Deception (Infidelity #3)(58)

According to Article XII, if anything happened to Alexandria prior to her ability to wed Bryce, both Alton and I would be left without access to Montague assets. I supposed that it was my father’s way of protecting his youngest heir.

What I couldn’t understand was why Charles Montague II decided to add the codicil and why he did it just before his death. Could my father have known about Alton’s mistreatment of me and regretted his earlier decisions and the faith he’d given to my husband?

My father was a proud and determined man who, in a moment of uncertainty about the future of his beloved company and assets, made a deal with the devil, using his daughter and granddaughter as collateral. The mere possibility that in my father’s final days he’d decided to right that wrong gave me a new and unusual feeling of empowerment. Just maybe, for once, Charles Montague realized that his daughter and granddaughter were more important than Montague. Perhaps he saw the monster he’d helped create and with a sense of dread at what might happen upon his own demise, Charles II regretted his decision.

My newfound paternal appreciation was muddied with thoughts of his demise.

I held tightly to my wine glass, wrapping both hands around the globe.

The Montague Private Collection chardonnay sloshed within the goblet as I began to tremble. It was after six o’clock, yet since my discovery, I’d avoided my normal reds. The lighter white wine didn’t dull my senses the way the red did. With my new knowledge of the codicil, I couldn’t afford to slip into my previous preferred state of oblivion. However, as my thoughts volleyed and settled around thoughts of my father, I couldn’t seem to control the way I shook. It was as if I were cold, despite my long-sleeved robe and the soft throw over my legs.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. No longer seeing the manicured lawns, I worked to calm the theories that vigorously bombarded my mind.

Maybe I should call for a cabernet?

I didn’t want to consider the possibility that lingered outside of my consciousness: the idea that my father’s death wasn’t the result of his age. It wasn’t the result of a high level of stress. That maybe—just maybe—there was a more sinister explanation and that explanation was the man who had slept beside me for nearly twenty years.

I’d be hard-pressed to compile a list of my husband’s finer qualities, but never had I considered murder. Then again, my father was guilty of the same crime, and Alton had always strived to emulate Charles Montague.

Shaking my head, I lifted the crystal to my lips and enjoyed the unique blend of the Montague chardonnay. With a hint of citrus as well as pear, it went down smoothly, its light flavor teasing my palate but doing little to derail my train of thought.

I took another drink.

I couldn’t think about my father’s death. Instead, I needed to concentrate on what he’d done during his life—on the codicil. Since leaving Ralph’s office, I had more and more questions. I planned to revisit Stephen once Alton left town again. I wanted to know who had viewed the will over the years and when. In all of Stephen’s and my exploration, I’d forgotten to take a good look at the ledger. I also wanted to know which judge in Savannah had the fortitude to deny my husband his request to void the codicil. That would be a judge I’d want on my side.

Another question that lingered in my mind was how I could prove Alton’s involvement in sabotaging the wedding. I was convinced that Alexandria was purposely persuaded to visit Del Mar the same week as Lennox Demetri was there.

My theory centered around Oren.

Over time, Alton had made innuendos, accusing me of infidelity. While I was certain that it was his own promiscuity that made him suspicious, more than once he’d mentioned Oren Demetri. Thankfully, Alton never had evidence. Our affair was the one endeavor that I managed to successfully conspire to keep under Alton’s radar. Our rendezvous were well planned and orchestrated. Whenever the topic reared its ugly head, my obvious defense was Alton’s reaction the night in New York after Oren and I had only spoken. Why would I risk my husband’s wrath after that?

To Alton’s knowledge, I’d never lied to him. In many ways, I believed he thought himself above my deception. What the great Alton Fitzgerald didn’t realize was that I’d been taught to deceive by the best.

When I finally broke off my relationship with Oren, it was for one reason: I wanted more of him—his companionship, his adoration, his love. I wanted a life unlike anything I’d ever before known. I wanted it more than I wanted anything else.

Each touch, each kiss, each encounter was but a grain of sand filling the hourglass of my life. With him, I was no longer empty. As the individual grains began to accumulate, the need to be with him was all-consuming.

When we were apart, I thought of him and the way his pale blue eyes scanned my soul. The way he looked at me was more than a scan of my body. Oren Demetri saw inside of me. He knew my innermost thoughts, sometimes even before I did. His voice sent shivers down my spine. Even the memory of his tenor prickled my skin. His touch was like no other I’d ever experienced. A master at his craft, Oren never took, but gave in a way that made me hungry for more.

I’d almost agreed to Oren’s requests, leaving Alton, Montague Manor, and everything I’d strived for in my life. He offered me a home and a life—not just me, but Alexandria too. In Oren’s arms I no longer cared about my heritage or duties. In his embrace I was simply a woman, in love, being loved.