Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
GRACE
The journey back to Oakleigh is quite possibly the most uncomfortable twelve hours of my life.
Occasionally, I doze off, but every time I open my eyes, I meet Alexander’s fearsome glower.
If Christian and I stand a chance of saving our relationship, I have some groveling to do.
At least Charles greeted me with kindness and understanding.
If Alexander is representative of the rest of the family, though, I’m in for a long walk back into the graces of this family.
Once I believed that they didn’t forgive betrayal, they buried it, but I was wrong. They don’t bury betrayal. They face it head on. I have no choice other than to do the same thing.
George and Alice haven’t spoken a single word, not to each other or to their family. Apart from a surprised flare in his eyes when Christian and I boarded the helicopter back on Isla Oscura, he hasn’t reacted at all.
I wonder what they’ll do to him. Not that it’s any of my business. I have enough shit of my own to deal with.
The plane lands in heavy rain and strong winds, and the chill that skates over my skin as I make my way down the airplane steps to the car waiting on the tarmac draws a sigh out of me.
I love my country, but the weather leaves a lot to be desired.
I haven’t told Arron or Juliet what’s happening.
I’m simply too exhausted. Any spare energy I have is needed to handle the difficult conversations ahead.
To my intense relief, Charles and Alexander head to one car, George and Alice to a second, flanked on either side by armed bodyguards, leaving a third car for Christian and me. Just escaping Alexander’s scowl eases the kinks in my neck. As soon as the door closes, I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Glad to be home?”
I trace a drop of rain sliding down the window with my finger. “Glad to be out of the line of fire.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I twist my head to the right. “I know I’ve got a lot of making up to do, but Alexander has the fearsome glare down to a T. He stared daggers at me for twelve hours straight.”
Christian’s frown deepens. “I didn’t see… ohh.” He laughs. “It wasn’t you he was glaring at. The piece of shit formerly known as our uncle was in the seat behind you.”
The tension that has ridden me for over half a day slides off my shoulders. “I thought… never mind.”
Reaching across the spare seat between us, Christian gathers my hand in his.
“He has a lot on his mind. What George did is something we’re all struggling to process, but for Xan…
to know you’re the product of a rape, and not from some twat of a stranger, which would be horrific in itself, but a family member… ” He shakes his head. “It’s a lot.”
Shame crawls up my throat like bile. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it all about me.”
“Grace, relax.” His thumb runs back and forth over my knuckles. “My family understands, even if they are hurt. And for what it’s worth, both Imogen and Victoria are firmly on Team Grace.”
“They are?”
“Yep. The night I told you to run, I had a heart to heart with my family. I’d planned to confess all my secrets to you first, but then Taylor snatched me, gave me a beating, and forced my hand.
Victoria, in true Victoria style, wasn’t backward in coming forward.
She laid it on the line, in no uncertain terms, that she understood your motivations. It gave me a lot of food for thought.”
“Yet you didn’t come until I called. Why?”
His nostrils flare with an intake of breath. “Simple. I wanted to punish you. I wanted you fearful and looking over your shoulder, wondering when I’d show up to make you pay for what you did.”
It’s nothing I hadn’t already guessed, but to hear him admit it causes a pain in my chest. “Mission accomplished.”
“Here’s the thing, though. Seeing how frightened you were back at the hotel, how you flinched when I went to tuck your hair out of the way didn’t make me feel powerful or justified in my actions. It made me feel ashamed.”
“Don’t.” I tug my hand from his. “Don’t excuse what I did. I knew my actions would have consequences, yet I went ahead with the plan anyway. At the time, getting the truth at any cost was worth it.”
He takes my hand again, holding onto it firmly, a silent message he isn’t letting go. “And now?”
“I need to sit with that for a minute. Knowing what I knew then, my actions made sense. But maybe if I hadn’t let my uncle run the show, I might have found the courage to act differently.”
His lips part. “You think what you did wasn’t courageous?
Jesus, Grace. I am well aware of my family’s reputation outside of our close-knit circles.
Some of it is earned, and some of it is pure fantasy or conjecture, but you didn’t know which was which, yet you voluntarily put yourself right in the middle of what you believed was danger to honor your parents’ memory.
To find the truth, whatever it took. If that isn’t courage, I don’t fucking know what is. ”
He releases my hand and reaches around the back of his neck, removing a thin gold chain I’ve never seen him wear before. But it’s what’s on the end of the chain that causes my throat to clog with emotions.
“My rings,” I whisper.
“Your rings.” He takes my hand and slides both my wedding and engagement rings onto my finger.
“How did you find them?”
“A few phone calls. It wasn’t difficult. I guessed you’d pawn them to free up some cash.”
“I hated doing it,” I whisper, shame sticking to me like tar. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“This isn’t on you. It’s on me. I gave you no choice.”
My eyes fill with tears. I blink them away. “Don’t be nice to me. Please. I’m hanging on by my fingertips here.”
The pad of Christian’s thumb caresses my cheekbone. “Let go, Grace. I’ll catch you. I’d never let you fall.”
That does it. The dam bursts, and rivers of tears pour from my eyes.
He unclips my seat belt and lifts me onto his lap, stroking my back and murmuring encouragement as I expunge the grief, sorrow, and bone-deep hurt I’ve carried inside me for almost a year. I’m still in pieces and still on his lap when the car stops outside Oakleigh.
“Home sweet home, Duchess.”
More tears stream down my face. Christian carries me into the house, which is just as well.
I’m not sure my legs would hold me up. My entire skeleton has turned to jelly, exhaustion from the exorcism of anguish swamping me.
We don’t see a soul as he carries me up the several flights of stairs to his suite, and I’m glad of it.
I can’t face anyone tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, or even the day after that.
Gently, he sets me down on the couch, then moves to the windows to close the curtains. I scrub my face, trying to wake myself up. My body clock doesn’t know which way is up.
“Do you want to go first?” I ask Christian.
“Neither of us is going first tonight. You’re going to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re refreshed.”
I can’t say I’m not relieved because I am, especially as I can barely keep my eyes open.
“And what about you?”
He runs a hand over his face, forehead to chin. “Dad wants me in his office. Go to bed, Grace.”
The door to his apartment clicks shut, leaving me alone.
Fatigued, I clamber to my feet and make it into the bedroom. I’ve every intention of calling Arron to let him know I’m back in the country, but jet lag has other ideas.
I fall flat on my face and let the sweet call of sleep take me.