Read Online The Princess and the Duke by Allison Leigh - Free Book Online Page A

announced brightly.
    “You didn’t eat a thing.” Her mother turned toward her, chiding. A queen she may be, but she still fussed over her brood.
    To satisfy Marissa, Meredith grabbed a piece of toast from the basket on the table and tucked it between her teeth as she gathered her briefcase and purse.
    “Meredith.” The King shook his head slightly and sat at the head of the table. “Really.”
    With her hands free again, she removed the toast from her mouth. “I’ve got to run by Penwyck Memorial to pick up some stuff for the children’s center opening.”
    “See you at dinner?”
    “Of course.” Meredith smiled at her mother, though it felt a little forced. Where else would she be? She hadn’t had cause to have dinner out in ages unless it was for some official function.
    Then, disgusted with her wave of self-pity, she hurried out to the drive where her car was waiting. Pitching her handfuls onto the seat beside her, she slid into the little roadster and set off with a roar of the engine.
    Oh, she really did loathe being late.
    The thought was still circling in her head an hour later when she finally sailed through the secured entrance of the Royal Intelligence Institute.
    The sight of her secretary sitting behind the reception desk brought her up short. “Lillian, how many years of newspapers do we have on record?”
    “Two years on paper. Twenty on microfilm.”
    Meredith nodded. Perfect. Juggling the strap of her briefcase and her narrow envelope purse, she stopped at the coffee stand and filled her cup, overflowing it on the first try and burning her thumb.
    Lillian half jumped from her post at Meredith’s gasp. “Are you all right?”
    Meredith waved her back. Her mind still seemed to be barely firing, and she had a vicious headache. “Just clumsy. I hate being late.”
    “I hardly think anyone will fire you for a few minutes,” Lillian said dryly.
    Meredith smiled. Lillian was correct, of course. Noone at the Royal Intelligence Institute would dream of commenting over her tardiness. But Meredith took pride in being well qualified for her position. She took pride in doing well.
    Which did not include strolling into the office forty-seven minutes late. She should probably have given tea with her mother a miss. That would have shaved off about ten minutes, at least.
    “Is there something you’d like me to retrieve for you?”
    Meredith dragged her thoughts together with an effort. The newspapers. “Oh, no, Lillian. I can do it. Just something I’m sort of curious about.”
    “You’re certain it isn’t this you’re curious about?” Lillian held out her issue of that day’s paper. The front page was consumed with coverage of Megan’s wedding. A dozen photos, at least, followed the headlines, many of them not focused on the bridal couple at all.
    Anastasia and Owen commandeered their share of pictures, and Meredith—well, Meredith was caught boldly in the act of kissing Pierceson Prescott during the wedding ceremony. Next to that damning photo was a long-distance shot of her standing on the terrace alongside him, their hands very nearly touching atop the stone ledge. The captions beneath the pair of photos speculated whether the eldest princess was contemplating romance with the elusive Duke of Aronleigh.
    “Darned long-distance lenses,” Meredith murmured, and tucked the newspaper in her briefcase. She was used to seeing her photograph in newspapers. Whether she liked it or not, it was part and parcel ofwho she was. But on top of her mother’s comments earlier, it seemed harder to take than usual. And what idiot had allowed cameras to be part of the wedding ceremony, anyway? Was nothing sacred anymore?
    She realized her secretary was watching her curiously. “I want to look up the accounts of my uncle’s death,” she admitted, scrambling for composure.
    “Something in particular you’re looking for?”
    “No.” Meredith smiled at the woman and turned to head up the corridor to the