Epilogue

“What are you doing?” Paul asked as he leaned and looked at Reginald’s laptop then frowned at what looked like live aerial footage. “What are you doing?” He asked louder and Reginald smiled brightly as he shut it.

“Nothing at all,” he said as he set it on the bed in front of him them uncrossed and recrossed his legs. His cheeks puffed out as he looked at the window. “Can we go for a walk later?” He asked and Paul nodded as he highlighted a typo.

“I’m sorry. I just need to finish this and get it submitted and then I’m not answering my email or the phone until I get back to D.C. on Monday,” he promised and Reginald shrugged as he opened his computer again then looked up as Lavender tapped on the door. Paul would never adequately express his gratitude but he couldn’t wait until Reginald was ready to travel again. Commuting back and forth from Lake Cliff to Washington D.C. or whichever city he was working in that week was exhausting and Paul still couldn’t shake that chainsaw sensation when Lavender was in the room. It didn’t help knowing people in Moscow were still picking pieces of Vladimir Petrovich out of the bricks and pavement. He’d been sprayed across a city block and all that was left of him was his screaming head in a wood chipper.

“May I?” Lavender asked and Reginald shrugged again.

“It’s your home,” he said and Lavender bowed slightly before he strolled into the room. His hands clasped behind his back as he went to the window.

“You need to go home, Reginald,” he said gently yet firmly and Paul’s head swung toward Reginald. He was suddenly anxious and impatient as Reginald pinched the bridge of his nose.

“With all due respect, sir,” he sighed. “Stay the fuck out of it.” Paul’s eyes flared as he looked back at Lavender. He laughed softly as he turned from the window.

“Something isn’t right and you know it,” he said and Reginald shook his head.

“I don’t care.”

“I ignored your instincts and look at how much it nearly cost us. Why are you ignoring them now?” Lavender asked as his eyes held Reginald’s and Paul cleared his throat.

“This sounds like something I might need to hear about,” he said and Lavender nodded.

“I think it’s time for you to ask him again,” he said then offered Paul a wink before heading for the door. Reginald pulled a face.

“Stay the fuck out of it,” he repeated loudly and Lavender waved over his shoulder as he left. Paul waited for Reginald to stop glaring at the door then gave him a hard look.

“Start talking now and zero bullshit,” he warned and Reginald looked mutinous.

“This is bullshit,” he protested and Paul fell back against the headboard and crossed his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles as he got comfortable.

“We can sit here just like this all weekend,” he threatened and Reginald threw his hands up and groaned dramatically like a teenage girl who’d lost her phone privileges.

“My father died,” he said and Paul’s brows pulled together. He’d kind of assumed from the nature of Reginald’s comments, the two times he mentioned him.

“When?” He asked and Reginald’s eyes swept upwards.

“I’m not completely sure but I might have been in a séance with a mambo at the time,” he said and Paul’s eyes blinked rapidly before he decided to set that aside for later.

“If you’re not sure, how do you know he’s dead?” He said and Reginald forced out a long, slow breath as his lips pursed.

“Well there’s really only one way a man becomes a marquis,” he stated and Paul would have fallen out of the bed if he wasn’t practically laying down. He probably would have fainted if he was standing.

“Jesus Christ,” he muffled as he pressed his hands against his face. “Was that the wrong thing he’s talking about or is there something else?” Paul asked as he lowered his hands and Reginald rolled his eyes.

“He was probably murdered,” he grumbled and Paul gasped as he sat up.

“Why do you think so?” He asked and Reginald shook his head and gestured vaguely.

“Because he was a boor and a cunt and anyone would want to murder him after ten minutes in his presence?” He offered and Paul squeezed his eyes shut.

“Why do you think it was murder and not a natural death?” He asked.

“My father was a wealthy man when he died,” Reginald said and Paul blinked back at him.

“Wouldn’t that make sense for a marquis?” He asked and Reginald’s lips pulled tight.

“These days, not necessarily,” he said. “It’s especially remarkable in my father’s case because the only thing he ever thought I’d be good for was marrying an heiress. In fact, he made it very clear everything was riding on me marrying well enough to pull the estate out of bankruptcy. My family’s become less and less solvent as the British Empire buckled. It’s fucking expensive to keep estates running,” he explained. “My grandfather was completely worthless and sold most of the farms and land holding up what was left and put it up his nose or on thoroughbreds. Unfortunately, he was an even more worthless businessman and horses are hideously expensive and an iffy investment. Everything was mortgaged by the time my father inherited and we were in dire straits by the time I went to school. I still went to the best schools because you can’t marry an heiress if you don’t have the right education,” he said and Paul swore softly.

“I’m assuming there was a falling out when he found out you were gay,” he mused and Reginald raised a shoulder.

“I never really hid the fact, not that we saw each other very regularly. He called me home from school and told me he arranged a thing with some American fashion designer’s daughter. She was a wanna be reality star and marrying a young British royal would be a perfect move for her and her family would fill the estate’s coffers,” he said and Paul felt sick.

“You didn’t, obviously,” he said and Reginald snorted.

“I told him we didn’t need that. I didn’t want to be married to some celebrity slut, I wanted to be more than that. I could fix things on my own. And I’m gay. He told me to knock it off and do my duty. So, I left. I didn’t go back to school because he said he wouldn’t pay. I visited after the ancestral home was opened to the public. He was giving tours and we had a fabulous fight in the ballroom in front of a busload of tourists. I told him I had enough money to buy the entire estate ten times over and he said I was an embarrassment and a whore. I told him I was just getting started,” he said. Paul groaned as he sat up and pulled Reginald into his arms. He laid back and Reginald growled happily as he nibbled on Paul’s lips and burrowed into him. “Want to see if we can make my heart stop again?” He asked and Paul shushed him.

“We’re not done,” he said. “What about your mom?” He asked and Reginald laughed.

“My mother’s the only other human alive who could possibly have a higher blood alcohol content or be more stoned than me at any given moment,” he stated and shook his head. “She hated me from the moment I was born and would have aborted me if she had better prospects,” he added and Paul gasped.

“Why?”

“I don’t believe I’m my father’s son. I think I was a stunt that backfired and she didn’t plan to stay married to him,” he said and Paul was glad he was laying down.

“How do you know?” He asked and Reginald grinned.

“I had my suspicions. I don’t look very much like my father and aside from our habits and empty souls, my mum and I aren’t very much alike,” he said. “The mambo confirmed it.” “He is not his son.” “The marquis knows.”

“I’m never going on vacation with you,” Paul said and Reginald made a dismissive sound as he nibbled on his chin.

“We’re going someplace so remote and so decadent as soon as I’m allowed to have sex again,” he insisted and Paul ground his teeth as need, heat and love crashed into him. “When the mambo said the marquis knew who murdered Bernard Mauroy, she wasn’t just talking about me. It confirmed my father was dead but I also suspect that she was referring to more than one illegitimate son. At the time, it was terrifying but the mambo was right about Mauroy’s killer. It was the man pretending to be his son, the man I suspected. Mr. Lavender told me my father was dead a few days later, so it stands to reason the mambo was right about the rest as well,” he stated and Paul shook his head in disbelief.

“What if your mom’s changed? She’s probably worried a lot about you over the years,” he said and Reginald’s nose scrunched.

“I saw her at Claridge’s a few years ago and she recognized me,” he said.

“What did she do?” Paul asked.

“She asked if I’d pay her check. She was meant to meet a friend and was tight on cash. I declined and she told me I was always an ungrateful shit and poured her wine all over my exquisite Versace trousers. They were ruined,” Reginald complained.

“Fine. I wouldn’t worry about her either but we need to figure out if there’s a good explanation for how your father didn’t die broke and who killed him,” Paul said and Reginald looked ill.

“As happy as it makes me to hear you say “we”, I’d rather not,” he said and Paul shook his head.

“I’d rather your life wasn’t in danger,” he stated. “Lavender’s right, you can’t ignore this. We have to go back and find out what happened.” Paul caught his chin and held it until Reginald sighed dramatically.

“After we’ve had a month to ourselves in a chalet in Switzerland,” he stipulated and Paul winced. His body was very ready but…

“I’m going to have to pull every string to get time to go to England,” he warned. “A month is incredibly unrealistic.”

“I think I can pull some strings. Your director has a very young mistress and she’s quite a naughty girl,” Reginald giggled and Paul shook his head.

“That’s definitely not my mess and I’d like to retire with a pension,” he said then shivered as Reginald’s fingers trailed down his chest.

“She’s a Chinese asset and it’s so sexy, the way you think you need a pension,” he murmured as his head tilted. His breath huffed against Paul’s skin as his lips traced his jaw.

“I’ll have it looked into and I need my pension. I’m not giving up on almost sixteen years of hard work either,” he said and Reginald hummed as his teeth tugged at Paul’s earlobe.

“I’m so glad I’m marrying such a loyal, dependable, hardworking man. I’m going to take such good care of you,” he said then sucked. Paul chuckled as he pulled his head away.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath and you need to stop. You were just cleared to go for short walks,” he said and Reginald’s jaw fell open.

“You are going to ask me to marry you,” he threatened and Paul shook his head.

“Nope. I can promise you that’s never going to happen,” he said firmly and Reginald’s head pulled back.

“I beg your pardon. You’d better do the right thing, you took my virginity,” he said and Paul bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“That’s so fucking stupid.”

“My emotional virginity,” Reginald grumbled and Paul moaned sympathetically as he kissed him.

“Mine too. But I don’t want to be married to you and I’m definitely not interested in being any man’s trophy wife,” he said and Reginald looked dizzy as he blinked back at him.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck is happening right now?” He asked and Paul sighed contentedly as he rolled Reginald onto his back then captured his lips. They were unresponsive as he continued to blink up at him. Paul nipped at his lower lip then rose on his elbows.

“I’d marry a guy I could imagine buying a cute little house with. Something with a lot of rustic charm. Maybe those exposed beams and an ancient fireplace. We’d adopt some cats and we’d treat them like children and post pictures of them on our Instagrams,” he said and Reginald swallowed then licked his lips.

“You don’t want that with me?” He asked hoarsely and Paul shook his head.

“No. It’s perfect and I’d be really happy with that guy but he’s not you. That doesn’t feel like us. I think we’re so much more than that, it doesn’t matter if we’re married. Wherever I am in the world, whatever the coordinates are, my soul will be with you. If you’re not with me, if our numbers aren’t the same, I’ll always have to find you. I can’t rest and I don’t feel complete if our numbers aren’t the same,” he said and Reginald’s eyes trembled and he was completely frozen for several moments before he sniffed hard.

“You need to shut that door,” he said slowly and carefully.

“Reginald,” Paul scolded.

“You’re just going to have to be very careful because you’re going to hurt my heart even worse if I can’t taste you, at least,” he said and Paul hissed. He was in enough pain to consider that a reasonable argument.

“We won’t be able to stop,” he worried and Reginald smiled dreamily.

“I’m counting on it. We can go really slow and pretend we’re being tantric,” he suggested and Paul groaned as his head fell and his lips covered Reginald’s.

“You’re awful,” he rumbled.

“Thank you,” Reginald whispered and Paul’s eyes widened as his erection was gripped hard. “You might need a defibrillator by the time this is done though.”