Page 24 of The Devil’s Submission

“In my office?”

“No. The harem says that room needs a thorough scrubbing, so Sin has made his private parlor available.”

Devil frowned but turned and left the ballroom. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and no suppliers had made appointments to see him. Curiosity overwhelmed, he almost ran to Sin’s parlor, just remembering to slow down and walk through the door like someone who still possessed all their faculties.

“Hello, Gray.”

Shock froze him to the spot, and he could only stare as his once-beloved older brother Peter, Viscount Upton, hesitantly approached him. Eventually he found his tongue. “What…what are you doing here?”

“Your wife arrived on my doorstep and insisted I accompany her back here,” said Peter, his voice oddly hoarse, and his face strained. “I thought she might shoot me if I did not. Fiery little baggage, isn’t she?”

A boulder lodged in his throat. Eliza had done this? “Yes. Yes she is. I’m not sure—”

“I invited Lord Upton,” said a brisk voice to his right, “because it is long past time you spoke.”

Devil turned, drinking in the welcome sight of Eliza. She was here. She hadn’t left him. And she had brought him a gift beyond price.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he looked again at Peter. His brother remained taller and broader, but the Deveraux black hair was there in abundance, and Deveraux green eyes stared back at him with equal hesitancy and intense study. “I see.”

“I’m very glad she did, Gray,” said Peter. “So perhaps we could talk for a bit and I could beg your forgiveness.”

“For what?” he replied slowly, resisting the urge to pinch himself at this miracle taking place. “You weren’t even here when Reyburn disowned me. You were traveling the continent.”

“That’s no excuse,” snapped his brother, pressing his fist to his mouth for a long moment before continuing. “What he did…Christ. When I found out, I hated him so much. But you’d gone, and I didn’t know where. Nobody knew. And then you surfaced again, with this place. I wanted to come and see you, but I was too ashamed. As for your wedding, I will never forgive myself for refusing your invitation. I wanted to come. But bloody Reyburn said he would have me press-ganged into the Navy if I did…and I was too damned cowardly to stand against him.”

“Upton—”

“Peter. I’m just Peter to you.”

Devil closed his eyes. “I missed you. So much. But I wasn’t fit for the likes of you. You’ve always been the better man. Angel to my Devil.”

“Horseshit. You’re my brother. You always have been, and you always will be.”

He blinked, his eyes burning. “Reyburn won’t like it.”

“Reyburn can shove a hot poker up his arse. He can shove his title up there, too. Not that it is worth much anymore, the damned bastard is near bankrupt. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with the estates. Sell the unentailed ones, I guess, but I’m lumped with the rest. A most attractive package for a prospective bride, a penniless title and failing properties.”

“So you’re not married?” said Eliza. “I forgot to ask before.”

Peter sighed. “No. I’ll have to find an heiress. They’ll be lining up for miles now, especially with me as part of the deal.”

“Can’t see why you would be a problem, Peter,” said Devil, frowning.

His brother suddenly grinned, a wicked, mischievous memory straight from their childhood. “As it turns out, little brother, you are not the only Deveraux with, ah, tastes other than the norm. I adore the ladies, but sometimes I, um, rather enjoy the company of a man as well. I’m planning to tell Reyburn and his cronies at the next ball he hosts.”

Amusement welled, and soon Devil couldn’t hold it in. Rocking on his feet, his whole body shaking and tears running down his cheeks, he laughed until his stomach hurt. Peter clapped him on the back, he returned the gesture, and it turned into a hug—for one long, glorious moment time wound back and they were Pete and Gray again, two brothers against the world as they held each other tightly and mourned their lost years.

Finally, he stepped back. “You must join Fallen. You’ll meet all sorts of likeminded men and women, and as a bonus, the news might finish Reyburn off.”

Eliza snorted, her own eyes suspiciously bright. “What Grayson means is that you are always welcome here, Lord Upton. Would you care for tea?”

Peter’s shoulders slumped. “On another occasion, I would like nothing more. But alas today, I have a meeting with my bankers that I cannot miss. I have asked for the truth about my finances, and I am very much afraid they are going to give it to me. But, best to know the ground before you build the castle, correct?”

“If you need funds,” said Devil, “I’d be happy to—”

“Very kind, but no thank you. Just have the brandy ready next time. A special bottle, about three feet tall.”

“Right you are,” he replied, holding out his hand. Peter shook it firmly, clapped him again on the shoulder, then strode from the parlor.