ignorance for long. Not his Honoria Prudence. Which meant that the only way he could keep her out of danger was to remove the danger-by laying Tolly's killer by the heels.

Pushing aside his plate, he looked at Vane. 'What have you learned?'

Vane grimaced. 'Let's go into the smoking room.'

They found a deserted nook and settled in; Vane began without preamble. 'Basically, I was right. My source has checked every-'

'Excuse me, Your Grace.'

They both looked up; one of the club's footmen stood at Devil's elbow, proffering a salver bearing a folded note. 'This arrived a moment ago, Your Grace. The man was most insistent it be delivered to you immediately.'

'Thank you.' Taking the letter, Devil broke the seal, absentmindedly nodding a dismissal. Unfolding the letter, he scanned it-Vane saw his face harden. Devil's eyes flicked back up to the start of the letter, his face unreadable, he read it through again.

'Well?' Vane asked, when Devil looked up.

Devil's brows rose. 'Something's come up.' He didn't meet Vane's eyes. 'An unexpected development.' Refolding the letter, he rose. 'You'll have to excuse me-I'll send for you as soon as I'm free.'

With that, he turned and, putting the letter in one pocket, walked out.

Stunned, Vane stared after him. Then his face hardened. 'Honoria Prudence-what the devil have you got up to now?'

*****

'No! Wait! You can't just walk out the door.'

'Why not?' Honoria swung around.

Holding a cold compress to the bridge of his nose, Chillingworth followed her up the hall. 'Because there's no sense in taking unnecessary chances. Your husband's not going to appreciate this as it is-there's no sense in making things worse.' Setting the compress down on the hall table, he looked her over. 'Your bonnet's not straight.'

Lips compressed, Honoria swung to face the mirror. Adjusting her bonnet, she studied Chillingworth's reflection. He was still very pale; she wasn't sure it was wise to leave him-his servants had not yet returned. On the other hand, she could understand his insistence that she leave without delay. 'There!' She turned. 'Does that meet with your approval?'

Chillingworth narrowed his eyes. 'You'll pass.' He met her gaze. 'And don't forget-show that note to Devil as soon as you see him. Don't wait for him to ask.'

Honoria lifted her chin.

Chillingworth eyed it with open disapproval. 'Thank the heavens you're his and not mine. Wait here while I check if anyone's about. Like your grandfather or his butler.'

Honoria watched as he opened the door; standing on the front step, he looked up and down the street.

'All clear.' Chillingworth held the door open. 'Other than your hackney, there's no one in sight.'

Head high, Honoria swept out, then stopped and looked back. She frowned. 'Don't forget to lie down with your feet higher than your head. And for goodness sake put that compress back, or your eye will be worse than it need be.'

For the second time that day, Chillingworth's jaw dropped. Momentarily. Then he glowered. 'Good God, woman-get going!'

Honoria blinked. 'Yes, well-take care of yourself.' With that, she turned and briskly descended the steps. Gaining the pavement, she saw her hackney waiting. She glanced the other way-a black carriage rolled slowly around the corner into Green Street. Behind her, Chillingworth's latch clicked. It was after four; dusk was drawing in. As Chillingworth had said, there was no one about. With an inward sigh, Honoria started along the pavement.

She didn't see the dark figure, cloaked in black, who emerged from the area stairs beside Chillingworth's steps. She had no inkling, felt no presentiment of danger, when the figure drew close, looming behind her. Harness jingled, hooves clacked as the black carriage drew abreast of her, blocking out the hackney. Honoria glanced at the carriage-a black pall dropped over her, cutting off the light, wrapping her in impenetrable folds. She gasped, and grasped the material, only to feel it wind tighter. She opened her mouth to scream; a hard hand clapped over her lips.

Honoria froze. An arm like steel wound about her waist and lifted her.

She didn't struggle but patiently waited for Devil to set her down. He eventually did-on the carriage seat. The carriage jerked and picked up speed. 'Wait!' Still enveloped in what she assumed was Devil's cloak, Honoria struggled to break free. 'What about Sligo?'

Silence.

Then, 'Sligo?' Devil sounded as if he couldn't believe his ears.

'You ordered him to watch over me, remember?' Honoria wrestled with the cloak. The next instant, it was lifted from her-she let out an explosive breath, and discovered her husband watching her with an expression she couldn't read at all. 'He's in the hackney, waiting for me.'

Devil stared at her, then, frowning dazedly, shook his head. 'Wait here.'

He tapped on the hatch and ordered John Coachman to pull over, then leapt down. Honoria heard him stride back along the pavement. She couldn't see anything; the flaps were all down.

Two minutes later, the carriage dipped as Sligo scrambled up behind.

'Around the park until I say otherwise.' Devil yanked open the door, climbed in, closed the door, then resumed his seat beside her.

The carriage lurched into motion; Devil met Honoria's wide, totally open gaze. He drew a careful breath, trying to disguise the tension that still held him. 'Perhaps you'd better tell me what's going on.'

He'd obviously made a horrendous mistake-he didn't want her to guess what he'd thought, how he'd felt, when he'd seen Chillingworth, stripped to his shirt, look out of his door, then seen her come waltzing out, turning back for a few last words before strolling away.

From the depths of the area, he hadn't been able to hear her words; his imagination, however, had supplied words enough, with actions to match. Her betrayal had chilled him; the thought that her declaration of love had been worthless-mere words without meaning-had struck him to the heart. Black rage had consumed him, far beyond mere temper; he could barely remember following her. He could remember the instant when he'd held her trapped before him-and thought how easy it would be to put an end to the torment before it began. The recollection left him chilled, even as relief poured through him. Guilt over his lack of trust made him inwardly ache.

Honoria was watching him, a frown forming in her eyes. Devil cleared his throat. 'Sligo said you got a note?'

He threw out the question to get her talking-instead, she frowned more definitely. 'I told you about the note in my letter.'

Devil slowly blinked. 'What letter?'

Rummaging in her reticule, Honoria dragged a sheet from the clutter. 'I got this-

Devil took it and scanned it, then glanced accusingly at her.

She tilted her chin. 'It said I had to come immediately, so I wrote you a letter explaining and asked Sligo to deliver it; he knew you were at White's. I didn't know you'd ordered him to stay by me-he sent Daley to deliver my letter so he could obey your orders.'

Devil frowned, then looked down at the note. 'I didn't get your letter-I must have left before Daley arrived.' The admission was past his lips before he'd considered.

'But-' Honoria's brow was a mass of furrows. 'If you didn't get my letter, why are you here?'

Devil stilled. A minute passed; slowly, he lifted his head and met Honoria's puzzled gaze. She searched his face-abruptly, he looked down. 'I came because I got this.' He forced himself to draw the folded note from his pocket. He didn't want to give it to her, but her straightforwardness, her honesty-her love-left him no choice. His heart a leaden weight in his chest, he handed it over.

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