Page 116 of The Devil's Deceit

Fatigued, I clamber to my feet and make it into the bedroom. I’ve every intention of calling Arron to let him know I’m back in the country, but jet lag has other ideas.

I fall flat on my face and let the sweet call of sleep take me.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHRISTIAN

My eyes sting and my skin itches as I pick my way down the stairs. I’d have given nothing more than to sit down with Grace and tell her everything, and have her do the same, but she was almost dead on her feet, and I’m not that far behind. Tomorrow makes more sense, but what makes sense and what we’d like to happen aren’t always in alignment.

Dealing with Grace meant I was left out of the loop when Dad and Xan caught up to George. I’m keen to find out what their plans are for the raping bastard. While Nicholas, Tobias, Saskia and I have a say, this is Xan and Dad’s call. I can’t see a future where Xan is all live and let live, and that suits me fine. George deserves to die in a stinking pile of his own excrement after starving to death. I want his demise to be long and painful, for him to have time to think about what he did and to suffer for it.

By the time I reach Dad’s office, everyone is already gathered. Somber faces greet me as I take a seat next to Tobias. Considering it’s the first Friday of the month, normally we’dbe gathered around the dinner table, sharing good food and spending quality family time together. Not this month.

“How is Grace?” Victoria asks.

“Exhausted.”

“She said anything?” Xan asks pointedly.

“Other than thinking you were glaring at her the entire flight home, no. I told her you weren’t glaring at her.”

“Some of the time, I was.”

“Stop it.” Imogen places a warning hand on his thigh. “Isn’t life hard enough right now without going after a woman who’s grieving? She made her choices during a time of terrible pain. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt until we know more, yes?”

My eldest brother has the good grace to blush. When it comes to Xan, Imogen has special powers. He’ll take criticism from her and reflect inward. She’s been incredibly good for him. Before she came along he hardly smiled, too mired in his own grief. She’s softened him in a good way.

“Yes,” he mutters.

“Where is he?” I ask Dad.

“Downstairs.”

He means in the cellars beneath the house, where it’s damp and dark. Good.

“And Alice?”

“In my living room. I’ve asked Alan to bring her along shortly. I want to see what she did or didn’t know.”

“And if she knows everything?”

“Let’s gather the facts first,” he says in his inimitable style. “Then we will decide what happens next.”

When Alice enters Dad’s office, she’s pale and nervy, her fingers plucking at the hem of her jacket.

Dad smiles kindly while the rest of us sit back and let himtake the lead. “Sit down, dear.” He motions for her to sit opposite him.

She almost falls into the chair, her knees giving way. “Charles, before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m as shocked as you are. All these years, he kept me in the dark. It was only after he told me we had to flee that I insisted he told me everything.”

I can believe this. Alice is such a quiet little mouse of a woman. She’s always let George take the lead in pretty much everything.

“And now you do know, what’s changed for you?”

Her eyes flare wide. “Everything has changed. My God.” She presses a palm to her chest. “He… he… attacked Fiona. No woman deserves that. He’s not the person I thought he was.”

“Raped,” Nicholas growls. “Let’s not couch it in softer language. Your husband raped my mother.”

Dad flinches, and Xan’s hands fist so tightly, his knuckles whiten.