Reluctantly Royal (24 page)

My breath caught in my throat and I struggled to process what I saw in his eyes. His thumb moved over my cheek and wiped away a tear I hadn’t realized I had shed. Was I crying because of my father? No.

I was crying because I loved this man—this prince who would go to war for me.

“Perhaps we should come back later.” Rachel stood up and clasped her hands in front of her.

“No.” Max kept his eyes trained on mine. “Meredith has been stuck in limbo for long enough. Let her know what has been laid on her shoulders.”

“Very well.” Rachel sat down next to the lawyer and motioned for him to continue.

“For the majority of the remaining things to be sorted out, they go to you. All of the family jewels are to stay with the estate, excepting pieces that may be handed down to family members that marry. Much of this stuff is the normal, mandated conditions of a duchy.” His words began to blend together and I had to focus as he explained the details of the arrangement.

“For now, my lady, you are the acting head of the Thysmer family.” Rachel took her glasses off and looked at me with compassion-filled eyes. “I realize that this is not necessarily the ideal situation, but until your father is sober and able to assist in the duties, it falls on your shoulders.”

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the right words. Max put a hand on my shoulder, offering his support. Rachel didn’t say anything, just waited for me to absorb what had happened.

“I understand.” Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and went to that quiet zone I used for performances. It was hard to reach today with so much swirling in my mind.

“She’ll need help.” Max’s voice was quiet.

“I actually have a solution, if she’s open to it.” Rachel looked at me. “I’d like to offer my services as your assistant.”

“My assistant?” My eyebrows furrowed together.

“Your grandfather refused one. As I understand it, they made him uncomfortable, but I could help you shoulder some of the responsibilities you’re facing.” She leaned forward and picked up a teacup. “I’m not sure that I would be able to cover for you being gone for whole semesters in England, but perhaps we can figure something else out.”

“You would do that for me?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Rachel nodded her head. ‘I’ve got a few good years left in me. And I’m quite fond of Thysmer . . . and you.”

“I would be honored.” I offered her a smile. “I think I’m going to need some help.”

There was a sharp knock on the door frame.

“My lady.” Gerard stepped into the room. He must have followed my father, but I hadn’t noticed. Too wrapped up in Max’s eyes. “I thought you should know that your father has left in the sedan.”

“What?” I looked around the room, my eyes falling on the glass tumbler and empty container of scotch. “Where did he go?”

“Toward town, my lady.”

“Oh God.” Fear and panic slammed into my chest and I shot out of my seat. “He didn’t have a driver?”

“No, ma’am. I tried to stop him, but he wasn’t willing to listen to me.”

I looked over at the butler and noticed the growing bruise under his left eye.

“Jesus, Gerard. I’m so sorry.” I reached out and tilted his face. “Go put some ice on that.”

“It can wait, ma’am.” He stood up straight.

“I’m calling the authorities.” Max pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He could hurt somebody.”

Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I was moving before I realized. Grabbing the keys from a hook near the door, I ran out to the driveway.

“Meredith!” Max followed closely on my heels and grabbed my arm.

“I have to go after him.” I looked at Max. “I’m not going to let him kill someone.”

He looked at me, his phone still tucked to his ear.

“Fine, but I’m driving.”

I handed him the key and jumped into the old work truck that was parked out front. Max said a few quick sentences as he climbed into the driver’s seat before throwing the phone down on the bench between us.

His bodyguard ran up to the window as Max threw the truck in reverse.

Max stuck his head out of the open window and told him to follow us.

I sat back in the seat, gripping the door handle as Max sped down the driveway in pursuit of my father.

Silently I prayed that my father wouldn’t hurt anyone.

SIXTEEN

T
HE ROADS WERE
wet from an earlier shower and the old truck didn’t have much get up and go, but I made the best of what I had.

Meredith sat next to me, her face a pale mask of nerves. Her knuckles gripping the door were white. She chewed on her bottom lip as she stared out at the road.

“Where would he go?” I asked as we rounded a bend on the curvy road.

“I’m not sure.” Letting go of the door, she wiped her palms on her pants legs. “The local pub, maybe.”

“Then we’ll try there.” We hit a pothole full of water and sent a wave of it crashing into the foliage along the road. “The police are looking for him.”

“God, I hope he doesn’t hurt anyone.” She shook her head, and I didn’t think she realized that she was rocking in her seat.

I didn’t say anything. There was no way to make her feel better until we had the old man accounted for. At another curve in the road was what looked like fresh tire marks, suggesting that a car had slid, but no car was visible.

We were almost to town when the first of the wreckage caught my attention. There was glass strewn across the road and I slowed the truck and pulled over into the grass.

Just the rear end of the sedan was visible from where it was stuck among the trees. It must’ve rolled because it was upside down, the undercarriage exposed to the sky.

“Oh my God.” Meredith threw herself against the old truck door, but it didn’t open at first. She hit it with her hand several times before almost falling out onto the wet grass.

“Meredith!” I climbed out of my seat and ran after her. The last thing I wanted was for her to find her father dead.

“Dad!” She hollered as she slid down the slope and into weeds near the trees. “Daddy!”

“Meredith!” I slid down the knoll on my side, just barely catching her before she could get to the car. “Stop!”

“He’s in there!” She fought against my arms.

“Let me go look.” I turned her to face me. “Let me look, Meredith. Go get my phone and call the police.”

“Let me go!” She wiggled in my arms. “He might need us!”

I looked down into her eyes and let out a ragged breath before letting go. She turned and ran for the car, falling to her knees near the wreckage.

“Dad?”

I knelt down next to her and peered into the torn-up vehicle. He was hanging from his seat by his seat belt, but there was a large gash on his forehead.

“Daddy?” Meredith’s voice sent chills over my body. There was so much pain in that one word that my heart almost broke in half.

“Let me look at him.” I pushed her shoulder gently so that I could get a better look. He was breathing, but the cut on his head was bleeding profusely.

“Charles!” I hollered for my bodyguard.

“Here, sir.” I could hear him sliding down the slope. “I’ve contacted the authorities.”

“Come take a look.” I wasn’t sure if we should move him or not. On one hand he could have a broken neck or back, and on the other I wasn’t sure that we should leave him hanging upside down.

Charles slid around to the other side of the car and knelt down to peer through the broken windshield.

“We need to put a compress on his head,” Charles’s gruff voice instructed.

I pulled my jacket off and balled it up before placing it against Arthur’s head.

“Should we move him?” I asked.

“No!” Meredith shook her head vehemently. “We don’t know if anything is broken.”

“She’s right. I don’t smell any gas or I’d say we need to pull him.” Charles looked at me with serious eyes. “Has he said anything?”

“No.” I grunted as I tried to slide into the car to apply better pressure.

Meredith scooted closer and reached out to touch her father. “Why did you do this?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Her fingers touched his hair softly and I tilted so I could see her face. For a brief moment, I had a picture of the little girl that she had been. The fear etched on her face made her look younger. I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

I might loathe this man, but he was her father. No matter how horrible he had been, he would always be Meredith’s parent.

“I hear sirens.” Meredith sniffed and shifted on the ground.

“Careful, there’s glass everywhere.” I could feel shards poking through the thin material of my dress shirt.

Arthur groaned and tried to move away from my hand, but I held him still.

“Don’t move, Arthur. You’ve been in a car wreck.” I tried to see if he had opened his eyes, but there was too much fabric in the way.

“Whaaa?” He shifted again.

“Stop moving, Dad.” Meredith edged closer.

“Mere?” His voice took on a sad edge.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

“Sorry.” He let out a breath before coughing.

“Don’t move. We don’t know if anything is broken,” I warned him.

“Hurt?”

“Yes, you’re injured.” I explained. “You have a nasty cut on your head.

“No.” He groaned and coughed again. “Did . . . I . . . hurt . . .”

I realized what he was asking and closed my eyes. “No, you didn’t hurt anyone but yourself.”

And Meredith.

And I’d be damned if I’d ever see that much hurt in her eyes again.

The rain started again, running into my eyes and soaking my clothes. The cold water seemed to seep into my bones.

The sirens had reached us and I could hear doors opening and slamming. Charles stood up and flagged them toward us.

“Down here. We have one injured.” Charles’s voice sounded like that of a drill sergeant.

The rescue crew pulled Meredith away from the car, and one of them slid in next to me to assess the situation.

“What’s his name?” the man asked me.

“Arthur.” I let him take charge of the wound care and backed up.

“Arthur, can you hear me?”

I sat up and tried to move out of the way but keep an ear open.

Looking around the ditch I was standing in, my eyes landed on Meredith. She was chewing on her bottom lip, a large smear of blood across her cheek and on her shirt. Moving quickly to her side, I checked her for cuts.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No.” She shook her head and sniffed mightily.

“What’s wrong?” I pulled the collar of her shirt to the side and looked along her neck. “Where are you hurt?”

“What?” She looked at me with blank eyes. Her red hair was plastered to her face; the thin material of her shirt was soaked through. She had never looked more fragile.

“You said you were hurt.” I wrapped a hand around her neck and looked down in her eyes.

“No.” She shook her head. “I said I wasn’t okay.”

I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m not. Not at all,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to deal with all of this? I feel like I’m holding the world on my shoulders and doing a really bad job. I’m just so tired.”

“You’re not alone, Meredith.” I opened my eyes and stared into hers. “You’ll never be alone again.”

Giant tears spilled from her lovely eyes and traced dirty tracks along her cheeks. Leaning forward, she pressed her face to my shirt and cried. I wrapped my arms around her, my heart aching with each hiccup and sob that escaped her. She fisted her hands in the wet material of my shirt and held on as if I was the only thing keeping her alive.

I watched as the crew worked to remove Arthur from the car, fitting him with a neck brace and loading him onto a stretcher.

The first of the journalists arrived as they were loading him into the ambulance. Leaning down, I swooped Meredith into my arms and headed for Charles’s car. He opened the back door for me and I slid in carefully.

“I need to go to the hospital.” Her voice sounded so tiny and broken. She had cried so hard and for so long, I was surprised she could talk at all.

“Let’s get you changed first.” I set her on the seat next to me and reached around to buckle her in. “You’re drenched to the bone, and the paramedics said that your father was stable.”

“Hospital.” Her chin jutted forward and I sighed.

“Very well.” Charles met my eyes in the rearview mirror and I nodded my head.

Picking up my phone, I called the Thysmer house and asked for Rachel.

“You found him?” Her motherly voice rang with worry.

“We’re on our way to the hospital. Could you get some dry clothes together for Meredith? She’s soaked to the bone.”

“Yes. Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.” I hung up and immediately called Alex.

“How’d it go?” My brother answered the phone with no greeting.

“Not so well.” I lowered my voice. “We’re on our way to the hospital.”

“What happened?” His tone shifted. “Is Meredith hurt?”

“No. Arthur had a car accident.” I frowned. I wasn’t going to elaborate with Meredith sitting next to me. “He’s stable, but I’m not sure when we’ll get home.”

“Don’t worry about Marty. Samantha and he have been having a blast. He’ll be safe here with us.” Alex’s crisp words flowed through the phone. “Family comes first.”

He had said those very words to me before I’d gotten in the car this morning. I closed my eyes. He’d understood that Meredith and Marty were mine, even before I had. And in turn, Alex and the others had accepted Meredith and Marty as their family.“Thank you.” I said the words quietly. “Don’t tell Marty. Let Meredith handle that, okay?”

“Of course.” Alex paused and I could practically hear his brain working. “Let me know if you need anything else. I can send someone to Thysmer if I need to.”

“Rachel is there. I believe the place is in good hands for now.” I looked over at Meredith. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Okay.”

I hung up the phone and wrapped my arm around Meredith.

“I’ve been such a burden to your family.” She turned and looked at me. “Do they mind watching Marty a little longer?”

“Alex said that Samantha is having a blast.” I looked down into her eyes and tried to figure out how to explain how my family saw them. “You are not a burden. My family . . . my family loves you. You’ll be lucky if they ever let you leave.”

“Maybe I don’t want to leave.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Picking up her cold hand, I brought it to my lips. “Good.”

We were silent the rest of the ride to the hospital. Charles dropped us off at the emergency entrance and we were escorted back to the triage area where they were working on Arthur.

She never let go of my hand. Her fingers squeezed mine as she watched them pull glass out of wounds and go over X-rays. We were huddled in a tiny corner, out of the way as the staff worked. One of the nurses took note of our wet clothes and took pity on us. She disappeared and came back with two thin blankets. I wrapped them both around Meredith’s shivering shoulders.

By the time Rachel arrived with clothes, they had taken Arthur back for surgery. One of his lungs had been punctured, but the surgeon seemed very confident that he would be able to repair the damage. Rachel handed me a bag of men’s clothes before she ushered Meredith off to the bathroom to change.

I shrugged out of my ruined clothes in the men’s room and tossed them in the trash. The clothes Rachel had brought were a little big, but that was better than being too small. Unfortunately I was stuck with my wet dress shoes. Going to the mirror, I looked at my reflection and frowned. I hadn’t realized how much blood I’d gotten on my face and in my hair.

Turning the water on, I stuck my head under the flow and used the hand soap to scrub my hair. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was better than having matted blood stuck on my head.

By the time I got out, the press had been alerted to our presence. Thankfully, one of the doctors offered us his office to wait in.

It was the longest four hours of my life. Meredith refused to eat the entire time, her face pale and her hands clenched together. The only time she moved from her seat was to talk to Marty on the phone. She paced back and forth in the tiny office while she cheerily talked to her son about the fish he had caught. When she was done, she collapsed in the chair next to me, and I pulled her into my lap.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured against her head.

“How can you know?” she whispered.

“I just do.” God, please let him be all right. Meredith had dealt with enough.

“The last thing I said to him was that he didn’t matter.” She sucked in one of those horrible body-shaking breaths.

“He knows better.” But maybe he had needed to hear that.

“He’s an awful man, but I love him. God, why do I love him?” Tears gathered in her eyes.

“He’s your father.” I kissed her head. “And you had some good times.”

“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Maybe this will be his bottom.”

“What do you mean?”

“Alcoholics have to hit bottom before they are ready to make a change. It’s different for each person, but maybe this was his.” She gave a wet chuckle. “I had a counselor explain that to me in school.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Thank you.” She sat up in my arms and turned to face me.

“For what?” I cocked my head to the side.

“For being here. For treating me like family.” She closed her eyes. “For being so good to Marty. For showing me that it was okay to let some people in.”