It was so like Armand to give him instructions, but the relief in his brother’s voice was profound.
“No.” Sending her away wasn’t open to negotiation. Neither was canceling the visit to Belaria. “We cannot let them drive us underground. I will not stop living my life for them. I already gave up five years under the presumption I needed to.”
“Sending her away is a reasonable response?—”
“If I were feeling reasonable, I would agree with you. I am not. If I send her away now, I risk losing her entirely.”
“You chance getting her killed if you keep her there.” He understood the tightness in Armand’s voice wasn’t anger, but fear. While Sebastian shared the emotion, his worry went deeper.
“She thinks I’m keeping her as a mistress. I cannot let her feel discarded. I can’t.” Surely his brother wouldn’t force him to decide between his family and Meredith, not now. Not after everything. “Do not make me choose, brother.”
“Have you told her?” The truth? The whys behind every step—and apparently his missteps? That he loved her above all others?
“No,” he admitted. “But I am planning to.” As soon as he got off the phone. Meredith Blake was not his mistress and, by God, she would know it.
“Sebastian, be careful.” Armand’s tone changed. “Once you make this decision, it changes everything for her.”
“It’s not only mine to make anymore.” It hadn’t ever truly been, but he’d thought she understood. Only it wasn’t the case—the misunderstanding bothered him more and more.
“Be safe. We’re going to handle this. You take care of your lady. I would very much like to meet her.”
If only wishing made it so.“Take care of Anna and Alyx. How many papers have the pregnancy?”
“Only the online gossip columns, but it won’t be long now.” So, the ticking clock on the world’s speculation had run out, and they were not fully prepared. The paparazzi were only a piece of the puzzle and more nuisance than anything. When Belaria learned, the royalists would take it to heart. Therein lay the real problem.
“And George?”
“We’ve already made arrangements and set up a new name for him. He will not enjoy being out of the limelight, but we’ve impressed it upon him. Mother was entertaining our cousins, and they are all going to take a very long trip to the country house.” Armand didn’t have to say the very private and secure country house, since Sebastian understood the decision.
“Is that wise?” Sebastian frowned.
“I do not think they are targets. It’s the family name they want to wipe out, which means they’ll likely focus on the three of us and Anna.”
“And Meredith…”
“Yes.” Armand agreed, and they were both silent for a long moment. “Sebastian, did you truly think I would order you not to see her?”
“Brother, you were very unhappy for a long time. You saw only political ramifications and the potential fallout. Also, you did not trust women.” Sebastian hadn’t enjoyed his brother’s estrangement from Anna. He’d been a miserable bastard.
“Perhaps you’re right.” Armand’s admission didn’t make Sebastian feel better. “For what it’s worth, I advise caution. If she cannot?—”
“I know.” He didn’t want to discuss what it would mean if Meredith rejected his life. It would break him. “Keep me informed, and do not cancel the Belaria trip. Now, more than ever, we need to show them they cannot hunt us to extinction. If we run, brother, we will never stop.”
He was damn tired of running. They spoke for a few minutes more. Sebastian drank a cup of the coffee and picked at one of the sandwiches. Once they’d disconnected, he took the time to check on O’Connor’s condition. He’d promised her he would, after all.
Leaving his office, he said nothing to Vidal and the nurse excused herself the moment he stepped into his suite. Meredith sat on the bed, a blanket draped over her legs. She’d showered and changed into one of his shirts.
When the others left, he crossed the room and studied her. Some of her color returned, thanks to the shower he supposed, and she didn’t look quite so rocky, but he wanted to be sure. “How are you?”
“You were right about the shock. The doctor gave me something to calm my nerves.” Her smile was wan, and she fisted the blanket. “I ate some of the soup, but they brought more food. A proper meal because I wanted to eat with you.”
He nodded slowly. “Good. Are you up to talking or would you prefer to eat and sleep?”
She gave him a long, uncertain look and bit her lower lip. “You’re angry with me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Extremely,” he admitted. “But it can wait. You need to rest.” Her health came before all else.
“We need to talk,” she admitted.
