appropriate response for how my father would react to different outcomes of the will. Would he lose his shit? Would he surprise me and stay calm? Would he gloat and kick me out of the house? Was I going to lose my cool?

Sighing, I leaned my head against the glass and closed my eyes. Max had been right. There was no point in worrying. What happened, happened, and it was out of my hands. The only person I could be responsible for today was myself.

I was sweating by the time we’d gotten through the gates and I was glad I’d decided to wear dark colors. We pulled up to the house, my heart beating as if I’d run a marathon. I felt like I was about to walk into a house of doom.

Max was out of his seat and opening my door before I realized the car had come to a complete stop. His cool fingers laced with mine as we walked up the steps, and I was grateful that he didn’t say anything about my sweaty palms. The butler, Gerard, opened the doors for us as we reached the top, and motioned for us to come inside.

“Good morning, Lady Meredith, Prince Maxwell.” He bowed his head.

“How is he?” I lowered my voice and took a step closer to Gerard.

“He is . . . better than usual, but not his best.” Gerard frowned.

“Well, can’t ask for much more than that. Where are they?” I straightened my shirt.

“The front parlor, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Gerard.” I looked back at Max. “Let’s do this.”

Stepping forward, I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and lifted my chin. If I was going into this blind, I was going to do it with confidence. Or at least a reasonable facsimile of confidence. I was an actress after all.

My father was sitting in a large wingback chair near the fireplace. The glass tumbler held loosely in his fingers was half empty. Rachel and an elderly man in an expensive suit stood up from their seat on the couch and bobbed a bow and curtsy.

“Your Highness, my lady, I am Daniel LeFave. I handle most of the legal matters for Her Majesty.” The man held his hand out to shake. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know this has been a difficult time.”

“Thank you.” I shook his hand before taking one of the open seats across from the lawyer.

“Okay then. Since we’re all here, let’s get started.” The old man clapped his hands together and smiled. “Prince Maxwell, I assume that you are here in an official position as your mother’s witness?”

“Yes.” He moved so that he was standing just behind my chair, and my father snorted.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a witness? Someone who watched my old man lose his mind?” My father’s voice was scratchy and annoyed.

“Yes, sir.” Gerard closed the door and moved to the corner of the room. “I am present.”

“The butler.” My father chuckled darkly into his drink.

“Thank you, Gerard.” I looked at the man who had done so much to take care of our family. He nodded his head before looking back at the lawyer.

“Okay, there is a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo, but if you’d like, I can cut straight to the meat of things.” He opened his folder of papers and pulled out a piece of Thysmer letterhead. “The late Duke of Thysmer wrote this out himself, which I then translated for him into the proper legal form.”

He passed me the paper, but before I could get a good look at it, my father was across the room and snatched it out of my hands.

“I’ll take that.” He set his empty tumbler on the table and scanned the paper quickly.

I watched as his face turned pale and then bloodred. My heart managed to lodge itself in my throat as I watched the veins in his neck strain against his skin. The paper shook in his hands as he looked up at me with furious eyes.

“As you can see, your father left very specific instructions.” Mr. LeFave clasped his hands in his lap, his eyes trained on my father.

Max placed a hand on my shoulder and stepped around the chair as if he were going to shield me from my father’s anger.

“The queen accepted his terms and has agreed to them,” Rachel said quietly.

“How can he do this?” My father turned slowly to look at the woman on the couch. “He can’t do this.”

“What is he doing?” I licked my lips and scooted forward on the chair. “What are you talking about?”

“Basically, your grandfather has divided the title between the two of you, but with conditions.” Mr. LeFave explained. “For your father to retain any of what has been left to him, he must successfully complete a course of addiction rehabilitation.”

Every cell in my body froze. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing as I stared at the lawyer across from me. In one fell swoop, my grandfather had simultaneously validated my worry about my father and then turned around and ripped my dream out from under me. How could I be a performer and a duchess?

“She can’t just take my title away because I don’t go to rehab! That’s ridiculous.” Spittle flew from my father’s mouth. “I don’t need rehab. That’s rubbish.”

“We could schedule a consultation with a specialist. They could evaluate you and determine if you needed help or not.” Rachel kept her voice cool and pleasant.

Everyone in the room was so calm. Very calm. Except for the vibrating exposed nerve that was my father.

“You expect me to trust a specialist you pick? This is some kind of ploy to take away what is rightfully mine.” He turned his glare on me. “You’re behind this, aren’t you? You’ve been trying to push me out of the way for a long time.”

“I’ve been covering for you for a long time.” Something inside my chest snapped and my own rage boiled to the surface. I stood up and clenched my fists at my sides. “You see nothing but yourself, what’s best for you! Granddad must have realized that you would hurt this town and our family. You think I want to stay here and babysit your drunk ass? Listen to you bitch and moan and abuse me or the staff? I haven’t been trying to push you out; I’ve been trying to escape you.”

My father stood there, fury running rampant across his face. The letter in his hand crinkled as his hands shook.

“We haven’t gone over everything,” Mr. LeFave offered. “The financial settlement is not based on your sobriety. Excepting the money from taxes that is used for the township, the family inheritance has been divided between Arthur, Meredith, and young Marty.”

“I’ve still got my money?” Arthur turned and looked at the lawyer.

“Yes, sir. However, if you do not complete rehab or if you begin drinking again, you lose any rights to future moneys earned by your family. You will only receive a percentage of what is currently held in the family accounts.” He flipped through papers in his folder and laid it on the table.

I glanced down briefly at the paper and then back at my father. I wasn’t worried about how much money had been left to me. My largest concern at this moment was my father.

“What if she doesn’t want to be Duchess of Thysmer?” My father’s lip curled. “What if something happens to her? What then?”

The blood in my veins froze as I stared at the man in front of me. I’d always accepted that my father hated me. But did he hate me enough to try and kill me? For a title he seemed to loathe?

“Something happens to her?” Max’s deep voice cut through the room. “What do you mean?”

“What are you worried about?” Dad sneered at Max.

“You wouldn’t be the first person to try to gain a title by removing someone else from the picture.”

“Grow up, boy. If I was going to kill my daughter I sure as hell wouldn’t suggest it.” My father shook his head and walked back over to the cabinet to replenish his scotch. “I told you she’s using you. Now she has you all riled up because she’s been shacked up with you for a few days.”

“Do not speak about Meredith in such a disrespectful manner.” The words snapped out of Max.

“Stop it.” I growled the words at my father. “I am not using Max.”

“Then why is he here following you around like a puppy?” He snorted. “That’s what your mother did. Got me hooked with a few tumbles in the sheets. Then dumped you on me and ran off.”

“Father,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I wish I wasn’t surprised that he was airing our dirty laundry.

“Embarrassed?” He laughed and swallowed what he had poured in one gulp. “You’re just like your mother.”

“Let’s all take a seat,” Rachel spoke up. “Wills are never a pleasant thing to deal with, and this one is a bit tougher than usual.”

“I want you all out of my house.” My father slammed his glass down on the table. “Now.”

“Technically, the house belongs to both of you. Unless you refuse rehab. Then it goes directly to Meredith and her son.” The lawyer took on a stern tone. “I’m here by the crown’s orders and will not leave until I have finished my job. Until you are sober and a functioning part of society, you will not be taking over any control of the current estate.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” Standing up straighter, with only the slightest hint of a bobble, he straightened his jacket. “I’ll go.”

“We need to finish the will. There are things to discuss about personal artifacts, your father’s dwelling in Germany, the family heirlooms.” The lawyer stood up.

“I’m not entitled to any of it, remember? Unless I let you people make me into someone I’m not.” My father glared at me. “Let the bitch have it. I know how to survive without a title. I won’t live under the thumb of an idiotic queen and the mentally unstable ramblings of my old man.”

I reached out and grabbed Max’s arm when he took a step forward. His entire body was tense, even his jaw was clenched in anger.

“You would call your daughter a bitch and the queen—who granted your family lands back and bestowed God knows how much money on your family—an idiot.” Max’s arm shook under my touch. “You don’t deserve any of it. Not the house, the title, or the money. But most of all, you don’t deserve your daughter.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” My father sneered as he walked across the room. “It’s all going to my little bitch.”

I wasn’t fast enough to stop him, even if I’d been strong enough. Every time my father had called me a bitch had been a stab in the gut, slowing my reflexes. Max was across the room in a heartbeat, grabbing my father’s lapels with his fists and slamming him against the wall.

“Apologize,” Max roared.

When my father started to laugh, Max pulled him away from the wall, only to slam him back against it.

“That is an order.” He leaned close to my father and lowered his voice. “You will apologize to Meredith now.”

My father stopped laughing and met my eyes over Max’s shoulder. I put a hand to my mouth, my composure completely wrecked. Never had I been more mortified or hurt by the way my father behaved. And yet, on the other side of that coin was Max demanding I be treated with respect. It was like looking at the yin and yang of manhood. They were each other’s opposites in every way.

No wonder I loved him so much. How could I not? My prince that had charged in to save me and was now protecting my virtue.

“Let him go, Max.” I cleared my throat. Stepping forward, I put a hand on his shoulder.

“He needs to apologize to you.” His body could have been carved from stone.

“I don’t need him to.” I met my father’s eyes. If anyone knew how to fight fire with fire, it was me. “He’d have to mean something to me for it to have hurt.”

Something in my father’s eyes shifted as if my words had hit him harder than I would have thought possible. Even when Max let go of him and he slid to the ground, his blurry eyes stayed focused on mine. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought that I’d wounded him with my words.

Max took a step back and my father got up and adjusted his jacket before walking swiftly out of the room. Silence rang through the room until Max turned around and looked down into my eyes.

“God help me, Meredith. If he hurts you one more time I’m not accountable for my actions.” He cupped my chin and tilted my face up toward his. “I can’t stand seeing the pain in your eyes. It rips me to the bone.”