Page 29 of The Devil’s Submission

“Your decision, of course. But it would be such a shame if a story about the missing money appeared in the scandal sheets. Why, everyone in the ton would know in a heartbeat.”

Grayson nodded. “Amazing how much detail is included. Damned anonymous sources.”

“You…you…unconscionable…” Lady Brimley snarled, then her shoulders slumped. “Give me the contract.”

As soon as they had the signed and sealed document, she, Grayson, and Lord Upton strolled back outside into the summer sunshine.

“Hell,” said her brother-in-law. “Things are certainly looking up.”

Eliza grinned and tucked her arm through Grayson’s. He looked back at her with such pride her heart felt like it might burst. Everything had been wrong. And now it was so right.

“That they are,” she replied. “That they blasted well are.”

Epilogue

The ballroom looked spectacular as an enchanted forest for their pagan festivities, but nothing came close to Eliza.

His own Lizzie.

She wore green silk, the shade like new spring leaves, fashioned into a Grecian tunic that draped over one shoulder and left the other bare. Her unruly hair tumbled in waves down her back, and perched on her head was a circlet of cream roses. Diamonds adorned her throat and wrists, alongside a new ruby betrothal ring that he’d purchased to celebrate their new start. Like Vice, and Sin and Grace, she no longer wore a mask, so she was clearly identified as a co-owner of Fallen.

“Did I remember to tell you, you look magnificent?” Devil whispered into her ear.

“Only about sixty-five times,” she murmured back, her eyes shining.

“Not nearly enough. You’ll be the best fairy queen ever seen in the history of England.”

“I must say, you make a very fine consort. Although if those ladies don’t stop salivating over your bare chest and the way those breeches cup your backside, I’m going to get cross.”

“Didn’t even see them,” he said honestly. “Do you want me to fetch a shirt?”

Eliza splayed a hand over his chest. “No. I want them to see and envy what belongs to me. Ah look. There is Vice, and my throne.”

Smiling, he followed her over to a wide raised dais with two velvet-covered gold thrones sitting atop it. Vice sat sprawled in one, dressed in cream breeches, a bejeweled cloak, and a ruby-and-silver crown atop his head—although how long that would stay with Prinny hovering at his feet and making pointed comments about usurpers was anyone’s guess. Grace and Sin stood to one side, arms wrapped around each other, both dressed in brown and green silk as wood sprites. Though Grace’s delicate blond beauty looked far more believable than her small mountain of a husband.

“Lady Eliza!” said Vice, waving them over. “Your throne awaits, my dear. And don’t you look splendid. Too bad about Dev, I do think he would have been better as a rock.”

Withdrawing her cane from a jeweled scabbard at her waist, Eliza pointed it in Vice’s direction. “Choose your words carefully, knave. They may be your last.”

Vice held up both hands. “I might be persuaded to surrender. And yet, the way you swing that cane leads me to believe I know the exact reason for your husband’s recent good humor, and that perhaps I should fight on.”

Devil mock-scowled. “Find your own wife.”

Just for a moment his friend grimaced, a kind of aching world weariness he never would have imagined Vice even thinking, let alone expressing. Startled, he stepped forward, but in the blink of an eye, Vice leaped from the dais down into the crush of people, talking and laughing, and passionately kissing several masked and half-naked women.

“I worry about him,” said Eliza quietly, as he helped her up onto her throne. “He’s not nearly as carefree and hedonistic as he makes out, is he?”

“Hedonistic, yes,” he replied. “Vice puts both Sin and I to shame when it comes to indulging in raw pleasure. But carefree? No. I think you are right.”

“Hmmm. Well, now that Vice has vacated his throne, do you want to come and sit in it?”

Devil shook his head. “Not my place, Lizzie. Too far away from you and your cane. I’d rather sit at your feet where you can stroke my hair and whisper wicked things in my ear.”

“If you do that, everyone will see. And they’ll know.”

“Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I want them to know. I’m not ashamed anymore. I’m happy. Like you said in our chamber, I have also found myself, and I’m free. Society be damned. When has pleasing them and following the rules ever helped anything anyway?”

Eliza laughed. “Touché, my love. Well then, get yourself up here, there is a prime spot awaiting you.”

Climbing up, he settled at her feet, leaned his head against her thigh and sighed with contentment. His gaze traveled the length and breadth of the forest ballroom, but shockingly, he didn’t see disdain or disgust on anyone’s faces. In fact, masked men and women were nodding and smiling, some raising their champagne glasses in a toast.

“They’re accepting it,” he said wonderingly.

“Well of course they are,” she said, smoothing his hair in her supremely calming way. “Because you and Sin and Vice accepted them. You’ve never judged or mocked their desires, so they are returning the favor. Fallen really is a sanctuary for everyone, including you, and you helped make it what it is.”

Devil smiled and raised his hand in a little wave to the crowd, and they cheered. Peter, their newest member, raised his hands above his head and applauded, a huge smile on his face. Interestingly, a very wealthy-looking couple stood next to him with rather proprietary hands on his waist. It seemed his brother had already made some new friends.

That was all you needed really. The love of the right person, good friends, a place of your own, and acceptance of your true self.

Well, that and a very sturdy cane.