Reluctantly Royal(41)

“Don’t come in my home and judge me.” He smacked his hand down on the chair arm. “What I do in my own home has nothing to do with you.”

“It does when it endangers Meredith and Marty.”

“They are only here for the funeral, then back to England they go.” He scratched at the scruff on his chin. “Bet they’re dying to get back.”

“It might be easier on them if you cut back on your drinking while they are here.” I sat up straighter and put my hands on my knees. “You could try actually spending time with them, instead of being passed out in your room.”

“They can spend time with me anytime they want.” His eyes darted back to the cabinet.

“Not if they’re afraid you’re going to hit them.” I ground my teeth together.

“I wouldn’t have hurt Mere.” He rolled his eyes, and it took all of my willpower to keep from leaping across the table between us.

“If I hadn’t been there, you would have hurt her.” There was no disguising the anger in my words.

“Ah. I see. You want to champion my daughter.” The old man leaned forward, just begging to be punched. “Be her knight in shining armor and steal her away from this horrible life.” His laugh made my muscles tense.

I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. I did want to whisk Meredith and Marty away. Whisk them right back to their place in England, where they would be safe. He made it sound wrong, dirty somehow.

“Let me tell you something, boy. My daughter is using you. Trailing you along like she does all the men that come sniffing around her door. She’ll use you, get what she wants, and never look back.” His smug smile made the hair on my arms stand up. “I don’t know what you have that she wants, but there’s something. Fuck, you’re a goddamn prince. She might want to be queen.” His mirthless laugh filled the room. “Or she wants to use you to get attention for her singing career. I don’t know. But I can tell you this; this family isn’t anything but trailer trash. You can give us a title, lands, and money, but it doesn’t change a thing. Deep down, we’ll always be the poor neighbors.”

I stood up and stared down at the miserable man across from me. “Meredith has more breeding, backbone, and strength than anyone I’ve ever met. You, on the other hand, are exactly what you say you are.”

“High-and-mighty, aren’t you?” Arthur stood up and walked to the liquor cabinet. “You’ll see.”

“Dad?” Meredith’s sleepy voice came from the hallway.

“In here.” Arthur turned around with a smug expression. “With your boy toy.”

“Stop that.” Meredith rounded the corner and pulled her robe tight. “Prince Maxwell is a friend.”

“As you say.” He motioned with his full tumbler.

“For the love of God, Dad. It’s barely eight o’clock in the morning.” Meredith put a hand on one hip. “We have company coming today.”

“I didn’t invite anyone.” The old man shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“The royal family is coming to pay their respects.” Meredith glanced toward me and then back at her father.

“Looks like he’s already done that.” Her father raised an eyebrow. “Kicked him out to sleep on the couch when you were done with him?”

“Father.” The warning in her tone was ignored.

“You could have at least let him have one of the guest rooms.” He leered.

“I offered to stay and help this morning.” I stood up straight and glared at Arthur. “Nothing inappropriate happened.”

The old man grunted. “Play the game all you want.”

“Can you manage to stay sober for a few hours?” Meredith’s mouth turned down. “It’s your job to host the visitors.”

“And again I say, I didn’t invite them.”

“It’s customary in Lilaria for people to stop by the deceased’s home and offer their respects.” I said the words as calmly as possible. “When a person of title passes away, the royal family always comes to pay their respects.”

“Please.” Meredith said the word quietly. “If we can just get through the next couple of days, everything will be fine.”

“Leave me be, Meredith.” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “I have to bury my father tomorrow and if I need a little drink to get through it, so be it.”

She froze in place, her eyes the only indication of her anger. “Do what you want, just be sober enough to help carry the casket in the morning.”

“Who the hell decided to do the funeral in the morning?” He tipped his drink back. “Why wasn’t I consulted?”