“Mother already sent someone from the palace.”
“Then come with us.”
“How old are you?” I glared at her.
“I’m twenty-two.” She smiled. “Why won’t you come with us?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.” I sighed. She wasn’t going to leave me alone.
“Promised who?” She stopped in her tracks.
“Meredith.” I growled her name. Knowing that she was doing all of this today on her own made me angry. Even more angry knowing that she had made me promise when she had such an important thing happening.
“Why?” A sly smile curved my sister’s lips. “Did you annoy her that fast?”
“Shut it.” I glared down at her. “She doesn’t want our help.”
“But does she need it?”
My chest clenched and something in my face must’ve shifted because Cathy smiled like the cat that swallowed the canary.
“You can’t force people to take your help,” I said.
“We don’t leave our own to deal with horrible stuff alone.” Cathy crossed her arms. “And look at you! It’s bothering you so much you were up at dawn.”
“I had a nightmare.” There, I’d give a dog a bone and let her gnaw on that. It would be better than her going on about Meredith.
“I wonder why.” She smiled up at me. “Be ready at two.”
“I’m not going with you.” Putting my hands on her shoulders, I moved her out of my way.
“Wear something nice. We want to look civilized.”
I shook my head. Little sisters were something else.
I showered and changed back in my room before gathering my stuff and heading to the lake. I hadn’t been lying about wanting to paint. The idea had stuck in my head and I needed to get it out.
I used one of the four-wheel terrain vehicles to get my supplies to where I wanted. It was a decent walk and would have been made difficult by carrying an easel, canvas, and paints.
Once I was set up, I tuned into the painting and let everything else melt away. And as I smoothed paint on the canvas, everything did melt away, except my nagging need to protect Meredith while she gave her speech today. It was in the back of my mind the entire time I worked. Like a quiet whisper stuck on repeat.
And I knew damn well there was only one way to deal with it. If I didn’t go to that damn event, I’d be pissed off for days. I also knew that if I went it would push Meredith even further away from me. Which could be good. Or at least that’s what I was trying to convince myself of. On the other hand, I didn’t break promises. It bothered me to think that I was even considering it right this moment.
As I slapped paint on the canvas, slowly carving out the waves along the bank, I went through the possible scenarios. Tell Sam, if Cathy hasn’t yet, that I promised to give Meredith some space. Surely Sam would understand that. She knew what it was like to end up royal all of a sudden. Explain that I thought they should go and I would keep myself busy.
Or I could go and try to stay out of sight. Which would be impossible with the media around.
Yet, maybe there was a third option. I could help without helping. Sort of behind-the-scenes help. That would allow me to not feel guilty, do something good, and hopefully make someone happy.
That solution went a long way to making me feel better and I was able to concentrate on my painting. Yes, a compromise would be a good solution. I would give her a day. A full twenty-four hours. If she wasn’t speaking until that afternoon then it would be at least a few more hours before she got home. Which would mean I’d have done what I said. I would have avoided her for an entire day.
Smiling to myself, I continued my work on the painting. Yes, painting had been exactly what I needed. I felt much better.
Once I was finished, I packed up and headed back to the house. Sam was sitting on one of the sofas near the fireplace, a book propped up on her stomach. She really wasn’t very big, but the baby bump was unmistakable.
“Oh, let me see what you did today.” She closed her book and leveraged herself up off the sofa.
I turned the canvas around so she could get a look at it.
“God, you’re so damn talented. It’s not really fair.” She smiled at me to take the sting out of her words. “I love the colors.”
“I’m happy with the way it turned out.” I leaned the painting against one of the walls and rubbed my hands on my jeans. “What are you reading?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” She smiled.
“I thought you just finished it.” I shook my head.
“I did.” She shrugged. “I wanted to read it again.”
“You’re a wee bit weird.” I raised my eyebrow and held my finger and thumb up to show a small little space between the two.