Page 49 of The Devil's Deceit
Arron: Relax. He won’t find a thing. Good news on the lunch. I wanna hear everything.
Me: Heading back now. Home in 45.
My car beeps when I unlock it, and I get in and toss my phone in the center console. As I fire up the engine, a text comes through from Christian. My pulse skyrockets. Leaving the engine running, I swipe the screen.
Christian: He likes you. Oh, and he knows.
Sweat beads my top lip.
Me: Knows what?
Christian: It’s a set-up.
Oh fuck.
Me: Did you tell him?
Christian: Didn’t need to. There isn’t much that gets past him. Stupid of me to try. But well done, Duchess. Your foot’s in the front door.
Me: Just don’t slam it on me.
Christian: 12 Not a chance. I’ll be in touch soon.
I replace my phone and rock my head against the headrest. I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that Charles is aware Christian and I came to an arrangement. Insome ways it’s not all that different from what Charles does, other than Christian taking charge of his destiny rather than leaving it to his dad. As I understand it, though, this isn’t the way things are done, and I have no doubt I’m not home and dry yet.
I drive home in a bit of a daze, processing everything that’s happened since I attended that first ball at Oakleigh. Some days, things seem to be happening at a snail’s pace. Other days, it’s like I’m on a speeding train with no brakes and the end of the line fast approaching. If Charles does agree to this marriage, I have a feeling things will happen fast.
Uncle Daniel’s car is parked in our driveway. I leave my car on the road, suppressing a thread of annoyance. Why does he always park in the driveway when I’m not home? This is our house, albeit gifted by an unknown benefactor. Sometimes Uncle Daniel behaves as if it belongs to him. I lock my car and stride up the pathway. Before I get my key in the lock, the door opens, and I’m greeted by my uncle.
“You took your time getting here.”
I lock my jaw and glare at him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I had a schedule to keep. And it’s London, in case you’ve forgotten. Bumper to bumper traffic whatever the time of day.”
“Well, hurry up. I don’t have long.”
He stands back, finally letting me into my own house. I hang my handbag over the banister and brush past him into the living room. Shrugging out of my jacket, I fall into the nearest chair, too tired for another interrogation, knowing I’m getting one regardless.
“You okay, sis?” Arron’s permanent worry lines seem deeper than ever. Maybe it’s the light, but he looks more thirty-six than twenty-six.
“Yes. Wasn’t expecting the extra houseguest, that’s all.” I glance up at Uncle Daniel as he enters the living room and closes the door to the hallway with a firm click. “Nor having to park on the road instead of my driveway.”
Normally, Uncle Daniel’s…. let’s call them “ways”, don’t bother me, but I’m tired and want a bath, a glass of wine, and to close my eyes to try and process what happened today with Christian and his father, as well as what this might mean if all goes according to plan. The closer I get to achieving what I set out to do, the heavier the weight in my gut feels.
“Well,” my uncle coaxes when I don’t say anything. “Arron said you had lunch with De Vil senior. What happened?”
“It went well. I think he likes me.”
“Of course he likes you,” Arron says, puffing out his chest as though the idea of anyone disliking his sister is a personal affront.
I smile at his over-protectiveness. I’m lucky to have him. I couldn’t have imagined being an only child through the last several months. He’s my rock, my support structure, and the only other person in the world except for me who understands exactly how I feel.
“He also knows today’s meeting was a set-up, as well as the other week at Oakleigh.”
“What?” Uncle Daniel explodes. “Well, then. That’s it. What did you do, Grace?”
I curl my hands into fists and anchor them against the couch. “First of all, I didn’tdoanything. Second of all, Christian told me it’s fine. But this proves how important it is, now more than ever, to ensure there’s nothing in my fake background that can come back to bite us. Charles De Vil is smart, and you can bet that if there’s a chance he’s consideringme as a wife for his son, he is going to turn over every stone and look under every rock.” I look over at Arron. “Hence my text to you.”
“He won’t find anything,” Arron says confidently. “I’ve got you covered.”
