Epilogue #2
It’s with no small amount of satisfaction that I see the past two years have taken their toll on Lord Porter.
After his resignation from Parliament, he only narrowly escaped criminal charges for his role in the insider trading scheme for which his son is currently doing time.
Porter Capital, the diamond of his empire, is no more, dissolved and sold off in parts to the same firms he was once in competition with.
Ben clears his throat and rests both hands atop the table, waiting for Porter to retake his seat before continuing. “I have two members of the King’s Council here with me today. Allow me to introduce my brother, Prince Leopold, and one of my most trusted advisers, Mr. Damien Mallory.”
A muscle leaps in Porter’s jaw as he stares at me.
“Actually, I’ve encountered Mr. Mallory before.
I employed him. Briefly.” The words ring with feeble bravado, and I have to bite back a laugh.
He hasn’t changed. This is exactly the sort of posturing he utilized during our first meeting at The Lord’s Club.
“A few years back, yes,” I confirm calmly, reclining in my chair.
“Quite the ascension, from managing security to advising the king,” Porter sneers. “I would love to hear how this came about. These things don’t often happen without considerable connections.”
Before I can respond to this, however, Ben lets out a low, impatient noise. “We aren’t here to discuss Mr. Mallory’s employment history, Lord Porter. I summoned you here in regard to your peerage.”
The mention of his title has Porter’s attention immediately. Abandoning his pursuit of me, he rounds on my brother, his jaw tight. “Of course, Your Highness, my apologies.”
To my right, Ben tilts his head, considering the man before us.
Despite his reservations about the advisability of this gift for Blair, it’s clear my brother has decided Leo was quite right when he said the asshole deserves it, and is now a wholehearted participant.
“I believe the Porter title was originally bestowed by my great, great-grandfather on yours. A gift given for his dedication and loyalty to the crown.”
What a dignified way of saying he’s the descendant of an ass kisser.
“It has been one of the greatest honors of my life, Your Highness,” Porter boasts, but I can sense wariness in his tone for the first time.
Ben does nothing to settle his sudden apprehension. “As you are undoubtedly aware, in Stelland, peerages such as yours are settled at the discretion of the monarch. It is my right to give them, and to take them away… when the occasion calls for it.”
There is no possible way Porter has missed the proverbial writing on the wall, but he seems determined to remain calm and not react. Stiffly, he inclines his head, never once taking his eyes off his king. “I am aware of that, yes.”
“It is a considerable responsibility, and not one I take lightly. However, considering your recent conduct—”
Abandoning the pretense of civility, Porter cuts across him, nostrils flaring. “I have not been charged with a crime.”
“Your heir has,” Ben counters. “And I’m afraid to say, your conduct is not up to the standard I would like to see in an individual who represents the crown.
This meeting is merely a formality. I have already submitted a formal order to Parliament, which strips you of your title, peerage, and all associated honors. ”
With a snarl, Porter is on his feet, his chair grinding noisily over the wood floor.
“This isn’t about Cedric or my conduct,” he seethes, jabbing a finger in my direction.
“This is about him, and my traitorous daughter. They want the title, is that it? You’d like to strip me of my birthright and give it to King Fabian’s bastard? ”
At this, Ben hesitates. “Actually, I hadn’t thought of that.” He glances at me, a glint in his eye. “Do you want it?”
I require exactly no time to think it over. “Nah.”
“Alright, then.” He turns back to Porter, smiling blandly, and wholly unbothered by the fury radiating off the man before us.
“It appears Mr. Mallory isn’t interested.
However, I’m afraid it changes nothing, as your conduct and your heir’s conviction are the deciding factor here, not my personal loyalties. ”
Porter sneers. “If you think I won’t go to the press about him—”
“You could,” I concede with a polite, unaffected smile.
“Unfortunately, when Blair dispensed with her interest in the Porter family holdings, you insisted she sign a non-disclosure agreement. She did so, but only after her attorney requested a slight modification”—I lean forward, adrenaline rushing through my system as I stare into his icy eyes—“that you needed to sign one, too.”
Incensed, Porter glares at me, his chest heaving. “I have no intention of bringing my daughter into this.”
“Your daughter is my wife. There is no possible way to bring the hammer down on me without doing the same to her. By all means, you’re welcome to attempt it, but if the NDAs are invalidated… well,” I chuckle, rising as well, “you have a lot more to hide than I do, and it won’t change the outcome.”
We stare at one another until Porter’s expression contorts into a twisted sneer. “Funny. I truly believed my daughter could not possibly disappoint me more.”
He’s trying to provoke me, and for the briefest moment, it almost works.
Instead, I think of my wife, and I smile.
“Your disappointing daughter has done more to help her community in two years than you have in your entire life. She is currently enjoying lunch with the queen, while you are about to be thrown out of the palace. There’s only one disappointment here, Mr. Porter. ”
Ignoring the furious hiss at the reminder of his new status, I step out from behind the table, following my brothers out of the room without a backward glance.
The entire encounter can’t have taken longer than ten minutes, but I feel like a new man as we start back toward the gardens, pausing only to direct the guards to see the former Lord Porter out.
“I have to admit, that was immensely satisfying,” Ben concedes cheerfully, after we’ve left the conference room well behind.
Leo nods, grinning from ear to ear. “It really was. Do you have any more revenge to enact on your wife’s behalf, Dam? If so, count me in.”
Pushing open the door to the garden, my attention is drawn immediately to Blair.
She’s standing amidst the roses, her chin tilted up, and her lashes lowered to her cheeks, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.
As though sensing eyes on her, she turns, meeting my gaze from across the garden, and my heart swells as her face splits in a mischievous smile.
“I have no idea,” I admit, and honestly, I couldn’t be less bothered.
My wife has been a surprise from the start, and I can’t wait to see what she has in store for us next.