Page 56 of The Devil and the Heiress
“He was bitter that our father rejected him as a suitor. When Papa turned him down, Leigh decided to take you another way,” said Max.
“No. He didn’t ask Papa for my hand.” Christian would have told her if he had when he had confessed his plan to convince her to marry him.
“Tell her I’m wrong, Leigh.” The assurance in Max’s voice sent a chill down her spine.
Christian stood silent, and her stomach clenched in nausea. Her body felt achy and numb all at the same time. “Christian?” she whispered.
“I asked your father that day we spoke outside your music room. He declined in favor of Ware.”
Struggling to speak past the ache in her throat, she said, “Then you knew about my father accepting Ware when wespoke at the ball. You knew and were already plotting? You plotted to gain me. No, you didn’t want me at all; you wanted my settlement. But why?” He wasn’t destitute like Rothschild had been, but then the answer struck her before he even said it. Of course, she had been reduced to the sum of her ability to increase his holdings, just like with Ware.
“Blythkirk. I needed money for Blythkirk, but Violet, I wanted you.” He took a step forward, but Max intervened, walking to her side.
“Do you actually think our father would allow a conniving bastard like you a settlement? What would you have done when he cut Violet off?”
Violet already knew the answer. Her voice quivering in pain, she couldn’t look away from the guilt on Christian’s face. “The house in Manhattan? The stocks?”
Max’s head swiveled to look down at her. “He knew about those?”
She nodded, feeling like an absolute fool. “I told him everything.” What a complete and utter fool she had been. “He baited me, and I played right into his hands.” Part of her didn’t want to believe it, but the truth was written on Christian’s face.
“It all would have been yours upon your marriage to her,” Max said to Christian. “You planned to sell it all, didn’t you? You son of a bitch. You planned to gut Violet’s holdings for your own selfish gains.”
“That was my plan, yes.”
“I love that house.” Aunt Hortense had left it to her because she had stayed there the most. They had built the greenhouse in the back together, planted the rose garden, spent hours arranging the books in the library. Her voice was thick with unshed tears, forcing her to swallow past them. “How could you?”
“I didn’t know, Violet,” Christian said. “I meant it when I said that you are all I need. I wouldn’t have sold it, not now, not without your consent.”
“Easy to say, but how can I ever believe that now? You lied to me. You treated me exactly like every other man, used me as a commodity to meet your ends.”
Before either of them could react, Max swung. She shrieked as his fist hit Christian’s cheek, nearly knocking him over. “No!”
Christian’s entire body reeled with the blow, and he whirled and crouched as if bracing himself for another one. “You get one, Crenshaw. Do not attempt another.”
Max moved as if he indeed would, but Violet was not going to allow them to fight over this, especially when she still needed answers. Putting herself between them, she faced Christian. “When did you plan to tell me the whole truth?”
“I told you the truth.”
“Not the entire truth. Not how you schemed. Not the depths you were willing to go to get what you wanted,” she said.
“He seduced you to get what he wanted. He doesn’t deserve any part of you,” said Max.
The painful truth of that statement hit her right in the chest. Christian had seduced her. He had used his pretty words to make her fall in love with him. What if none of this was real? He hadn’t told her the truth, not when he had held so much of it back. What if he still held himself back and she had merely fallen in love with this facade of him?
She had fallen in love with a facade. If most of it wasn’t true, then how could any of it be real? “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Violet.” The pain in his voice nearly ripped her heart in two. When he would have stepped toward her, she held up her hand.
“No, I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I have to go.” She turned, her body chilled with the aftermath, but she stopped as something he had said came back to her. “Do you remember the day you came to my home withRothschild looking for August?” At his nod, she continued, “That day when you tried to convince me he had been faithful to her, I asked why I should believe you. You said that I should not ever believe you.” She took in a shuddering breath. “You warned me, but I was too infatuated to heed it.”
She felt like she had just lived a hundred years at once. Her body hurt with the pain of his betrayal. “Take me home, Max. Please.”
He wanted to stay. She could feel his body vibrating with anger, but he put his arm around her instead. “This isn’t over, Leigh. We will discuss this later. I expect to see you in London to settle this. Don’t make me come find you in Scotland.”
Christian didn’t follow, and she didn’t know what to make of that. She wanted him to tell her she was wrong, to plead with her; yet she knew she wouldn’t believe him. Not now. Not when her heart had been torn open and left bleeding. How could she ever trust anything again? Memories of their nights on the road swept through her head as she trudged up the hill. He had held himself away from her, only opening pieces of himself bit by bit like tiny little treasures he would give over to her keeping. She had thought it a sign of his growing affection, but what if it had all been carefully planned, calculated to have her take his lure? Along with the memories came the snatches of gossip she had heard about him. Reprobate, womanizer, blackguard... This was precisely how a man like that would play her affections. What had made her think she was any different?
Lady Helena was waiting for her at the Mitchells’ front stoop. Violet had almost forgotten that Max had mentioned her. Worry creased her brow, and she hurried down the steps to meet her. “Oh, Violet,” she said, pulling her into a warm embrace.
