Page 33 of The Devil's Deceit
“No, silly.” She perches on the arm of the chair. “If Charles De Vil is looking for a wife for his son,yoube the wife he picks.”
“Whoa, hang on a sec.” I raise my hands in the air. “Dating the man is one thing. Marrying him is quite another. It’s a step too far.”
“It’s just words and a piece of paper,” Uncle Daniel says, immediately jumping on the idea. “And look at it this way.Marrying him will get you far more access than simply dating the guy.”
“I agree,” Arron says.
The speed at which the plan has pivoted makes my head spin. I make a calming motion with my hands. “Hang on a second. I’m the one who’ll have to stand there spouting vows. And what happens afterward when I discover the truth and reveal who I really am? I just divorce him and get on with my life?”
“Yeah,” Uncle Daniel says as casually as you like.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Uncle Daniel explodes out of his chair. “Don’t you want to find out what happened to your parents?”
I stand, too, because sitting will only give my uncle a height advantage over me. “Yes, I want to find out what happened, but marriage? We never discussed that.”
“We’re discussing it now,” he says.
“No, we’re not discussing it. You’re just assuming I’ll do it.”
His face reddens, hands balled at his sides. “So, that’s it? You’re just gonna walk away and let that bastard get away with murder? And for what? Because you’re too fucking scared to do what’s necessary?”
Arron gets up, too. Only Juliet remains seated, her eyes tracking each of us. “That’s enough. Grace is braver than any of us.”
I touch Arron’s arm, grateful for the support. “I’m not scared, Uncle Daniel. I’m willing to do whatever is necessary, but this is a sharp change in direction. I need a little time to think it over, that’s all. Besides, if I do decide to try to make a play as the chosen bride, how the hell do I do that?”
“You said Christian doesn’t want to get married, right?” Juliet asks.
“Yeah.”
“So, you offer him a way out. What if you suggest a marriage of convenience. Sell it as a way that he can carry on with his life exactly how he wants to.”
I twist my lips while I contemplate. “I mean, that works for him, but he’ll want to know what’s in it for me. I can hardly say ‘to prove you’re a lying son of a bitch who killed my parents and buried the evidence’ now, can I?”
Juliet drums her fingers against her mouth as Uncle Daniel paces up and down like a caged tiger. “Hmm.” The drumming speeds up. “Aha, got it. He knows you’re poor, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then. That’s what you get out of the marriage. Financial security. It’s perfect.”
“Give that girl a medal,” Uncle Daniel says.
“But it’s up to you, Gracie,” she says. “Whatever you decide, we’ll back you.” Staring pointedly at my uncle, she adds, “Right?”
He mumbles an agreement under his breath, but the look in his eyes is one of wild excitement. If I say no, he won’t leave it there. He’ll peck and peck and shout and yell until I cave in to his demands.
I look at Arron, then Juliet, then back at Arron. “Okay,” I say, nodding. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Twelve
CHRISTIAN
You know when you have a problem, and the harder you think about it, the further away the solution gets? That’s been my life for the past few days, ever since my father casually brought up news about my impending marriage. For the life of me, I can’t see how to swerve this, and stupidly, I’d begun to believe that after Xan and Nicholas marrying within a few months of each other, I’d have several more years at least before my turn on the chopping block arrived.
How wrong I was?
And this isn’t just about Grace and my growing obsession. I’m often all-in with the women I date until the novelty wears off. That can happen in a week, a month or, in the case of my last relationship, three whole months before I woke up one morning and the feelings I’d had just… weren’t there anymore. No, this is about losing my freedom to live my life as I choose. Whichever way I cut this, I’m not the settling down kind. I like variety. It keeps life interesting.
