The Princess and the Duke (19 page)

“M
y, 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,
expressions 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.”