Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4)

by Long, Heather

  George rose at his arrival, but Sebastian gestured for his younger sibling to resume his seat. Sebastian executed a half bow to his eldest brother, as was custom.

  Armand merely raised his brows. “You’re late.”

  “My apologies. I was detained by an unavoidable matter.” He took a seat to Armand’s right, opposite George. It seemed odd to have both of his brothers in the same room without others to play buffer between them. Armand maintained a careful distance since Sebastian admitted to outing his relationship with Anna to the press. Sebastian’s miscalculation created a security snafu and headache, but ultimately worked in the manner he’d intended.

  Armand was with the woman he loved. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Sebastian waited patiently for Armand to tackle whatever subject led to his summons.

  “George will be leaving for New York with his detail in the next couple of weeks. He begins classes after the first of the year.” Armand didn’t look at George, but their younger brother grimaced, obviously not looking forward to curtailing his lifestyle to procure an education. “As I’m sure you can assume, this will mean changes for your appearance schedule, Sebastian. Gretchen will update your secretary.”

  Unacceptable. “I will be unavailable for any significant appearances in the next few weeks.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Sebastian refused to squirm under the weight of Armand’s stare. “I have other commitments. I have no problem with taking on more duties at a future date, but as for the immediate needs? We’ll have to send a representative or cancel.”

  “Or I can just maintain my schedule until Sebastian’s free.” George asserted his preference into the silence. “I can always begin in the fall semester.”

  “No.” Armand dismissed the idea immediately. “You already put it off to the spring. You’re going.” Turning to Sebastian, Armand frowned. “I looked at your schedule this morning. I found nothing major pending which cannot be rearranged to accommodate George’s appearances.”

  “Aside from several events coming in the next few weeks, I also need to make some adjustments for a matter which came up this morning.” Unfortunately, Armand could and would make whatever changes he deemed necessary with or without his approval. Sebastian’s duty was to see his requests carried out. Whether they possessed a country to rule or not, as the head of the family, it was Armand’s call.

  “I’ll be damned.” George’s tone spoke of awe. “I think our cousin was right, Armand.”

  “So I see. Excuse us, George.” The clipped dismissal didn’t sit well with their younger brother, and Armand spared him an inflexible look. “You need to go over your schedule with Peterson and his men. Do not be difficult.”

  Rebellious or not, George obeyed. As soon as the door closed behind him, Armand frowned at Sebastian. “What matter came up this morning?”

  “It doesn’t concern you or pertain to our family obligations. What specific items on George’s schedule have to be covered? A presence at the critical appointments should be sufficient, yes?” He didn’t need more responsibilities. His free time had been curtailed severely after an assassin got too close to him with a knife—the attack, along with increased tensions caused by Belarian royalists, demanded limitations to his schedule.

  He was making plans to be with Meredith and would damn well not cancel them. Not while she thought herself less important than his duties—the thought so patently ridiculous, it aggravated him all over again.

  Armand’s eyes narrowed. “Everything about my family concerns me.”

  “Speaking of family, how is Anna adjusting to life as a Grand Duchess?” Bringing up Armand’s new wife worked like a charm. His expression relaxed for a fraction of a second before a frown erased his good mood. No, he clearly hadn’t forgiven Sebastian for his call to the press.

  “Brilliantly, but then I expected nothing less. She is a force to be reckoned with when she wants something.” He touched a digital tablet in front of him. “Out of George’s appearances, the one which concerns me most is in Minsk.”

  “Minsk?” It was Sebastian’s turn to frown. Though the Andraste family maintained extensive interests around the globe, they rarely ventured personally or with their capital into Belaria. With the political unrest and threats traceable back to the nation— “Why would you let him schedule something there?”

  “I didn’t.” The quiet snap of the words rebuked him for suggesting otherwise. “However, with the unrest and the royalist movement and George’s previous involvement, it seemed the most politically expedient way to put certain rumors to bed while mollifying both sides of the argument.”

  “And a good way to get him shot.” Sebastian couldn’t believe Armand even entertained the idea. “George is not the right man—” He stopped. “You never intended to send him.”

  “No. He started the mess.” Armand sighed. “And I cannot be the one to go.”

  “No, since you’re the one they want to crown, it has to be me.” He’d walked right into the decision. As the second son, he was also Armand’s heir, though George meant Sebastian remained somewhat expendable. If Anna gave birth to Armand’s child, the family line would be secure and Sebastian’s importance would diminish.

  Thank God.

  “You’re the reasonable compromise. You are unmarried, personable, and your reputation for being bon vivant makes you far less suitable to rule. Fortunately, despite one or two questionable choices, you have better impulse control than George.” Somehow, the words didn’t sound remotely like a compliment.

  Belaria would be a security nightmare. The press was already primed for the Andraste family to make some kind of move. Their laser focus transferred from Armand to Sebastian with Armand’s marriage—particularly since Armand and Anna denied the press a feeding frenzy by pulling off a very private wedding ceremony.

  “You will, of course, receive additional security. Peterson will work out the specifics with Vidal, but I expect you to take every necessary precaution. We will double your security here and I’ve authorized the expenses to triple the force on the ground there. It will be three days in—one for an arrival and state dinner, a second for visiting key sites and the third for charitable foundation work.”

  Armand continued and Sebastian barely heard him. Certainly, three days in Belaria, but it would take weeks of prepping. The additional security and focus meant he wouldn’t get anywhere near Meredith.

  “Armand, I can’t commit to this.” He interrupted his brother mid-sentence, and Armand frowned. “I mean it. I have another crucial matter …”

  “This is crucial. These people are persisting in their attempts against our family. They haven’t targeted Mother yet, but I wouldn’t put it past them. If Anna is right, Alyx will be announcing her pregnancy soon, and when she does…”

  Sebastian’s right eye began to throb. “The speculation begins.” Alyx was a member of the family, but both her position as their cousin and her marriage to Daniel Voldakov removed her from the immediacy of inheritance. Armand’s marriage, and his close ties to Alyx, made the speculation unavoidable. “Everyone will want to know when a royal baby will be in the offing.”

  “Exactly.” Armand’s stern mask relaxed and he leaned forward. “I have to protect Anna. We have to make this situation go away before the possibility occurs to them. The Belarian separatists think they want a royal presence and her military definitely doesn’t want us there. Currently they believe it far more expedient to eliminate our family line. Sebastian, I need you to do this for us. I need you to help me protect our family.”

  He could hardly say no, but Meredith needed him, too. How could he merge the tasks? He couldn’t afford to ignore her repudiation. Meredith was a reasonable woman, but as long as several thousand miles separated them, he couldn’t ensure she understood how much he cared for her. “I understand, brother, however, I need something as well.”

  “Name it.”

  It was a gamble, but perhaps after all these years, Armand would unde
rstand. “Her name is Meredith Blake…”

  Freezing drizzle slicked the windows with the promise of ice by the time Terry pulled up in front of her brownstone. He’d insisted on driving her home, though she was less than a ten-minute walk from the campus. The proximity to the campus was one of the reasons she’d purchased the house when she’d accepted a tenure upon completion of her doctorate. “Thank you, Terry.”

  “You’re welcome.” He’d parked the vehicle and circled around to open her door before she’d gotten her seatbelt loosened. The man was almost preternaturally fast, but she’d gotten used to him over the years. Once, when she’d delayed meeting Sebastian because Terry hadn’t been able to accompany her, Sebastian suggested replacing the man. She’d refused. Strange enough to have an escort in the first place, worse if the chaperone were a stranger. Terry was more than just a guard; he’d become her friend. Sadly, she and Sebastian’s first real disagreement erupted over the issue.

  Icy wind whipped around the side of the building and cut through her thoughts. She needed to stop dwelling on Sebastian and all the could have beens. Terry tugged her backpack from her fingers. He locked the truck up and walked her up the steps, one hand on her elbow. The steps weren’t quite iced over, but if the weather forecaster was correct, dawn would be frigid.

  “Do you have classes tomorrow?” Terry asked, waiting for her to unlock the front door. As soon as it opened, she crossed to the security panel and pressed in her code while Terry closed and locked the door.

  “I have one lecture, but it’s in the afternoon. I’ll be grading papers all morning and I have to prepare for finals.” With Thanksgiving just around the corner, the fall semester would tumble towards finals week before most of the students hustled off for the holidays.

  “Can you do the grading from here?” Terry walked down the hall to the first floor sitting room then jogged up the stairs to the kitchen and her office. She trudged up behind him. He met her on the second floor. “All clear.”

  “Thank you, Terry.” She didn’t question him. The routine was too familiar. “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure.” He followed her into the kitchen. “What about tomorrow? Can you do your grading from home? If the ice storm turns vicious, it would be better if you did.”

  “You’re worse than my father,” she teased and went through the motions of setting up the coffee pot. She liked her brownstone and, while she didn’t really need all the space, she enjoyed the kitchen most of all. It was huge and offered her plenty of room for cooking big meals or baking—she loved baking. Though it had been a long time since she’d hosted a dinner party of any kind, since Sebastian might call at any moment. Or, worse, the ever-present possibility she’d be paired with some poor man who thought they were on a date and then she would have to let them down easy.

  Stop it. The constant mental chasing of her metaphorical tail would drive her mad. Maybe she could host a little get together over the weeks of Christmas break. Several of her colleagues wouldn’t be traveling, so an evening with friends, perhaps some wine…

  Stomach clenching, she pivoted on her heels. His back was to her, but maybe the answer she needed was right in front of her. “Terry? You’re not married, right?”

  His shoulders stiffened at the question, and he spun slowly to give her a guarded look. “No, why?”

  “Would you like to stay for dinner? We’ve shared dinner before, but usually you eating in one corner while I work in the other. How about I make dinner then we sit down and talk?” She was babbling. She hated to babble.

  The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I’m not sure it’s the best idea, Meredith.” She thought he would say more, but he went silent instead.

  “Maybe not, but we’re friends, right? Friends can have dinner.” Please don’t make me sit in this house by myself. I don’t want to cry myself to sleep, and I desperately need the distraction. It would sound an awful lot like begging to voice the words, so she clenched her hands, digging nails into her palms. “If you have plans, ignore me. I’ve had a bad day.”

  He sighed, and shook his head slowly. “I don’t have any plans, and I would love to have dinner with you.”

  “Fantastic.” Shifting her attention back to the coffee pot, she glanced at her empty counters and grimaced. Figuring out what to have for dinner might be a problem…

  “Want me to call and order something?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. Terry eyed the empty counters with a skeptical look. “Actually, I know I have stuff here to fix. How do you feel about Italian?” Diverting to the pantry, she pulled out spaghetti and two jars of sauce. She’d hoarded it for a cold night like this one.

  “Love it. I’ll give you a hand…” He’d stripped off his suit jacket and begun rolling up his sleeves when his cell phone rang. Meredith nodded and went to get meat from the freezer. If she put it in water, it would defrost soon enough. Desperate for a distraction, she continued to pull out the pans she’d need and then went in search of the loaf of French bread she vaguely recalled buying a couple of days before.

  Terry’s voice was merely a murmur in the background until she heard, “Yes, sir. I’m with her now.”

  Meredith jerked around and banged her head against the door. The resounding crack actually made her see spots for a moment, and the half-formed headache of the day ballooned.

  “Are you all right?” Terry lowered the phone and crossed to her as she rubbed her head.

  “I’m fine.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice echoed from the cell phone and Meredith’s heart dropped.

  “Let me see,” Terry instructed before he ran his fingers over her scalp. She winced as he found the tender spot. “Go sit down, I’ll get some ice.”

  “O’Connor.” Clipped demand rang in Sebastian’s tone, but it was a lower, more urgent note underneath it that compelled her.

  “Don’t yell at him, Sebastian. I banged my head. Give him a moment.”

  Terry pointed her toward a chair then he went to her freezer and pulled out ice. After filling a bag, he carried it over and pressed it to the side of her head before putting his phone back to his ear. “Miss Blake is fine, sir. She struck her head on the door and we’re icing it.” He went silent for a long moment and glanced down at her. She read the question in his eyes and shook her head. No, she did not want to talk to Sebastian. How many ways could she say it? “No, sir. I’m afraid I can’t.”

  After another long pause, she could hear Sebastian’s accent grow more pronounced even if she couldn’t make out the content of his statements. English was a second or maybe a third language for him, and he slipped when he was well and truly angry.

  “I understand, sir. But in this instance, my first and only goal is to see to Miss Blake’s safety. I cannot and will not force her.” Meredith blinked at the steel lacing Terry’s words. “You are certainly welcome to do so, sir. I can provide you with several excellent recommendations.”

  No longer content to sit by while Bastian took his temper out on Terry, Meredith straightened. Her head pounded, but she didn’t know how much was due to striking it on the door or Bastian’s anger on the phone. “For what?”

  “His Highness wants recommendations for personal security, Meredith. If you’ll give me a few moments, I can help you with dinner.” His expression softened, and his smile turned amused. For the barest moment, she glimpsed mischief in his normally serious eyes and Meredith’s jaw dropped.

  Terry was tweaking Sebastian quite squarely on the nose.

  Oh dear God. She stood and set the ice down. “Terry…”

  “It’s quite all right. I have the numbers here, Your Highness.” Amusement continued to widen his mouth, and Meredith scrubbed a palm against her face. Terry seemed to be enjoying the situation, but the plummeting sensation in her stomach worsened. Ending things with Sebastian shouldn’t include hurting him. She wanted a clean break, not a painful one.

  “I’ll speak to him, Terry.” The words slipped out befo
re she could stop them and he paused.

  “A moment, Your Highness.” He depressed a button on the screen and she realized he’d muted the call. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  “He’s firing you.”

  “He’s entitled to do what he wants. It’s not about you, it’s about him asking me to perform tasks not outlined by my position. If you want to talk to him, I’ll hand you the phone, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced to speak to him.”

  Beyond the oddness of discussing her romantic contretemps with the man, it took it too far to put him in the midst of it. “I’m sorry,” she murmured to him. “You shouldn’t have to choose a side or be put in the middle.”

  “I don’t mind,” he told her with a level, serious look. “You tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

  She wanted to have never felt like she and Bastian couldn’t work. She wanted for Bastian to have never been stabbed. Sometimes, she even wanted to have never met him. Unfortunately, time travel and magic were theories even mathematics couldn’t turn into reality.

  Yet.

  “I’ll talk to him.” She held out her hand.

  He passed the phone to her and then touched gentle fingers to the lump on the side of her head. It was still tender. “Put the ice back on this. I’m going to go down and move my car to give you your privacy. Do you still want to have dinner?”

  She hesitated. Her impulsive request wasn’t terrifically fair to him.

  “It’s just food, Meredith.” He smiled, but the lightness in his tone did nothing to alleviate her guilt. “We can eat then I’ll make sure you’re secure before I head out.”

  Grasping his gracious offer, she found the wherewithal to smile. “Thank you, Terry.”