“I’m not sure, Your Highness. Would you mind waiting a moment?”
I peeked around the corner before ducking back. There he was, standing there in khakis and an untucked button-up shirt. The sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hearing the butler coming up the stairs, I ran back to my room quickly and kicked off the fuzzy slippers I’d been wearing. Why was Max here? Was he going to back out of being a pallbearer? I couldn’t imagine any other reason for him to show up right now. Or ever, really. Not that I was complaining. He was nice to look at and his smile caused parts of me that had been dead for years to heat up. But why?
“Lady Meredith?” The butler knocked on my open door frame. “Prince Maxwell is here to see you.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right down.” I looked around my room for suitable shoes. “Would you take him to the sitting room and order some tea?”
“Of course, my lady.” He started to turn.
“Um, where is my father?” I didn’t want to throw Max to the wolves.
“I believe he left this morning to visit the village pub.” His voice and face never changed, but I could see the pity in his eyes.
“That’s for the best, I suppose.” I shrugged. “Thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed quickly and left.
Rummaging rapidly through my closet, I found a pair of dark red flats that wouldn’t squish my toes but looked cute with my jeans. I liked it when my shoes stood out. It was something like wearing armor. Good shoes made me feel good, which in turn made me feel like I was in charge.
But why was Max here? I walked slowly down the hall. What was I going to do if he backed out? I still hadn’t talked to my father about the funeral, though I was sure he assumed I’d just take care of everything.
I hesitated just outside of the sitting room and took a deep breath, letting nervous Meredith melt away and replacing her with strong Meredith. I could play this role for a little while until he left, but eventually I needed some time to fret and panic. Just to get it out of my system.
“Max?” I opened the door and let surprise show on my face. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
He stood up and his eyes ran over my open shirt briefly before fixing on my face. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh, I see.” I sat down and motioned for him to do the same. “I ordered tea.”
“Thank you.” He sat down and leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. “I know that at the house you said you didn’t need any help.”
“If you’re uncomfortable being a pallbearer, I completely understand. My feelings will not be hurt if you’d rather back out.” I smiled at him and hoped that my performance was compelling. I wasn’t exactly at the top of my game right now.
“No, no. You misunderstood what I meant.” He shook his head. “I’m offering to help out with all of the planning.”
“What?” My eyebrows drew together.
“I’d like to help while you get things settled. Even if it’s just taking Marty fishing to keep him away from the more depressing things.” He shrugged.
“You want to help plan a funeral?” I shook my head, confused.
“Or help keep Marty distracted.” He looked at me with serious eyes. “I know what it’s like to watch everyone around you deal with the death of a loved one.”
“I see.” I leaned back in my chair. “Have you ever watched a six-year-old boy?”
“I don’t think I did too bad yesterday afternoon.” He looked mildly offended, and it took a lot of control to keep from smiling.
“Yes, it’s easy when video games are involved.”
“Well? What do you say?” He rubbed his palms on his pants and I noticed that there was paint under his nails.
“That’s really sweet, but I already feel like a burden.” I frowned as one of the staff members brought in our tray of tea.
“You’re not a burden.” He picked up the pot and poured us both a cup. “Besides, it’s me or Sam is going to send a bunch of staff over here to take care of you. Her mommy instincts are in full swing right now.”
“I see.” So the princess was behind his offer of help. “Really, I can’t accept. I’m sure you have much more important things to do—”
The front door swung open with a bang and a crash as a picture fell from a wall in the foyer.
“Where t’ hell are you, Mere? You think you can jus’ plan everythin’ withou’ me?” Dad’s voice carried through the house like a tidal wave. “An’ who da hell’s car is blockin’ my driveway?”