Page 8 of The Devil’s Submission

Squaring her shoulders, Eliza walked toward them.

It was time to meet the enemy.

…

“Dev, if you want any chance at happiness, you have to tell her.”

Devil glanced down at Charlotte, one eyebrow lifted in a very mocking slant. “You know as well as I do the monumental difficulties of that conversation. Besides, she doesn’t want any part of it. She delivered the most exquisite slap, then nearly burst into tears.”

The beautiful brunette, whom he owed his life to, heaved an audible sigh. “I’m quite devastated, you know. My record of nudging dominant women and submissive men together was, until you and Eliza, perfect. I spied on her several times when she rode in Rotten Row, and I was so sure I saw traits of myself…damnation. I should never have encouraged you to accidentally-on-purpose bump into her. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. I thought I saw the traits in our courtship. Christ, Charlie, it was…”

“Amazing? Blissful?” Charlotte smiled sadly.

“All of the above. But enough about me. How goes the world with your latest paramour?”

“That is over,” she said briskly, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. “The earl spun a good tale, but he was very lazy and entirely focused on pleasing himself rather than me. The first time I used my crop on him he punched me square in the stomach and said he’d kill me if I ever told anyone. I didn’t tell Sin; I was too mortified.”

Devil took her hand and squeezed it, ten years of friendship in the gesture. The illegitimate and unacknowledged daughter of a viscount, Charlotte had always lived on the fringes of society, too high class for the servants, and too low class for the nobility. She’d been an actress, then a courtesan, made some money, and purchased her own small townhouse from which she hosted parties of a very discreet and certain nature—where men could explore the various elements of their sexuality. He’d heard of her through a classmate at Cambridge and attended several of her parties. After Reyburn had thrown him out, he’d half crawled, half walked, bloodied and broken, to her doorstep. Charlie had taken him in, no questions asked, and he’d stayed with her until he reached his majority and inherited money from a maternal aunt.

When he’d started Fallen with Sin and Vice, she’d been the first person he’d offered a luxurious life and well-paid employment to, for as long as she wanted it.

“Bastard,” he said fiercely. “But you know I love you unconditionally and for time without end, correct?”

Charlotte smiled and squeezed his hand back. “And I love you. Even if you keep me awake at night.”

“Well, I never,” said an icy voice behind him. “So much love in this chapel.”

Dismayed, he turned on his boot heel. “Eliza. I’m not sure if you’ve met my very good friend—”

“I know who she is,” his wife spat, her eyes a silver storm. “Mrs. Lewis.”

“That’s right,” said Charlotte pleasantly. “I’m Charlotte. Or Charlie if you prefer. I always thought Mrs. Lewis sounded quite ridiculous considering I’ve never been married. Living with Dev was the closest I ever got.”

“Perhaps it is time you did find a husband. Other than mine.”

“Eliza,” he said with a frown. “That is uncalled for.”

“Hush, Dev,” said Charlotte, surprising him. “In response, my lady, I can only plead the difficulties in finding a husband when you have certain…quirks.”

“Such as you prefer men already married?” snapped Eliza.

Charlotte laughed. “Well, married men are often much less trouble. But I was actually referring to—”

“I don’t care! You stay away. Actually, it would be far better if you packed your trunks and were gone from Fallen tonight.”

Both women looked at him, Eliza all fire and brimstone, and Charlotte surprised irritation. Grayson silently cursed his wife’s outburst, even as the possessiveness behind it warmed him to the core. This was so damned complicated.

“No,” he said quietly but firmly. “Charlie has a home at Fallen for as long as she wants it.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Eliza, every part of her body screaming betrayal, hurt, and fury. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.”

As she hurried away, almost running from the chapel, Devil swore.

“Go after her, Dev,” said Charlotte with a sigh.

“I’m not throwing you out. I won’t. Ever. It’s my fucking house. Eliza doesn’t decide who lives there.”