Page 67 of Royal Trouble
He joined his father at the bar as he poured four tumblers of whisky. It had been a while since he’d drunk hard liquor during the day, but if the king was pouring, he was drinking. He took two of the glasses and delivered one to his mother.
“Well,” she said, accepting the drink primly. “Now that we’ve gotten the business out of the way, perhaps we can move onto more pleasant topics, such as William and Elena’s wedding. It’s so rare the whole family is together in one place these days.”
Her gaze swept the room, and Liam seemed to make a point of studying the whisky their father had handed him before returning to his unofficial throne behind the desk.
“What could possibly be left to discuss?” Liam asked, sounding bored. “We’ve talked about the wedding ad nauseam. There can’t possibly be a single detail left to plan, and if there is, feel free to make the decision. Lena and I don’t bloody care. We just want to be married.”
Throwing his brother a bone, Xander asked, “When’s Pippa arriving home?”
Technically, the whole family wouldn’t be together in one location until she made an appearance. He hadn’t seen his younger sister in months, but despite whatever chaos she was raining down on their neighbors to the south, there was no way she’d miss the royal wedding. Pippa was a lot of things, but insolent wasn’t one of them.
At the mention of Pippa, his mother’s lips flattened just the tiniest bit, the lines at the corners of her mouth growing more pronounced. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but he’d been on the receiving end of that look most of his life and knew from experience it meant Her Majesty wasn’t happy with the youngest Stanley heir. Had Pippa done something to earn their mother’s ire or was it possible the queen was just annoyed her youngest offspring remained out of reach and free of her meddling?
Either way, he couldn’t blame Pippa for extending her gap year.
“Pippa will be arriving soon,” the queen said, giving the vaguest possible answer. Which meant she had no idea when her daughter would be showing up. Interesting. “I’m more concerned with your date for the wedding. I’m told you have yet to confirm your plus-one.”
Bollocks.
He should’ve seen this coming. She’d been badgering him about his chosen guest for weeks. Initially he’d put her off because he’d had no intention of bringing a date, but now…
“This is unacceptable,” she continued and sipped her whisky nonchalantly. “You do realize the wedding is in less than two weeks?”
She was right. He should’ve taken care of this weeks ago. Had he waited too long?
“Palace security is working around the clock. I daresay it’s too late to add another guest, but we can’t have you attending stag. Perhaps you could escort Lady Dupont? I understand she’s currently without a proper escort.”
Annnd…there it was. His mother’s whole purpose for joining them this morning, to scheme an ill-fated match with Lotte. Did she truly not realize what a viper she’d be inviting into their house?
Apparently not. Too bad he’d rather cut off his dick than be tethered to Lotte for the rest of his life.
Xander sipped his whisky, stalling. Beside him, Liam said nothing, just lifted a brow as if to say,Get on with it already.
“Actually, I’m planning to ask Everly Wilson to be my date for the wedding.”
The queen’s brow wrinkled. “Who the hell is Everly Wilson?”
Fuck. How could such a simple question be so bloody complicated? Now he remembered why he preferred to attend these family meetings inebriated. Things were far simpler when he was pissed.
“Everly and I were at school together. We reconnected at the Calhoun-Donahue wedding.”
There. Simple, true, vague. It was the perfect response.
“Wilson,” his mother mused, swirling the whisky in her glass. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
She turned to her husband, but he wasn’t paying attention. He’d moved onto other business, less concerned with Xander’s choice of dates than whatever issues had been dumped on his desk.
The queen’s eyes grew wide, and she turned slowly, facing Xander straight on. “Please tell me you aren’t planning to bring the Duke of Lennox’s bastard child to your brother’s wedding?”
His temper flared, and the entire world narrowed to that moment, red swimming at the edges of his vision. He couldn’t say what angered him more. The bastard reference. The implication that Everly wasn’t good enough to escort him to the wedding. Or his mother’s absolute hypocrisy given the rumors of her own infidelity.
“I will bring whoever I damn well please to the wedding, and you’d do well not to speak of Everly like that in my presence again.” He rose, the hand holding his whisky tumbler shaking with rage. “Everly is smart, beautiful, and funny. And no one in this family has any room to pass judgment on her, least of all based on the actions of her parents.”
He slammed the tumbler down on his father’s desk, breathing hard. He loved his mother, but he would not stand idly by while she disparaged Everly for things that were entirely out of her control. He’d made that mistake before, and he would not make it again.
Beside him, Liam cleared his throat and rose to his feet, clapping Xander on the shoulder. “Everly is a lovely choice. Please let her know that both Lena and I look forward to seeing her again at the wedding.”
Their mother’s left eye twitched, and she turned to her husband. “Do you have nothing to say about this?”