Page 128 of The Devil’s Lair

Chapter Thirty-Eight

REBECCA

Nerves swarm my stomach, and no matter how many deep breaths I take, they won’t quit. It’s stupid considering I hold all the cards and Felicity holds none. Even with Tobias’s solid support by my side, I can’t help this feeling of foreboding. I guess it’s understandable. Felicity tried to take my daughter from me, and that’s something that will stay with me for a very long time.

I promised myself I’d give her a chance, but I’ll be watching her like a hawk. If she says one wrong word to Isla or tries to turn my daughter against me, she will never see her again. Facts I plan to tell her once we’re settled at the restaurant.

I’m glad I insisted we held this meeting in public. The thought of being in Felicity’s house, where I used to go with Marcus, makes me want to lurch into the nearest toilet and throw up. Every day I spend married to Tobias is another day where I think of Marcus less and less. The last thing I need are more reminders of how much he put me and Isla through. A neutral setting is the right decision.

I am surprised, though, that Felicity didn’t argue. She’s being entirely too reasonable, which makes me suspicious. I hope the time away from Isla, and me having the added protection of being a De Vil, has given her a chance to think and maybe mend her ways. I’m not holding out much hope, but I also don’t want to begrudge Isla contact with her only grandmother. Lord knows, I’d never introduce her to my mother, so Felicity is her one and only chance to have that relationship.

As long as Felicity doesn’t fuck it up and be, well, Felicity, this could work. And despite what she probably thinks, I want it to work. For Isla. She deserves to know her grandparents, although it’s only Felicity today. Apparently, there’s some big vote in Parliament that Preston has to attend, meaning he can’t be here.

Benton accompanies me, Tobias, and Isla into the hotel. He takes up station right outside the restaurant entrance, his expert gaze sweeping the room. The maître d’ leads us to the table, where Felicity is already waiting, playing with the strap on her handbag. Looks as though I’m not the only nervous one.

“Felicity.”

She looks up. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“I said I would.”

“You always were a woman of your word.” A thin smile makes her lips even thinner. “Thank you for bringing Isla.” She holds out her arms. “Darling, do you have a hug for Grandma?”

Isla hesitates. After she’s looked at me and Tobias for guidance, she edges forward and accepts a hug from her grandmother.

“You’ve grown so much. Such a big girl.”

Isla pulls back. “Big.”

Felicity’s jaw drops. “She’s talking.”

“No thanks to your son,” Tobias says.

Her eyes cool. “So, that’s how it’s going to be?”

“We’re thrilled she’s talking again,” I interject. “But it’s hard not to stay bitter at the reason she stopped talking in the first place.”

I’m unsure how much Marcus told his mother, but the fact she doesn’t ask me what I mean tells me everything I need to know. She’s aware of what he did, and she still stands by him. I wonder where her line was, and where mine would be with Isla.

“Here, sweetheart, come and sit with me.” Tobias takes a seat at the table and lifts Isla onto his lap.

Felicity’s face twists, as though she’s sucked on a particularly bitter lime. She catches me looking and smooths her expression. “Sorry. It’s difficult to see her with a man who isn’t her father.”

Somehow, I bite my tongue and stop myself from snapping “Tobias is more of a father to her than Marcus ever was, and I can’t wait for him to be recognized in law as her daddy.” This isn’t the time to tell Felicity about the adoption. Besides, even though she’s lost every legal battle in relation to Isla, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to block the motion.

“Shall we order?” Tobias says, beckoning to the server, as eager as I am to get this over with.

“You’re different,” Felicity says after the server retreats. “Confident. I hardly recognize you.”

“I’m allowed to be myself without fear of retribution,” I say, voice low. “Tobias would never, ever hurt me.”

Felicity flicks out her napkin before laying it in her lap. “I don’t make excuses for what my son did, and for what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

That’s the funny thing, though. For years, she made excuses for him. Her selective memory is almost laughable.

“I just want to put everything behind us and have a relationship with my granddaughter.”

“I said I would give this a chance, and I will. But there are rules, Felicity.”