Sated.
Not walk-of-shaming it through the unfamiliar living quarters of the royal family.
I was tempted to text her again, ask her to go online and buy me a ticket out of the country so I could leave with her in the morning. My thumbs were even hovering over the letters as I thought everything through.
Seb might be a runaway duke, but I wasn’t a runaway intern.
As much as I wanted to run away from this entire thing, I’d have a tiny passenger with me wherever I went. A tiny passenger I needed to take care of, whether Seb was part of that parental picture or not.
If I left my internship, it would delay me getting my master’s. Right now, the timing for that was perfect. I’d be heavily pregnant when my diploma was placed in my hands, but at least my passenger would still be safely inside me, not screaming bloody murder for food every three hours while I studied in the spring.
No… I couldn’t wait another semester. Now was better.
And now meant staying here.
Now meant facing what was in front of me. For good or bad.
I rounded a corner and came face to face with a guard standing sentry by the elevator. His face was carefully blank as he asked, “Can I help you, Miss Costas?”
He knew my name? How?
What did I say? That I was looking for The Runaway Duke? That I was running away myself? Where was I even going?
Seb.
I wanted to find Seb.
But that just made me seem pathetic.
“I’ll just call the elevator and be going,” I said to the guard.
He pushed the button for me, then nodded as the doors opened and I stepped inside. He hadn’t been judgmental, but I thought I could see curiosity in his expression. Probably because the duke had gone running from that same suite only minutes before?
Another sting as I remembered yet again the look on Sebastianos’s face.
Not that I could really blame him.
He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted any of the responsibility tossed into his lap.
Which wasn’t fair. Some logical place in my brain that wasn’t sick and exhausted knew that I was being unfair. Besides, I’d had a little time to process this whole thing. The poor guy had only had his world rocked fifteen minutes ago.
He needed fresh air. Well, so did I.
Maybe later, we could talk this through as reasonable adults.
When the elevator opened again, I walked faster, keeping my head down as I ducked into hallways and passageways, remembering how to get to the front from this part of the palace.
Keeping my chin up as I rushed past a guard station, I was relieved that nobody I recognized was working and that this route didn’t take me past Seb’s offices. Before long, things looked familiar again, and I was leaving through the side door that I used to come to work every day.
I practically ran to the bus stop and kept myself together for as long as I could, finally letting a tear or two fall as I stared out the window facing away from the palace as the bus drove away.
Later, as I sat on the edge of my bed and cried with my best friend, I tried to get to the bottom of what really hurt the most.
And the truth was, at this point, it wasn’t even hurt at Sebastianos’s reaction. It wasn’t like I could have expected him to sweep me into his arms and proclaim his undying love. Sure, I really liked him, but things were so new for us it wasn’t fair to put any sort of faith into him for my future.
“You can come back with me if you want,” Jenn said, her arm around my shoulder. “So what if you have to graduate in the spring? I’ll help with the baby while you study and go to class. We’ll make it work.”
It was so tempting. Go back to San Diego. To my home. The place most familiar to me.
But if I left, it would be completely heartbreaking since I’d been so close to finishing my master’s degree and getting to work on projects that were really important to me. Sure, I was taking pictures of golden retrievers now, and that wasn’t exactly my passion, but I’d made such a good connection to Thierry, and I still had so much to learn from him.
I was so close to finishing this chapter of my life on an amazingly high note, and it’d basically come crashing down around me because I’d been careless.
Now, I would have to pay that price.
I put my hand to my stomach. Not that you’re a terrible price, I mentally told the kidney bean sized human just in case it could hear my most inner thoughts.
“I’m so close,” I said, my stomach churning again. I’d stopped crying but the nausea still roiled.
Jenn was hung up on the fact that Sebastianos had left me sitting on the floor. “I just want to find him and kick his long-legged ass,” she growled, firmly in my court. “I never took him for a chickenshit.”
“He’s not a chickenshit. He just needed time.”
Why was I defending him?
Because I hoped I was right.
I remembered a good friend who’d gotten pregnant our junior year at San Diego State. Her boyfriend had quit school and moved to Texas when he found out.
“There are no open seats on my flight,” Jenn told me, and I looked over at her, surprised. She lifted a shoulder. “I checked just in case you did decide to go back. Like I said, no open seat, but they said they could put you on standby.”
I looked at the clock. Jenn’s flight was almost exactly twenty-four hours from now. That gave me nearly a full day to decide what I wanted to do.
Jenn was right. Whether I graduated in December or in May, I could make it work. Maybe I should put the ball in Sebastianos’s court. If he didn’t contact me today, that would be my sign to leave.
Actually, the more I thought of it, the more I thought that might be for the best.
Pregnancy was a stressful time under the best of circumstances. If I stayed, Seb might feel pressured to be with me. And how would Thierry even feel about having a knocked-up intern waddling around the palace?
I could already imagine the stares. The curious questions.
And Aunt Hermione might be too ashamed of me to allow me to stay with her.
I plastered my hand over my face… Aunt Hermione. She was away for the weekend visiting her granddaughter. Could I just up and leave without a proper goodbye? I could leave a note and call her later, to explain.
Gah… so much to think about. So many people to consider when all I wanted to do was curl into a fetal position, wrapping my body around the only tiny thing that mattered.
“You look exhausted,” Jenn said. “Why don’t you get some sleep? If Seb calls, he calls. If he doesn’t, you can decide what to do then.”
I was really tired. So very tired.
Laying down on my bed, I hugged my phone to my chest and closed my eyes, nodding sleepily at her. “Promise to wake me if he comes by.”
She covered me up. “Of course I will.”
My bedroom door clicked closed even as sleep claimed me.
***
“Iliana…”
A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me awake. I cracked an eye open to find Jenn sitting beside me. It took me a long moment to remember where I was. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just wanted to let you know that I got a call from the travel agency. Two seats opened up on tonight’s flight.”
I pushed myself to my elbow. It was still daylight outside?
Had I slept a full twenty-four hours?
“What time is it?”
She smiled. “It’s still Sunday. It’s nearly four in the afternoon. You’ve slept all day.”
I blinked heavily at her. It felt like I could sleep even more. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. But back to the point. The travel agent called and said two tickets have opened up on tonight’s flight. Not the morning flight. Tonight.” She was speaking slowly, like maybe that would force the words to break through the fog surrounding my brain.
Swiping at my gritty eyes, I asked, “Did Seb come by?”
She frowned. “No, he didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Picking up my phone, I pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Damn. My battery must have died.
“When would we have to leave for the airport?” I asked, still completely unsure of what to do.
Her frown grew deeper. “We’d have to leave within the hour. I’m sorry.”
I sat up, pushing my hair from my face. I felt better, I realized. And I was starving.
A glass of water stood on my nightstand, and I took a grateful drink, nearly sighing as the liquid cascaded down my crying jag raw throat.
When it was half empty, I sat it down and looked at my friend. “Tell me what to do.”
She took my hand, so much sympathy in her eyes that fresh tears sprang into mine. “I can’t do that, Il. This decision is on you. All I can say is that I support you no matter what. Whether you come home tonight or tomorrow, or decide to stay until December, I’ll be there for you. Always.”
I didn’t miss the fact that she’d left out one option. Even if you marry the duke and live happily ever after.
She hadn’t left that out by accident. Jenn was a realist. She wore no rose-colored glasses when she looked at the world.
She didn’t think Seb wanted me… us.
I didn’t want my best friend to be right. I didn’t want to leave.
But maybe I should.
Not only would it take the pressure of living in a strange country off my shoulders, it could give him room to decide what he wanted without the pressure of me being in the palace every day.
Or maybe he needed the pressure?
Gah. Gah. Gah. Gah. Gah.
What to do?
“Do you want to leave tonight?” I asked her, but I already knew her answer before she nodded. She had originally wanted a nighttime departure so she could sleep through most of the flight.
She squeezed my hand. “That would be my preference, but I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
And that was the ultimate question.
What did I want to do?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sebastianos
On the whole, I considered myself to be a pretty self-aware human being, but dammit, learning I was going to be a father had felt like a noose around my neck.
No… I’d been born with a noose around my neck, and the damn thing had only grown tighter after the death of my father.
After learning about the pregnancy, I hadn’t been able to breathe. I hadn’t been able to swallow. All the blood had been squeezed from my brain as the thick ropes of responsibility had grown tighter and tighter.
But slowly, after I’d walked the halls of the palace and then the gardens, clarity had set in. Well, not exactly clarity, but the initial panic had subsided, and I’d forced myself to ask and answer questions, knowing that the very act would help release me from the emotional turmoil I’d found myself in.
Was I ready to be a dad? Not exactly, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t get ready.
Was this the circumstance in which I wanted to have a child? Again, no, but I was willing to bet that Iliana hadn’t written her life story out with this particular plot twist either.
Did I want to raise a child in the fishbowl of the palace? No, but other more popular royals had done so successfully. Hell, the future king of England seemed to balance having three children rather well.
Was it easy for him or his duchess? Probably not.
Was it worth it to him? Although I had no ability to judge that from a personal standpoint, I’d imagine the answer was probably so.
Cassia was much smaller than England. My country didn’t have the intense global scrutiny that the United Kingdom did. So, my job would be much easier. The more I thought on it, the more I realized I’d make it so.
Yes, I could keep a child safe and protected… and loved.
And then you’d never be alone.
Emotion clogged my throat as I remembered Penelope’s sweet little voice saying those very words to me not long ago.
No, I hadn’t acted nobly when I’d left my apartment, needing some air. I’d acted human. I was fucking human with human reactions and emotions. Stiff upper lips could fuck themselves in the ass.
I could do this. No, I would do this.
I could do this with Iliana, the woman I’d been so immediately attracted to. The woman who was never very far from my thoughts.
We didn’t know each other well. We’d put the cart before the horse, or however that saying went. But that didn’t mean we wouldn’t grow to know each other. It didn’t mean that we couldn’t have a happy life.
Uncle Demetrius and Aunt Helena had barely known each other when they married yet had managed a happy life until her death.
Her death from childbirth.
Adrenaline surged through my body at the thought, and I forced myself to take a deep breath.
Aunt Helena had already suffered numerous miscarriages and stillbirths. She’s suffered through an emergency caesarean to give Penelope life. Even after all her reproductive organs had been scraped from her body following the birth, an embolism had claimed her just as she was beginning to get her strength back.
I remembered the pain Uncle Dem went through at her loss. Aunt Helena’s funeral had been a State occasion, with dignitaries around the world flying in to pay their respects. Uncle Dem had been forced to keep his chin up, but I’d seen him in the privacy of his quarters.
It had been bad.
So terribly bad.
Then my buddy died in my own arms not long afterwards, and that had sent me over the edge. After that, holding Penelope had kept me sane, but I’d promised myself that I’d never open myself up to ever having that much pain.
Now, here I was, opening myself up to that much possible pain.
And that much possible joy.
I had been sitting on the bench in the king’s rose garden when I’d realized that the joy could be so much greater than the fear. The very bench on which Iliana had placed her jacket and bag on the day I found her taking bumblebee pictures.
With more clarity, I’d returned to my quarters only to find that Iliana was gone. A ghost. And I had only myself to blame.
I’d called her immediately, but the call had only gone straight to voicemail. I’d left her a message, then another an hour later along with several text messages.
I’d gone in search of Nate, hoping for a little best friend advice, only to remember that he was leaving today and wouldn’t be returning until Monday evening, hence my needing to take his place at the security council meeting.
Once the clock had ticked past noon, I’d driven to Costas Manor where the door had been opened by a nearly deaf butler who had to be almost a hundred years old.
Even at his increased age, he recognized me immediately. “Your Grace.”
I waited for him to straighten back into a standing position before nodding. “Forgive my unexpected visit. Might I have a word with Miss Iliana Costas?”
He blinked at me but otherwise kept his face carefully neutral. “I’m afraid Miss Costas is napping. Do you require that I wake her?”
I wanted to tell him to, hell yes, wake her. Right that second.
I wanted to rush past him and wake her myself. Or just crawl into bed with her and surrender to subconsciousness beside her.
But she’d been so very sick this morning. I’d heard you should never wake a sleeping baby. Did that same saying hold true for waking sleeping women pregnant with a baby?
“No, let her rest. But please let her know I came by as soon as she wakes. Ask her to contact me immediately.”
The cataracted eyes widened again. “I surely will, Your Grace.”
Driving away, my stomach had been in knots, so I’d driven down the coast, only stopping when I reached a secluded beach that was completely empty.
My security detail was probably having a heart attack about right then, but I didn’t care. They would find me soon enough.
Taking off my shoes an
d rolling up my pants, I’d walked through the sand and into the water, letting the rippling blanket of blue hypnotize me with the smell, the sounds, the rhythm of the waves lapping at my ankles.
From the beginning of time, the ocean had swept onto and away from the shore, ripping away sand and delivering it back. A give and take that was as constant as the rising sun.
A give and take as constant as death. And birth.
Glancing at my phone, I confirmed that there were no new messages from Iliana, so I continued to walk through the ankle-deep water, not even stopping when I noticed two members of my security team flank my position.
They wisely left me alone, giving me plenty of space to walk and think. When I found a sheltered cove, I sat on the rock waiting for my phone to ring.
It was two o’clock and still nothing.
By three, a member of the security team approached, carrying a bag. Without saying a word, he left it with me and wandered off to retake his position.
Lunch. Or was it dinner?
Either way, I nodded my thanks to the man as my stomach contracted with hunger. The takeout from a nearby restaurant was hearty and filling, the three glass bottles of water just enough to quench my thirst.
And still I sat…
Four o’clock came and went. Then five. Then six.
“Fuck it all to damn hell.”
Pushing to my feet, I stalked back in the direction of my car, the security team scurrying to keep up with me.
Stuffing my feet into shoes, I glared at the one who’d probably lost the bet and was approaching me.
“Your Grace—”
“Leave me the hell alone.”
His jaw tightened at my tone but he didn’t move. He was just doing his job and I damn knew it. Blowing out a breath, I shook my hands out by my sides, releasing some of the tension in my shoulders.
“I have personal business to attend to,” I told him more calmly. “You can follow me but don’t interfere. If I need assistance, I’ll ask for it. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace. We will be following closely.”
That would have to be good enough.
Hopping into my car, I sped away, the Costas Manor my intended target. But when I knocked on the door again, it wasn’t the aged butler who answered. A woman wiping her hands on an apron nearly hit the floor the moment she saw me.
Claiming My Duchess Page 17