“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Portia said, tugging discreetly at Tav’s sleeve. He kept his gaze on David as he navigated his way to his seat.

The door to the parlor opened and Ms. Baker rushed over to David. She leant close to his ear and whispered something, then stood beside his chair.

“I’m guessing this is the Maury moment?” Portia asked. She sipped her tea.

“Maury?” Leslie asked.

“It’s a talk show where women go on and get paternity tests done, dear,” Francis said. “Quite amusing. And yes, the Duke of Edinburgh was indeed the father.”

Portia choked back an inappropriate laugh. It was true. This whole wild situation was real and she had gotten Tavish into this.

“How much do you want then?” David asked, steepling his hands before him. When Tavish didn’t answer, David made a sound of irritation. “To go away. How much do you want to go away?”

“Are you trying to buy me off?” He didn’t sound angry about it, and Portia realized this might work out perfectly. Tavish needed money and didn’t really want the aggravation and duties of the title. A payoff wasn’t exactly legit, but it would solve one problem and prevent others. Tav might find it much preferable to a life spent dealing with men like David, and Portia wouldn’t judge him in the slightest.

“Of course I am,” David said. “Come now, do you have the slightest idea what being a member of the peerage entails?”

Tavish shifted uncomfortably. “I’m a fast learner.”

David scoffed. “There are things that can’t be learned, Mr. McKenzie. For example, you look good in a suit and can drink your tea without slurping, but do you know how to give a formal toast? Do you know the events for the season—which is already in swing, I’ll have you know—the dress code for each event, the strategic social and business import of each event?” David’s nostrils flared. “And that’s just the beginning. I’ve trained my entire life for this role, waited and watched and prepared. I’m from this world, and I understand what’s expected of me and what the people I represent need.”

Tav was nodding along, and David could have shut up, but he didn’t. Apparently, he was just getting started.

“I know what they don’t need, too. As if this country isn’t dealing with enough trash washing up on our shores. Just imagining the insult of the Queen having to share Holyrood with you in a few weeks makes me ill. Of you presenting her with the crown jewels and standing by her side at the garden party. Atrocious. I can’t allow some bastard of a refugee whore to sweep in and undo everything I’ve worked for!” David’s mouth snapped shut, as if he hadn’t meant to let out all that bile but it had spewed forth of its own accord.

Portia jumped to her feet.

“Mr. Dudgeon—”

Tav’s gentle grip around her arm stopped her. He stood so that he was beside her.

“I regret that I’m going to have to turn down any offer you make,” he said calmly. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers to get the process of turning over the title and all it entails to its rightful owner—me. We have another engagement, so we’ll be leaving. Thank you for the hospitality.”

He looked down at Portia. “Shall we go?”

She didn’t know the etiquette for basically saying “fuck you” and flouncing, so she executed her most ostentatious curtsy in David’s direction.

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon,” she said with a bat of her eyelashes, then she and Tav strode toward the door and out into the hallway.

“Are you okay?” she asked, placing her hand on his lower back. He stiffened, but then sighed and relaxed just before she was about to pull away.

There was a loud crash from the room they’d exited, echoing down the hall.

“Better than Davey, I suppose.”

“I thought maybe you’d take the money. You said you weren’t sure you even wanted this.”

“I did consider it. It would have been a huge payday with no work required from me. But then I saw the look on his face when he said refugee. Now I know where I’ve seen this git’s face before.” Tavish sneered. “He’s been in the papers putting pressure on MPs to come down harsher on migrants. Trying to get them to cut back on legal immigration, too.”

“He can’t make them do anything though, right? It’s all talk?” She was pretty sure the Duke of Edinburgh had no voting powers. It was a royal dukedom, but like much of the Monarchy, the power was symbolic.

“No. But he can present himself as the face of Scotland and pressure the people who do. He can get in all the papers with all the historical weight a title like ‘Royal Duke’ holds. He can talk to the bloody Queen. If I can stop one man who thinks about other humans that way from holding any kind of power, I have to.”

The only sound after that was the sound of their shoes tapping on the buffed tile floors, and the little voice in her head reminding her that she was in way over her head. They kept walking even when they got out of the palace, past stores and down cobblestone streets. They’d gone a couple of blocks before Tavish had even realized it.

“Thank you,” he finally said as they waited for their SuperLift. He even managed a grin. “I know Davey was scared I was gonna run him through, but I think you were the one giving that serious thought.”