blind chit no one cared about, other than Brother Anselm.
The thought soured in his gut the moment he swallowed past it. He was a repulsive liar. Eveline Mitchell was, and always had been, his lifeline to humanity. Dammit all to hell!
He did not care.
He would not care.
“You know it matters,” Devlin said with a sigh, releasing his friend. “I agree with you. Grace is an innocent, but I’ve waited too long to have my revenge. I don’t have time to find another medium, and yet I’ll not destroy my chances because I didn’t do my research. I need her to be sane, to negotiate on my behalf. Insanity can be hereditary, you know.”
Victor’s jaw clenched, and a muscle worked along the edge. He leaned in. “What if it takes someone insane to negotiate with the gatekeeper to Hell? Did you ever consider that?”
The wheels grinding in his brain came to a stuttering halt. “Point taken,” he admitted.
Victor headed toward the door. “I’ll do my best to uncover the truth.” He stopped, and without turning back, he asked, “Do you believe Josephine resides here?”
“I don’t know, but I’m open to the possibility.” Devlin stared out the window and caught the sun’s reflection off Neptune. The sparkles glittering off the water defied belief. “Lord knows I’ve encountered stranger things in my lifetime.”
“Promise me one thing,” Victor said, glancing back over his shoulder.
Devlin nodded.
“Reconsider what I’ve said.” Victor’s eyes grew bleak. “Because I know you, my friend, and if Grace dies in your pursuit for revenge, you may as well put a bullet through your own head. It isn’t worth it.”
Devlin had never doubted for an instant he would forfeit his life to ensure his mother burned in Hell. He turned his back on his friend and strode to the sideboard to pour another fortifying drink. What he didn’t know was whether he could sacrifice Grace, and that thought chilled him to the bone. The decision ought to be simple. But it was not. Perhaps his mother had been right about him all along and he
was
a blackhearted monster.
• • •
Rays of sunshine permeated Grace’s cloak and offered comfort against the harsh wind. Emma guided her to the chapel as quickly as the gravel path would allow, pointing out larger rocks and the divots forged by the recent rain. She stumbled once or twice but didn’t care, so great was her desire to see Brother Anselm.
Devlin’s cool departure weighed on her. Was he angry at her about the kiss? Her fingers brushed along her swollen lips, and she recalled her passionate response. He must think her insane. One minute she admonished him for thinking her a loose woman, and the next she melted into his embrace, a willing participant.
But, Lord help her, she couldn’t resist the fire he flamed in her belly. She’d never imagined a man might want to slip his tongue into her mouth, nor how wonderful the sensation might feel. Perhaps she ought to consult with Emma on the topic of men and women. She’d heard whispers in the tavern, and once, when she was a young girl, she’d seen her dog mount a bitch. But that was the extent of her knowledge. Speaking with Brother Anselm was out of the question.
Emma ushered Grace through the back door of the chapel, where the living quarters could be found, and ensured she was safe in the care of Brother Anselm before departing for the mansion.
Grace’s nostrils filled with the welcoming fragrance of mint tea and raspberry. The air caressing her skin was warm, and a fire crackled nearby.
“Are those raspberry scones I smell, Brother Anselm?” she asked with a grin forming on her lips. “You’ve endeared yourself to Abigail. So quickly? You were gone half the morning, if I am to believe Captain Limmerick.”
Brother Anselm took her cloak. “Priorities, my dear.”
She chuckled and waited for his return. He guided her to a wooden chair and table set nestled next to the wall. A slight chill and howling of the
The thought soured in his gut the moment he swallowed past it. He was a repulsive liar. Eveline Mitchell was, and always had been, his lifeline to humanity. Dammit all to hell!
He did not care.
He would not care.
“You know it matters,” Devlin said with a sigh, releasing his friend. “I agree with you. Grace is an innocent, but I’ve waited too long to have my revenge. I don’t have time to find another medium, and yet I’ll not destroy my chances because I didn’t do my research. I need her to be sane, to negotiate on my behalf. Insanity can be hereditary, you know.”
Victor’s jaw clenched, and a muscle worked along the edge. He leaned in. “What if it takes someone insane to negotiate with the gatekeeper to Hell? Did you ever consider that?”
The wheels grinding in his brain came to a stuttering halt. “Point taken,” he admitted.
Victor headed toward the door. “I’ll do my best to uncover the truth.” He stopped, and without turning back, he asked, “Do you believe Josephine resides here?”
“I don’t know, but I’m open to the possibility.” Devlin stared out the window and caught the sun’s reflection off Neptune. The sparkles glittering off the water defied belief. “Lord knows I’ve encountered stranger things in my lifetime.”
“Promise me one thing,” Victor said, glancing back over his shoulder.
Devlin nodded.
“Reconsider what I’ve said.” Victor’s eyes grew bleak. “Because I know you, my friend, and if Grace dies in your pursuit for revenge, you may as well put a bullet through your own head. It isn’t worth it.”
Devlin had never doubted for an instant he would forfeit his life to ensure his mother burned in Hell. He turned his back on his friend and strode to the sideboard to pour another fortifying drink. What he didn’t know was whether he could sacrifice Grace, and that thought chilled him to the bone. The decision ought to be simple. But it was not. Perhaps his mother had been right about him all along and he
was
a blackhearted monster.
• • •
Rays of sunshine permeated Grace’s cloak and offered comfort against the harsh wind. Emma guided her to the chapel as quickly as the gravel path would allow, pointing out larger rocks and the divots forged by the recent rain. She stumbled once or twice but didn’t care, so great was her desire to see Brother Anselm.
Devlin’s cool departure weighed on her. Was he angry at her about the kiss? Her fingers brushed along her swollen lips, and she recalled her passionate response. He must think her insane. One minute she admonished him for thinking her a loose woman, and the next she melted into his embrace, a willing participant.
But, Lord help her, she couldn’t resist the fire he flamed in her belly. She’d never imagined a man might want to slip his tongue into her mouth, nor how wonderful the sensation might feel. Perhaps she ought to consult with Emma on the topic of men and women. She’d heard whispers in the tavern, and once, when she was a young girl, she’d seen her dog mount a bitch. But that was the extent of her knowledge. Speaking with Brother Anselm was out of the question.
Emma ushered Grace through the back door of the chapel, where the living quarters could be found, and ensured she was safe in the care of Brother Anselm before departing for the mansion.
Grace’s nostrils filled with the welcoming fragrance of mint tea and raspberry. The air caressing her skin was warm, and a fire crackled nearby.
“Are those raspberry scones I smell, Brother Anselm?” she asked with a grin forming on her lips. “You’ve endeared yourself to Abigail. So quickly? You were gone half the morning, if I am to believe Captain Limmerick.”
Brother Anselm took her cloak. “Priorities, my dear.”
She chuckled and waited for his return. He guided her to a wooden chair and table set nestled next to the wall. A slight chill and howling of the
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