Page 27 of The Devil's Pawn

“She’s doing much better, sir, thank you.”

Daughter? I look at Alexander for answers but get none.

“That’s good. If there’s anything else I can do.”

“You’ve done more than enough, sir. If it weren’t for you, well…”

Alexander draws his hand up. “I made a few phone calls. That’s all. It was the least I could do.”

“It made all the difference to us, sir. We’re incredibly grateful.”

“You’re a valuable member of my team, Douglas. Please send my regards to your wife.” He urges me forward and into the house.

“Welcome back, sir,” Alan says, closing the door behind us. “Mrs. De Vil.”

“Thanks.” I wait until Alan has retreated before I ask, “What’s wrong with Douglas’s daughter?”

“She’d been having blurred vision for a while, along with a few other unexplained symptoms, and Douglas was being given the runaround by his GP.”

“And you helped?”

“Helped is a stretch. I simply sent my private doctor to examine her. Turns out she has diabetes that, if left untreated for much longer, could have had serious consequences.”

This is a different side to Alexander—one he hasn’t shown me until now. A funny feeling settles in my stomach. Have I misjudged him?

“But she’ll be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. She and her family are getting all the support they need.”

“Thanks to you.”

One corner of his mouth tilts up. “You sound surprised. I treat my staff well, Imogen.”

Bitterness courses through me. He treats the staff better than he treats me. "So it seems," I mutter. "It's a shame you don't extend the same courtesy to your wife."

Before he can respond, I jog up the stairs to my rooms. As I close the door behind me, shame coats my tongue. Alexander does a nice thing—one he didn’t have to do, and certainly one I hadn’t expected from him—and I make it all about me. Why should I care how he treats me? The unkinder he is to me, the easier it will be to keep jabbing him with insults and pushing his buttons. Given my deep loneliness, if Alexander shows me kindness or understanding, there’s a risk I’ll find it harder to do what needs to be done.

There are still a few hours of daylight left, and since I haven’t explored the grounds of Oakleigh yet, I may as well make the most of the warm sunshine. It was several degrees colder in Scotland while cloudy most of the time, and I yearn to feel the sun on my face.

I miss California desperately. The golden sandy beaches, the impressive mountains, the heat of the sun, mild breezes, and the smell of the ocean. I miss my parents, too. And Emma. And my college buddies. I guess I just miss being around people I have a connection with.

Shaking off the gloom, I grab a light jacket and my batphone, as I’ve christened the cell Alexander gave me. As far as I can tell, it’s the same as any other phone, so whatever this extra layer of security is, it isn’t interfering with how it works.

Stuffing it into the pocket of my jeans, I’m halfway across the vast living room when there’s a knock at my door. For asecond, I think it might be Alexander, but I can’t see him politely knocking and waiting for approval to enter.

“Come in.”

Maisie pokes her head around the door, takes in my attire, and frowns. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes. Out for a walk. I want to make the most of the late evening sunshine.”

“Oh, um… no one has told you.”

It’s my turn to frown now. “Told me what?”

“About the dinner.”

I sigh at the back and forth. “Maisie, it feels like we’re playing twenty questions. What dinner?”

---