There was no response, and she felt a dart of unease work through her. She pushed back the bedclothes and realized he’d left his robe for her at the foot of the bed.
Sliding into it, smelling the faint, seductive scent of him, made her immediately feel closer to him, and she padded out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, she found the note. He’d attached it to the carafe of coffee, and she slowly tugged it free, smiling to herself.
Called to meeting. P.
“Nobody knows more about a life of duty than the child of a king,” she murmured. Whistling tunelessly, she poured some coffee into the mug that he’d left out for her and carried it to the bedroom where she began gathering her clothes.
Then she headed for the shower, and clean and dressed, she rode the elevator to the lobby, not caring in the least who saw her leave Pierce’s flat. She loved him, and he loved her, and the paparazzi could make of her actions whatever they wanted.
She drove straight to the RII, sailing over to Lillian’s temporary desk. “Good morning.”
“I think someone had a good night.”
“Indeed, someone did.” Meredith smiled softly, pouring herself another cup of coffee. “When the colonel calls, put him right through, would you?”
Lillian smiled. “My pleasure.”
Meredith tucked her tongue between her teeth, and feeling like she was walking on air, headed to her office. Six hours later, she was heading to the palace. Pierce had yet to call her, but she refused to let that trouble her.
Particularly when she was dashing up the wide staircase toward her chambers and saw the man himself walking out of the King’s quarters. She called his name and turned on her heel, skipping down the stairs.
Pierce glanced at the door Broderick had barely kept from slamming shut in his ire. The RET had kept Broderick busy all day, and Broderick hadn’t appreciated having his own agendas turned upside down for theirs. But the door was safely shut now. The Queen knew the truth. And Broderick’s charade would be over once the alliances were signed. The RET would slip the man back into the life of secluded privilege from which they’d pulled him.
Pierce looked at Meredith, smiling at the way she suddenly seemed to realize she was practically running and deliberately moderated her pace. Her eyes were glowing, and though he’d spent the entire day telling himself he needed to break things off with her, he couldn’t bring himself to say a single word to that effect. “Hi.”
She stopped in front of him, somehow managing to look both sexy and shy at the same time. “I missed you this morning.”
“Meetings.”
“So your note said. I don’t mind,” she said easily. She stepped closer, smoothing her palm up and over his chest. “Though I’d have preferred to share the shower with you. But maybe next time.”
“I’ve created a monster.”
Her green eyes were laughing. “Would you change it if you could?”
The only thing he’d change would be the necessity of keeping the truth about her father from her. As long as he had to maintain that lie, pursuing a relationship with Meredith was impossible. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
She moistened her lips, and want streaked through him. “Stay and have dinner with us. Would you please?”
“With the family? Meredith, that’s not a good—”
“Please. They’re not that bad.”
Pierce swallowed hard when she pressed herself against him and bold as brass nibbled at his chin. “Please?”
“Using your feminine wiles?”
“Trying. Is it working?”
His hands slid to her hips, pulling her against him. Tight. “What do you think?”
Her eyes went slumberous. “Working beautifully,” she whispered on a sigh. “Stay with me.”
“I want to.”
“Do I hear a but in there?”
“Meredith, your mother—”
She pressed her lips to his, silencing him. Then she leaned up, murmuring near his ear. “She will never, ever have to know about Edwin. I told you that last night. You were right, Pierce. About everything. Knowing what he did, what he tried to do, oh, it wouldn’t serve any good purpose. And sooner or later, the public would find out, and she doesn’t deserve that, either.”
He threaded his fingers through her luxurious hair. “You are a remarkable woman.”
“Who loves a remarkable man,” she whispered. “Now, please. Stay for dinner?”
He couldn’t resist her. He’d tried for too many years, and he’d failed. And right then, with her body soft and warm against him, he couldn’t deny her again. “All right. I’ve got to clean up first.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered. “My shower is large—”
“Meredith.” He kissed her hard and quick and deliberately set her away from him before she could make him forget any semblance of common sense.
She laughed softly and headed for the stairs once more. “You’ve got three hours. Plenty of time to go back to your flat. And Pierce—”
“Yes?”
She smiled impishly. “Don’t forget your toothbrush.” She laughed at his strangled groan and darted up the stairs.
When he returned later that evening, she was still laughing. He stood in the entry to the family room where one of the butlers had showed him and watched Meredith across the room. She was standing next to Owen, her head tilted back, musical laughter bubbling from her lips. He watched her slowly look his way, as if she’d sensed him there. And her expression was so warm, so full of love, that for a minute, he couldn’t see anything but her.
Couldn’t feel anything but the wave of welcome that emanated from her.
Then she crossed the floor, tucking her hand through his arm and pulling him into the room. “Everyone will be here except the King. He doesn’t often have meals with us these days.”
Pierce kept his smile in place with an effort. How had hiding his lies ever become so difficult?
“And you know everyone, of course. So there’s no point in introductions.”
Owen stuck out his hand. “Colonel. Glad you could make it.”
Pierce shook the prince’s hand. He’d always liked Owen, but unlike so many of his countrymen, he didn’t make the automatic assumption that the young man would, in fact, one day be King. There were two sons, after all. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, please.” Anastasia laughed and, as natural as you please, brushed a welcoming kiss over Pierce’s cheek. “We don’t stand on that much ceremony. Not in here.”
Owen smiled crookedly. “She’s right. Would you like a drink? Sherry?”
“He likes beer,” Meredith said for him.
“Thank God,” Owen muttered. “Another male who doesn’t drink that god-awful sherry.”
He’d just accepted the cold bottle from Owen when the Queen appeared in the doorway, looking as regal as ever, despite the fact that she’d spent most of her day tucked in the bowels below ground with her comatose husband.
But then, the Queen had always been stronger than most people gave her credit for.
She walked right to him and looked him in the eye. “You love my daughter.”
“Mother.” Meredith’s hand, tucked in his, tightened.
“It’s all right, Meredith.” He wouldn’t turn away from the Queen. He’d been doing that for far too many years. “Yes. I love her.”
Marissa smiled faintly. “Then welcome,” she said gently. And, as Anastasia had done only moments before, she stretched up and brushed a kiss over Pierce’s cheek. “It is time for the secret to be shared, isn’t it,” she murmured, her gaze meeting his meaningfully.
Pierce’s throat knotted. And when the Queen continued to look at him, he knew what she was really saying. The gift she was giving. Whether he had the agreement of the rest of the RET or not, she’d given him the only approval he cared about. “Yes. It is time.”
“I don’t think it’s any secret that you and my sister can’t keep your hands off each other,”
Owen drawled, and everyone chuckled. Marissa turned away, breaking that meaningful look as she accepted a glass of the dreaded sherry from her son. Only Pierce knew the secret to which the Queen had been referring was not his relationship with Meredith, but the truth about the King.
And he knew then that no matter how heinous he’d found it to kill a man with his bare hands, he’d do it again, if only to protect this family from harm.
Not because of duty.
Because of love.
“Are you all right?” Meredith touched his face.
“Yes.” He grabbed her and kissed the palm. “I think I am.”
“Good. Because dinner is ready.”
“Wait.”
Her eyes danced. “I think you should eat, Colonel,” she suggested in a low voice. “You might have reason later to keep up your strength.”
“I have something to tell you first.” He drew her over to one of the couches and nudged her down.
Her expression went wary. “What is it?”
“Nothing bad.” He’d tell her later about the King. He’d take her down to see her father himself. Give her a chance to adjust. She’d probably give him grief for not telling her sooner and then probably turn right around and make him accept the reasons he hadn’t been able to do so.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Well?”
“Marry me.”
Her eyes went wide. Soft as dawn. “I…Pierce.”
“I mean, please. Will you marry me? I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to order you around, or anything.”
Her eyes glistened. “You’re the only one who could order me right up to the altar,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you wanted that.”
“Because I did a damned good job of convincing you otherwise.” He started to kneel, but she shook her head, tugging him instead to sit beside her.
“I want you beside me. All the way.”
“I’m not an easy man.”
“Are you trying to warn me off now that you’ve both demanded and asked for marriage?”
“I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“The only thing I regret—” her fingers twined with his “—are the years we spent dancing around each other, when we could have been dancing with each other.”
“I’m not good enough for you. I never have been.”
“Be careful what you say. You’re talking about the man Her Royal Highness, Meredith Elizabeth, Princess of Penwyck, plans to marry.”
“Be very sure, Meredith. Because I won’t be able to let you go. It was hard enough when I didn’t really have you. It’ll be impossible once I do.”
“You’ve had me all along, Pierceson Prescott. Whether you wanted me or not. I was always yours. And yes, I’ll be your wife. I want a life with you. Children with you. But mostly—” she leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his “—mostly, I just want you.”
He slid his arms around her. “I must have done something in this world right,” he murmured, sipping at her lips. “That you’ll have me.”
“Oh, I will definitely have you,” she said, her voice as rich with laughter and love as her eyes were filled with tears. “And you’ll have me, as well.” She kissed him, and her breath was unsteady when she stood. “Come with me.”
He stood, also, pulling her against him. Right where he wanted her. More or less. “Meredith, your family is very welcoming. But I can’t go into the dining room in this state.”
“Who said we’re going to the dining room?” She pulled him into the hallway and headed toward the grand, sweeping staircase that led to the upper level where her chambers were located. “There are better things to feast on than rack of lamb or whatever menu Chef has planned tonight.”
He caught her around the waist, drawing her close to him. “Like what?” But he already knew.
Her lips slowly met his, and at last it sank in just how much he’d been lost without her.
“Love,” she whispered, holding him. Heart to heart. Soul to soul. “Tonight, darling Pierce, we feast on love.”
Epilogue
“My, my, my. Look who has come to breakfast.” Anastasia giggled, and Meredith sighed mightily, pulling Pierce into the breakfast room.
“I thought you said we wouldn’t run into anyone down here,” Pierce murmured for her ears alone as he followed her over to pour himself some coffee.
“Sometimes even I am known to be wrong.” Meredith laughed softly, loving the dusky tinge climbing along his hard jaw. “I figured they’d all be gone by now. It’s later than usual.”
“They’ll know I spent the night here with you.”
“And they’ll get used to it,” she whispered. “I’m not ashamed of it. Are you?”
“Hell, no.” His eyes roved over her, and this time it was her face that felt flushed. Then he smiled a little, and she felt like laughing right out loud, she was so happy. So full of joy. Not even a midnight trip down to an infirmary that she’d never known existed had been able to quell the deep, abiding joy she felt at knowing she would be spending her life with Pierce. She’d been startled to see her father incapacitated. And oddly grateful that the oddities she’d thought she’d lately noticed in him were because he hadn’t been himself at all. And she had absolute faith that her father would recover.
She pulled Pierce to the table and they sat down to eat. “Where is Owen?” she asked her sister.
“Out. As usual.” Anastasia slid into her seat and poked at her bacon with a fork. “He probably went out to find some entertainment of his own after dinner—which some people managed to miss, I might add—last night. That boy seriously knows the meaning of sowing his wild oats.”
“Anastasia.” The Queen entered the room, chiding. “Such a thing to say.”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Goodness only knows what Dylan’s out there doing, as well.”
Marissa tilted her head, considering that. “Boys will be boys.” Her blue gaze drifted over Pierce. “And men will be men. Good morning, Pierce.”
He’d stood the moment she’d entered the room. “Your Majesty.”
“Marissa will do,” she said softly, lightly touching his shoulder as she passed behind him to pour herself some tea.
Meredith squeezed Pierce’s hand and tugged him back down to his seat. She knew how much he admired the Queen and how deep his loyalty to her father, the King, went. She understood so much more than ever before just what kind of man he was. He’d been awarded a noble title by her father as a result of the events that long-ago night when Edwin had attempted his inexplicably horrible deeds. But Pierce had been noble to his core well before that. His nobility was born of the heart. It always had been.
“So, are we going to hear wedding bells ringing through all of Penwyck again before long?”
Meredith caught Pierce’s gaze at Anastasia’s teasing words.
“They’ll definitely be ringing,” he said, looking utterly content and supremely male.
“We’re not in any hurry to start with the details,” Meredith said. She loved Pierce, and he loved her. And for now, that was more than enough.
“Too busy just enjoying each other, I suppose,” Anastasia remarked. “Well, might I remind you that neither one of you is getting any younger?”
Pierce laughed softly when Meredith let out a most unprincesslike snort. “You’re also on the downhill slide to thirty, my dear,” she told her sister sweetly.
“Yes.” Anastasia smiled brilliantly. “But my speed is a lot slower than yours, darling.”
“Girls,” Marissa tsked. “Behave yourselves, or Pierce will think we’re a totally undisciplined family.” She noticed Selwyn had silently appeared just inside the doorway and set down her tea before going to him.
“The sooner it is legal, the happier I’ll be,” Pierce said truthfully. But his gaze was focused on the Queen, who looked suddenly pale. Selwyn entered the room, and the Queen suddenly ran from it.
Meredith and Anastasia popped up from their seats, expression
s concerned, and Pierce rose more slowly, sliding his arm around them both. “Estabon? What is it?”
“It’s Owen,” Selwyn said rapidly, allaying Pierce’s concern that the other man had come to deliver bad news about the King’s health.
Selwyn didn’t look at the princesses. He looked straight at Pierce, and his gaze was dark. Grim. Speaking of things the RET had prayed would never occur.
“It’s Owen,” he said again. “He’s been kidnapped.”
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Allison Leigh for her contribution to the CROWN AND GLORY series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5838-3
THE PRINCESS AND THE DUKE
Copyright © 2002 by Harlequin Books S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Visit Silhouette at www.eHarlequin.com
*Men of the Double-C Ranch
*Men of the Double-C Ranch
*Men of the Double-C Ranch
*Men of the Double-C Ranch
*Men of the Double-C Ranch
The Princess and the Duke Page 19