#devon grey

“What?” Devon Grey exclaimed, irritated. “That’s absolutely ludicrous! This has to be some sort of scam! There’s no possible way that young man is the rightful earl!”

“He seems to have quite a bit of evidence in his favor, your grace,” the duke’s private attorney, Lucas Pembrook, said. “And he has the support of another member of your family.”

“Who?” Devon asked, standing to face him.

“Your brother, David,” Pembrook replied.

“David!” Grant cried. “Well, that proves it’s a scam, then. I’ve never known a bigger con artist that David Grey!”

“Obviously, he believes this young man represents a way of gaining control of the estate – or at least claiming a larger share than he has a right to,” Devon said. “Pembrook, you know the depth of David’s issues. You certainly can’t believe him.”

“Of course not, your grace,” the attorney said. “Unfortunately, your parents – and later, you – managed to keep your brother’s shortcomings private, so the public isn’t aware that he’s not to be trusted.”

Devon shook his head, then sighed.

“So what do you recommend?” he asked. “I can’t believe he could win in court, could he?”

“Again, your grace, he has amassed a great deal of evidence in Andrew’s favor,” Pembrook said. “Of course, you still have an advantage in that Prince Stephen remains firmly in your corner – and there’s no way they’ll get their hands on the title without his support. The estate itself, however, is another matter.”

“You mean he could potentially inherit everything except the title, then – including Buckton Hall,” Devon said, suddenly realizing how serious the situation had become. “Which would leave me with nothing.”

“Stephen won’t allow that to happen,” Grant said.

“Perhaps not,” Pembrook said. “However, just to be prudent, it might be wise to begin transferring some of your assets into offshore accounts. Not a great deal – nothing that will be missed or detected if they start looking at your books. But I assume you have some private investments that are not on the family ledgers?”

“A few, but certainly not enough,” Devon said, miserably. “But you’re right, of course. “I’ll start doing what I can to isolate what funds I can.”

“I’ll do the same,” Grant said. “I still have a good portion of my own inheritance, and they can’t touch that. It’s not much, but at least it’s a start.”

“And Matthew’s trust fund is safe, right?” Devon asked.

“It should be, yes,” Pembrook said. “So long as it is in your son’s name and not yours.”

“Good,” Devon said. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, right? They can’t possibly win, can they?”

“I plan to fight this claim with everything I have,” Pembrook said.

“Good,” Devon said. “David’s gone too far this time. Show no mercy, Pembrook. No mercy at all.”

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“Good evening, I’m Scott Dearborn and this is WBN’s News Spotlight. This evening I’m joined by the Earl of Buckland, Devon Grey, and Grant Fellowes, Viscount Perry, to discuss their recent appointment as co-chairs of the newly established Crown Commission on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion.”

“The commission, set up by Prince Stephen to recognize and celebrate diversity in Weston, will make recommendations to his royal highness – and the national assembly – regarding policies that impact traditionally underserved populations across the country. Lord Buckland, Lord Perry, welcome.”

“Thank you, Scott,” Devon replied. “We’re so thrilled to be here.”

“So I guess the first question viewers might have is why Prince Stephen would choose the two of you to head this commission?”

“Well,” Grant said. “His royal highness knows that both his cousin and I are passionate about all Westonians receiving equal treatment and privileges under the law, as well as recognizing the amazing contributions every population brings to our culture here in Weston.”

“So you’ve had discussions on the topic?” Scott asked.

“Oh, many, many times,” Devon said. “But those discussions were not simply theoretical, but – in our case – quite personal in nature.”

“Oh?” Scott asked. “Please elaborate.”

Devon laughed.

“Certainly,” he said. “Grant and I are so passionate about celebrating diversity in Weston because we, ourselves, are part of that diverse population. You see, we recently became engaged ….”

“I’m sorry?” Scott asked, interrupting. “Engaged to be married? To each other?”

“Yes,” Grant replied, glancing at Devon and smiling. “We’re very, very happy.”

“And Prince Stephen is aware of your engagement?” Scott asked.

“Absolutely,” Devon said, “and he has given us his blessing, both as my cousin and as sovereign.”

“That’s amazing,” Scott said, excitedly. “I’m sure you realize that this is unprecedented here in Weston, Lord Buckland, as you are the first member of the royal family to ever come out as LGBTQ+.”

“Well, as I said, Prince Stephen and Princess Elizabeth were both thrilled with our announcement, and have been very supportive,” Devon said.

“It occurs to me that you, Lord Buckland, are currently heir to the throne of Weston,” Scott said. “Doesn’t this news impact that role significantly?”

“I suppose it does,” Devon said. “But I think we all expect good news from the palace at any time that will push me down in the succession. But if something, God forbid, would happen to Prince Stephen before that time, I would, of course, serve Weston to the best of my ability.”

“But what about an heir?” Scott said.

“There are ways that we could provide one,” Grant replied. “Surrogacy, for instance. Certainly, it might require some changes to the succession laws, but I’m sure that we could work toward a solution with the national assembly.”

“But this is all completely hypothetical, Scott,” Devon added. “I have no doubt an heir will be forthcoming, and there will be no chance of me becoming Prince of Weston – a position I do not, in any way, desire.”

Scott turned back to the camera.

“Our conversation with Lord Buckland and Lord Perry has taken a rather fascinating turn this evening, as they have publicly announced their upcoming marriage – the first gay marriage in Weston’s royal family,” he said. “We’ll be back in a moment to talk more.”

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“Well, that’s the thing really …” Devon said, pausing. Finally, he steeled himself and spoke.

“It’s not a young woman, mother,” he said. “It’s actually a young man.”

“I KNEW IT!” his mother snapped, a sneer touching her lips. “You and that young viscount have violated every law of decency! And you think you can just flout the norms of society and get married? You – the heir presumptive to the throne of Weston? I forbid it, Devon Andrew Vincent Grey! Do you hear me? As your mother, I FORBID IT!”

Devon took a step back, surprised at the vitriol that she had spewed forth. He had expected anger, yes. Perhaps some tears. But this was nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred!

“You can’t forbid it, mother,” Devon said, his own temper rising. “Gay marriage is legal in Weston, and I have Prince Stephen’s permission to marry Grant if I wish. And I do wish to!”

“Do you have any idea what this will do to our family’s standing – our reputation – among the great families?” the countess asked. “Do you even care what happens to me?”

“Well, mother, I would hope that you could learn to be happy for me,” Devon said. “Happy that I found someone to love, and who loves me back just as much.”

“Ugh,” Augusta said, turning away. “The very thought makes me sick! As it will all of Weston if you go through with this foolishness! Again, I forbid it, Devon. You cannot be such an idiot … but then, of course you are. You are, after all, your father’s son.”

Devon felt the rage spill out of him.

“I will not hear you speak so of my father,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll remind you, mother, that I am the Earl of Buckton, rightful owner of this house and head of this family! You can berate me all you wish, but if you say another word against my father – your own late husband, for God’s sake – I swear you will regret it, do you hear me? You will regret every syllable!”

Augusta studied her son for a moment, then spoke.

“Well at least you’re acting like a man for a change, despite your little announcement that you are anything but!” she said. “I cannot imagine why Stephen would give you permission to ruin yourself – unless, of course, it’s to get back at me. He’s always hated me, for some reason. But since you won’t see reason, let me say this: if you do this, you will no longer be my son. I will never see you – or speak to you – again. Do you understand, Devon? Never!”

“That is your decision to make,” Devon replied. “But doing so also means that you will never again have the support of family, or the privilege of meeting your grandchildren.”

“Do you even hear yourself, Devon?” Augusta cried. “Any children you adopt cannot inherit your title, you realize that, don’t you? The earldom will die with you, ending nine generations of noble service to crown and country! But you don’t care, do you? All you want is your disgusting boy! Well have him, then! And don’t come running home to me when everything falls apart.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Devon replied. “That would be impossible, mother, since Grant and I will be living here! Once we've vacated Polk Cottage, you are welcome to live there for as long as you like. But unless you learn to live with my relationship with Grant, you will not be welcome here at Buckton Hall.”

“Fine, then,” Augusta said, turning back to her canvas. “Then I assume we’re finished here? I’d like to get back to my painting. I’ll start preparations to move in the morning and be out by the end of the week.”

“Mother ….” Devon said.

“You know your way out,” Augusta said.

Devon sighed and walked out of the ballroom, almost smiling. While he felt sorry for the pain he had caused his mother, he was also elated by the backbone he had so suddenly grown in dealing with her.

“I do,” he said as he left. “Goodbye, mother.”

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“You’re serious ….” Grant asked, his legs suddenly feeling quite unsteady as they walked through the garden.

“I am,” Devon replied, smiling. “I’ve thought about little else since Stephen and I spoke this morning. I’m ready.”

“You’re ready to be the center of a media circus?” Grant asked. “Because that’s exactly what it will be.”

Devon laughed.

“You’re the one who’s been pushing me, and now you’re not sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Grant said. “I just can’t believe the change in you. As much as I love you, Devon, I never imagined you would be prepared to take this step – not with your mother … your whole family … watching! Was Stephen okay with this?”

“Yes,” Devon said. “He’s willing to support whatever decision we make. Believe me, this wasn’t my first instinct. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I can face it – all of it – so long as I have you by my side.”

“It’s not going to be easy, my love,” Grant replied. “I hope you know that.”

“I know that, Grant,” Devon replied, annoyed. “Do you think I’m not aware of the ramifications this will have? My mother will disown me! The House of Lords will likely condemn me for leaving the House of Marchand with no potential heir. But I don’t care!”

“Okay, so when do you want to go public?” Grant asked. “How?”

“I don’t know yet, but I think we do it in a big way,” Devon said. “Tear the bandage off all at once, so to speak. Maybe during our WBN interview next week? I mean, think about it! How can we promote  diversity and inclusion and hide who we are? It’s a natural fit!”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?” Grant said as he reached out for Devon – then stopped himself. While Hillningham was a private estate, there were still many eyes around. He turned away, suddenly aware that the tables had turned and now he was the one who was afraid.

“Of course I have,” Devon said, throwing his arms around Grant’s shoulders. “But I’m tired of waiting to be myself. I’m tired of holding back. I want to be with you! I want to be your husband!”

Grant’s eyes welled with tears.

“Then who am I to stop you?” he said. “I’m yours, my love. Nothing and no one will ever be able to change that.”

“Just don’t leave my side … ever,” Devon said, pulling Grant close. “I don’t know if I’d be able to manage without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Grant whispered in his ear.

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Devon’s car passed through the main gate of Buckton Hall and into the inner courtyard. He hadn’t let his mother – or her staff – know of his impending visit, so no one was waiting for him as he pulled up to the main entrance.

As he exited the vehicle, he couldn’t help but smile at the feelings that swept over him as he looked about the courtyard. While called Buckton Hall, the structure was actually a castle by design. Built in 1658, it was built to reflect the classic fairy tales treasured by the second Earl of Buckton. But it was home – and Devon knew every stone intimately.

Ringing the bell, Devon was quickly greeted by Reginald Nanse, his mother’s majordomo.

“Your lordship,” Reginald said. “I wasn’t aware you were visiting today. Otherwise I would have had the staff standing by to greet you.”

“It’s fine, Nanse,” Devon said. “I wanted this to be a quick, informal visit. I have some business to discuss with my mother. I do hope she is here.”

“Oh yes,” Nanse replied. “Although you know, as I do, that she loathes surprises.”

“Then she’s going to hate today all around, I’m afraid,” Devon said with a weak smile. “Where is she?”

“I believe she is in the ballroom, my lord,” Nanse said, gesturing for Devon to come in. “She likes to paint there due to the ample light. Her eyes aren’t what they once were, I’m afraid. Shall I announce you?”

“No, I’d prefer to surprise her,” Devon replied.

Nanse grimaced. “Then good luck to you, sir,” he said.

Devon started down the hallway and murmured to himself.

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

Devon entered the grand ballroom and was immediately struck by its scale and grandeur, as he always was. When he was a boy, he was rarely allowed into the room at all, except for formal affairs. But those events were more frequent in those days. When his father had been alive, he had loved to entertain family and friends on almost a weekly basis. Now, the room was hardly used at all.

I’ll have to change that, he thought.

In the center of the room, near the windowed alcove, he saw his mother, intent on her canvas. She had always enjoyed painting, but never really focused on it until her husband’s passing. Looking at her progress, Devon had to admit she had grown quite good at it.

As he moved forward, he cleared his thought and spoke.

“Ahem … mother?” he said.

The countess stiffened and turned to face her son.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, frowning. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Well, I was hoping to be a pleasant surprise,” Devon replied. “But I suppose I should have known better.”

“Indeed, you should have,” Augusta Grey said, snidely. “Why are you here, Devon?” Augusta said, pushing for an answer.

Devon closed the distance and approached his mother respectfully before speaking.

“Well, I have news I wanted to share with you,” he said. “I am engaged to be married.”

Augusta’s eyebrows shot up, revealing her surprise.

“Engaged, eh?” she said. “Without permission, even.”

“Oh, I have Stephen’s permission and his blessing,” Devon said.

“But not mine,” his mother replied.

“Last time I checked, mother, I was the Earl of Buckland,” Devon said, sharply. “As such, I do not need your permission to marry.”

“No matter,” Augusta replied. “Who is the lucky young woman, may I ask?”

Devon paused, his stomach churning. He took a deep breath.

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“Thank you for coming,” Stephen said as Devon entered his private office. “I’m trying to avoid actual work, since this is supposed to be a holiday, but, of course, that can be difficult in my position.”

“I’m sure,” Devon replied, moving to a chair in front of the elegantly carved desk. “I can’t imagine how many demands you have on your time, but you seem to be handling it well.”

“As well as I can, I suppose,” Stephen said. “Not that I have any choice in the matter.”

“So you wanted to talk privately?” Devon asked, his nervousness showing.

“Don’t worry, Devon,” Stephen said. “It’s nothing earth shattering. But I did want to talk about your responsibilities as my heir.”

Devon shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, hopefully I won’t be in that role for much longer,” Devon said. “I’m assuming you and Elizabeth are trying to get pregnant?”

Stephen’s eyes dropped briefly, his pain evident.

“Oh, I’m sorry if that’s a sore spot, Stephen,” Devon added quickly. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Stephen said, forcing a smile. “Not a problem, exactly. But I’m not rushing Beth to have a baby right away.”

“Oh,” Devon said, disappointed.

“I know that’s probably not what you were hoping to hear, Devon,” Stephen said. “But I want you to understand why. You recall the attempt that was made on Beth’s life?”

“Yes,” Devon said. “The whole Wellesley mess – horrible business.”

“Indeed,” Stephen replied. “But what you probably don’t know is that Beth was pregnant when she was taken.”

Devon leaned forward, shocked.

“Do you mean she ….”

“Yes,” Stephen said. “She miscarried while we were still in San Rios.”

Devon looked stricken.

“Stephen,” he said. “I’m … I’m so sorry.”

Stephen smiled weakly.

“Thank you, Devon,” he said. “Please understand that I’m telling you this, not for sympathy, but so that you understand the delay in us delivering Weston with an heir.”

“Of course,” Devon said, standing. He turned to study the books on Stephen’s shelves, concealing his expression. “I completely understand why you wouldn’t want to push Beth for a baby now. She must have been devastated.”

“You can’t imagine,” Stephen said. “We both were.”

“Don’t worry, Stephen,” Devon said. “I can wait as long as I need to.”

“I know, and I appreciate that,” Stephen replied. “But you realize that means that it’s going to be at least a year or longer before you and Grant can even think about going public with your relationship.”

Devon nodded, and turned to Stephen.

“We will both make whatever sacrifices are required,” he said.

Stephen felt his cousin’s pain, yet continued. He couldn’t turn back now.

“But you also realize that the longer you are my heir, the more attention you will be given,” he said. “In fact, I believe that it will only grow more intrusive. Until we can announce that Beth is expecting, you’re going to be under growing scrutiny. And with both of you living at Polk Cottage, there’s a good chance ....”

“I understand,” Devon replied, downcast.

“Devon, you have to know that this isn’t at all the way I’d hoped this would go,” Stephen said. “My hope was that we’d have announced Beth’s pregnancy by now, which would have taken the pressure off. But now, with the additional attention you’re going to receive ....”

“Would it really be so bad if they found out?” Devon asked, interrupting.

Stephen studied his cousin for a moment, surprised. He hadn’t expected that question.

“Perhaps not,” Stephen replied carefully. “But I want you to think about it very carefully. Are you ready to be on the cover of every paper and magazine? To see your face as the lead story on every news broadcast as the first openly gay royal in Weston’s history? Are you ready for that level of scrutiny? Because they won’t leave you alone for a moment.”

Devon stood quietly, seemingly thinking through the consequences, and Stephen circled the desk.

“Think about it, Devon,” Stephen said, smiling. “That’s all I ask. If you and Grant truly believe you’re ready to shoulder that kind of publicity, then Beth and I will support you every step of the way. I hope you know that.”

“I do, Stephen,” Devon replied, smiling. “And believe me, I’ll consider it carefully.”

“And talk to Grant about it, of course,” Stephen said. “This is a decision you’ll need to make together.”

“I already know what his answer will be,” Devon said, grinning. “But I will certainly have that conversation.”

“Very good, then,” Stephen said, extending a hand, which Devon shook. “I’m glad we talked.”

“Me, too, Stephen,” Devon said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Just do what you think is best for you, Devon,” Stephen said. “I’ll stand with you no matter what you decide.”

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“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Grant asked as Devon prepared to leave for Buckton Hall.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Devon said. “I think mother will take the news much better if it’s just me.”

“Do you really think so?” Grant asked, grinning.

“No, but at least I’ll just have to defend myself,” Devon said. “If you’re there, she’ll attack you, too, and I don’t think I would have the patience for that. I’m used to her being critical of me. But you – you don’t deserve what she would likely say to you.”

“I’m a grown man, Devon,” Grant asked. “I can handle it.”

“But I don’t know that I can,” Devon said.

“She’s lucky that you’re telling her at all,” Grant said.

“Well, I owe her that much,” Devon replied. “And I don’t want to blindside her in the press. She may be horrible, but she’s my mother, and she’s also getting on in years. I’d feel terrible if the news had an impact on her health.”

Grant paused, then laughed.

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “But to be honest, this change in you is simply … astounding. You’ve just become so strong and certain about things. What changed?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Devon said. “Maybe it’s having Stephen’s support. Maybe it’s just that I love you so much I can’t stand the thought of hiding my feelings anymore. Whatever it is, I’m just glad it happened, and I need you to trust me to do what needs to be done so we can be together.”

Grant paused, then nodded begrudgingly. “Of course I trust you,” he said. “I just don’t like the idea of you doing this alone.”

“Just wish me luck, my love,” Devon asked.

“You know I do, my love,” Grant said, hugging Devon tightly. “Compared to today, coming out in the press is going to be easy.”

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“The view is breathtaking,” Grant Fellowes, the eighth Viscount Perry, said, gazing out over the coastal waters. “Is there a path down to the beach?”

“Yes,” Stephen said, pointing. “Over there. That path leads right down to our private beach. This is the only way down, so unless they rent a boat, the paparazzi can’t bother us too much. We don’t use it often, though. This was always our home for the winter holidays, so the weather was never conducive to swimming.”

“I think I would spend more time here than that,” Grant replied. “It’s so lovely.”

“Well, my mother never liked Hilningham – she much preferred the social life of the capital,” Stephen said. “But Beth and I plan to come more frequently. It will be a nice retreat.”

“Indeed,” Grant replied, then paused. “Were you and Devon close growing up?”

“Well, when my mother found that she couldn’t have any more children, my father made sure that Devon and his family were part of our lives,” Stephen said, slowly walking back toward the house, Grant following. “He felt it was important to have family around. I was older than Devon, but he was always such a gentle, good-natured kid that I quickly became very protective of him.”

“He told me,” Grant said, smiling. “He said that you often protected him from his mother’s wrath.”

Stephen laughed. “I’ll tell you, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of one of Aunt Augusta’s tirades, but she was always more gentle with me than she would have been on Devon – since I was the crown prince, she was always careful to tread lightly.”

“I’m sure,” Grant replied.

As they approached the door, Stephen turned.

“Oh, I wanted to make sure you two were satisfied with your rooms?” he asked.

“Oh, quite,” Grant said, following. “I was a bit surprised that you assigned us separate rooms, but then I’m sure you were concerned about appearances.”

“Not on my part, Grant – I hope you know that,” Stephen said as they re-entered the house. “But servants can talk, and until Beth and I have a child and heir of our own, we have to be very careful.”

“Of course,” Grant said. Yet Stephen heard the disappointment in his voice and turned to his guest.

“Look, Grant,” he said. “I’m very happy that you two found each other, but I’ve known Devon since we were boys, and he has always been very painfully aware of the expectations our family placed on him. I know he is strong, but you tell me, do you think he is strong enough to handle the storm that would come if the media were to get wind of your relationship? As heir to the throne, that’s the kind of scrutiny he’s under – even if the spotlight is on me.”

Grant sighed as Stephen turned to climb the stairs.

“It’s just not fair,” he said sullenly, following.

“No,” Stephen replied as they reached the top and started down the hallway. “It’s not. But it’s the world we live in. And I promise you – once Beth and I have a child of our own, the spotlight will immediately begin shifting away from Devon. If we have two children, you two will have all of the privacy you desire, and I’ll be happy to stand with you when you announce your relationship to the world. But until then, I need you to trust me on this.”

Stephen and Grant entered Grant’s room, finding Elizabeth and Devon waiting.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Devon said. “Elizabeth said you had a surprise for us.”

“A surprise?” Grant asked.

“More of a convenience,” Stephen said. “As you know, this house is hundreds of years old, so it has its share of secrets.”

Devon and Grant looked at him curiously.

“Well, one of them is right here in this room,” Stephen said. “That bookcase there. Feel along the right edge there until you feel a notch – then press down.”

Grant stepped forward and followed Stephen’s instructions. Suddenly, the bookcase clicked and opened from the wall. Grant pushed it forward and gazed through – directly into Devon’s room.

“Now this is convenient,” he joked.

“It was originally devised by Prince Leopold IV, who had made a mistress of one of his wife’s ladies in waiting,” Stephen said.

“Scandalous,” Devon said, smiling at Grant. “But perfect.”

“Yes,” Grant said, smiling and turning to face Stephen. “Thank you. Really.”

“Like I said, Grant, I just want you and Devon to be happy,” Stephen said. “I know it’s tough right now, but it won’t always be that way. And until then, I promise to do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

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