Devils Bride

Vane inclined his head. 'I assumed Charles would have ensured Mick was told in time to come up for the funeral-he must have been more distraught than we realized. As it transpired, there was something of a scene. According to the landlord, Mick stormed out. According to Charles, Mick was so cut up over Tolly's death that he decided to quit London and return to his family in Ireland.'

Harry looked wary. 'Do we know Mick's surname?'

'O'Shannessy,' Richard supplied.

Devil frowned. 'Do we know where his family live?'

Vane shook his head.

Harry sighed. 'I'm due in Ireland within the week to look over some brood mares. I could see if I can ferret out our Mick O'Shannessy.'

Devil nodded. 'Do.' His features hardened. 'And when you find him, aside from our questions, make sure Charles took proper care of him. If not, make the usual arrangements and have the accounts sent to me.'

Harry nodded.

'Incidentally,' Vane said, 'Charles's man, Holthorpe, has also left for greener fields-in his case, to America.'

'America?' Lucifer exclaimed.

'Apparently Holthorpe had saved enough to visit his sister there. When Charles returned from Somersham, Holthorpe was gone. Charles's new man has rather less presence than Sligo and goes by the name of Smiggs.'

Harry snorted. 'Sounds like he'll suit Charles.'

Lucifer sighed. 'So where do we search next?'

Devil frowned. 'We must be overlooking something.'

Vane grinned wryly. 'But not even the devil knows what it is.'

Devil humphed. 'Unfortunately not. But if Tolly stumbled on someone's illegal or scandalous secret, then, presumably, if we try hard enough, we can learn that same secret.'

'And whose secret it is,' Gabriel, somewhat grimly, added.

'It could be anything,' Lucifer said. 'Tolly could have heard it from a man on a corner or from some silly chit in a ballroom.'

'Which is why we'll need to cast our net wide. Whatever it is must be out there somewhere-we'll have to trawl.' Devil scanned their dissatisfied but still-determined faces. 'I can't see that we have any choice other than to keep searching until we have some facts to work on.'

Gabriel nodded. 'You're right.' He stood and met Devil's eye, a lilting smile curving his lips. 'None of us are about to desert.'

The others nodded; unhurriedly, they left, restrained impatience in their eyes. Devil saw them out. He turned back to the library, then hesitated. Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder. 'Webster-'

'I believe Miss Anstruther-Wetherby is in the upstairs parlor, Your Grace.'

Devil nodded and started up the stairs. Their lack of progress hung heavily on his mind; Honoria's wish to involve herself in the hunt was an added irritant-seducing her to his side was proving difficult enough without that complication. Gaining the top of the stairs, he smiled, grimly. There was more than one way of spiking a gun- presumably the same held true for loose cannon.

The parlor door opened noiselessly; Honoria was pacing before the hearth. She didn't hear him enter. She was muttering in distinctly forceful fashion; as Devil neared, he caught the words 'fair' and 'stubborn beast.'

Honoria glanced up-and jumped back. Devil caught her by the elbows and yanked her to him, away from the fire.

Breathless, her heart in her mouth, Honoria pushed him away. He released her instantly; her inner shaking didn't stop. Furious, on any number of points, she put her hands on her hips and glared. 'Don't do that!' She batted aside a distracting curl. 'Hasn't anyone ever told you it's unacceptable to sneak up on people?'

'I wasn't sneaking.' Devil's expression remained mild. 'You didn't hear me-you were too busy rehearsing your lecture.'

Honoria blinked; caution belatedly seeped into her mind.

'Now I'm here,' Devil continued, 'why don't you deliver it?' The invitation was the opposite of encouraging. 'On the other hand,' his brows quirked, 'you might care to hear what my cousins had to report.'

Honoria was bottling up so much spleen, she felt she might explode. There was, she understood, an 'either or' buried in his words. If she poured out the tirade she'd spent the last hour preparing, she wouldn't hear what had been learned of Tolly's killer. Her head hurt. 'Very well-tell me what you and your cousins have found out.'

Devil gestured to the chaise; he waited until she sat, then settled his long frame in the opposite corner. 'Unfortunately, thus far, despite considerable effort, we've turned up precisely nothing. No hint whatever of what it was that set Tolly on the road to Somersham.'

'Nothing?' Honoria searched his face; there was no hint of evasion in his eyes. 'Where did you look and what were you searching for?'

Devil told her; she drank in his description of the others' particular strengths and the gamut of their investigations. She was confident he wasn't lying; she did wonder if he was telling her the whole truth. She quizzed him, but his answers remained consistent. 'So what now?'

In the distance, they heard the dinner gong boom. 'Now,' he said, rising gracefully and holding out his hand, 'we keep searching.' He'd explained they were looking for someone else's secret. 'Until we have a scent to follow, we can do nothing more.'

Honoria wasn't so certain of that. She allowed him to draw her to her feet. 'Perhaps-'

One long finger slid beneath her chin; Devil tipped her face up to his. 'I'll keep you informed of developments, Honoria Prudence.'

His voice deepened on her name. Mesmerized, Honoria saw the color of his eyes change, a gleam silvering their depths. His gaze shifted, dropping to her lips; she felt them soften, part, felt her lids grow heavy.

'Ah… yes.' Breathless, she lifted her chin from his finger and stepped sideways, bringing the door into view. 'I'd better change.'

One black brow rose, but beyond that and a quizzical glance, he made no comment, escorting her to the door and holding it while she made good her escape. It was only when, half an hour later, she sat before her mirror for her maid, Cassie, to do her hair, that understanding dawned.

He'd told her what they'd discovered-nothing. He'd promised to keep her apprised of developments-eyes narrowing, Honoria realized he meant after they'd been acted upon. Even more telling, he'd prevented her from offering to assist-so that he wouldn't have to refuse and make it plain that she was still not permitted any meaningful involvement.

When she entered the drawing room, she was poised and assured, able to meet Devil's eye with calm serenity. Throughout the meal, she remained distant, listening to the conversation with but half an ear, her mind busy formulating her investigative strategy.

Nothing useful had yet been discovered, which left the field wide open. As for His Grace's antiquated notions, she was sure that, when she discovered the vital secret, he wouldn't be able to deny her. How could he?- she wouldn't tell him until after, until it was too late for him to exclude her.

Chapter 11

Investigating Tolly's murder proved more difficult than she'd thought. While his cousins had entree to Tolly's largely male world, Honoria did not. Likewise, they knew Tolly, his habits, his interests. On the other hand, she reasoned, she could view his last days impartially, the facts uncolored by preconceived notions. Besides, women were notoriously more observant than men.

Tolly's youngest aunt, Celia, had been elected by the conclave of Cynster wives to give the first 'at home,' a declaration to the ton that the family had emerged from deepest mourning. Even Louise