Page 31 of The Devil's Deceit

Keep playing the part, Grace.

“No.” He shakes his head to emphasize the point. “You can’t help.”

“Have I… done something to upset you?”

His head snaps in my direction. “Of course not. It’s family stuff, that’s all.” Pulling his gaze away, he returns to his staring contest with the other side of the room.

I shouldn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for this man. He’s covered up what really happened to my parents, and for that alone he deserves to suffer. But there’s something in his bleakness that gives me pause.

“Come with me.” I take his hand and lead him from the room.

He doesn’t resist, trekking along beside me in obedient fashion. “Where are we going?”

“The gardens.” I chuckle. “Although you’re going to have to take the lead. I can’t remember where they are.”

A flicker of a smile touches his lips. He tugs on my hand, veering left instead of right, which is where I was headed. “That way leads to the kitchens.”

The urge to make a joke comes over me. “I mean, the food was pretty scarce in the ballroom.”

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Come on, through here.”

Less than a minute later, we emerge into the gardens. Scented flowers envelop me, along with the same sense of peace I had last time we were here.

The time Christian called himself a monster during the full moon.

However in jest that was, it hit a nerve far too close to home. I quash the dark thoughts and trek through the neatly tended pathways. At the bench by the lake, he stops but doesn’t sit. Instead, he faces me square on and brushes histhumb over my cheekbone, his dark eyes filled with a melancholy I haven’t seen previously.

An uneasy feeling spreads through my midsection, and my breath catches in my throat. Fate can be a cruel mistress sometimes. In another life, Christian is the kind of man I’d fall for, but in this life, he’ll always be the man who took my parents from me. If hehasdiscovered something about me, though, it’s better I get him to tell me and then I can attempt damage control.

In other words, deny everything.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but talking to a stranger might help.”

“Grace.” His voice is low and filled with longing. “You’re far from a stranger. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve known you a lot longer than a few weeks.”

Oh, believe me, I’ve known you far longer than a few weeks…

“Whatever it is, I’m a good listener. I’m also discreet, in case that’s worrying you.”

“I don’t doubt your discretion for a second. You’re a lady, and a classy one at that.” He flashes a smile. “Or should I say,Duchess.” The smile doesn’t last. He draws in a deep breath before letting it out slowly through pursed lips. “My father just dropped something on me without warning, and there’s no way out of it.”

Instead of saying anything, I stay quiet. My gut tells me that’s the right approach.

His other hand cups the back of my neck, and he brings our foreheads together. I lose track of how long we stay like that, but it has to be more than a minute. That’s a long time when no one is speaking, but however uncomfortable it is, I know I’m doing the right thing.

Eventually, he breaks our connection, but his hand remains around the back of my neck.

“In our family, our wives are chosen for us. It’s been that way for centuries.” He rubs his lips together. “My father just told me he’s looking for a wife for me.”

Somehow, I swallow the gasp that threatens to burst out of me. Our plans, our carefully constructed plans, put together over months of meticulous work lie in ruins at my feet. If Christian marries another woman, that’s it. Arron and I will never find out what truly happened to Mum and Dad.

“And you don’t want to marry?”

He barks a laugh filled with acrimony. “No. I don’t. I mean, I’ve always known in the abstract that marriage is on the horizon, but now my two elder brothers are married, and Dad has his first grandchild, I guess I’d convinced myself he’d be more relaxed with me. That he could, with some persuasion, leave me to live my life the way I want to live it.” He laughs again; it’s harsh tones reminiscent of nails scraping down a blackboard.

“And how do you want to live it?”

“The same as now. Ilikethe single life. I don’t want a wife hanging off my coattails, asking me where I’m going or what I’m doing.”