Devils Bride

you?'

Charles regarded her without expression; Honoria felt her heart slow. Then he lifted one brow in typically arrogant Cynster style. 'You're very perceptive, my dear.' He smiled, a slight curve of his lips. 'And, as you'll die shortly, I don't suppose there's any harm telling you.' He looked directly into her eyes. 'My name may be Cynster, but I've never been one of them-I've always felt closer to my mother's family. They're all dead now.'

Bracing one hand on the gig, Charles looked into the wood, his eyes glowing. 'I'm the last of the Butterworths-an infinitely superior breed, not that any Cynsters would admit that.' His lips curved mockingly. 'Soon, they won't have a choice. Once I take over the reins, I plan to change the family entirely-not just in the behavior associated with our name, but I'll change the name, too.' He looked at Honoria. 'There's nothing to stop me.'

Honoria stared in openmouthed amazement. Smiling, Charles nodded. 'Oh, yes-it can be done. But that was how it was meant to be-the Butterworths were destined to become the main line; my mother was to be the duchess. That's why she married Arthur.'

'But-' Honoria blinked. 'What about…'

'Sylvester's father?' Charles's expression turned petulant. 'Mama didn't expect him to many. When she married Arthur, it seemed all clear-eventually Arthur would inherit, then his son. Me.' His frown grew black. 'Then that slut Helena wriggled her hips and Uncle Sebastian fell for it, and Sylvester was born. But even then, my mother knew all would eventually be well-after Devil, Helena couldn't have any more brats, which left father, then me, next in line.' Charles trapped Honoria's gaze. 'Do you want to know why

I left it so long? Why I waited until now to make away with Sylvester?' Honoria nodded.

Charles sighed. 'I was explaining that point to Mama, to her portrait, when Tolly came in that night. I didn't hear him-that cretin Holthorpe let him show himself in. Fitting enough that because of his laziness, Holthorpe had to die.' His voice had turned vicious; Charles blinked, then refocused on Honoria. 'As I told Mama, I needed a reason-I couldn't simply kill Sylvester and hope no one noticed. When he was young, Vane was always with him- the accidents I engineered never worked. I waited, but they never grew apart. Worse-Richard joined them, then the rest.' Charles's lips curled. 'The Bar Cynster.' His voice strengthened, his features hardened. 'They've been a thorn in my side for years. I want Sylvester dead in a way that will wean them, and the rest of the family, from their adulation. I want the title-I want the power.' His eyes glowed. 'Over them all.'

Abruptly, his face changed, his features leaching of all expression. 'I promised Mama I'd take the title, even if she wasn't here to see it. The Butterworths were always meant to triumph-I explained to her why I'd held off for so long and why I thought, perhaps, with Devil becoming so restless, the time might, at last, have come.'

Again, he was with his past; Honoria sat perfectly still, content to have his attention elsewhere. The next instant, he turned on her viciously. 'But then you came-and my time ran out completely!'

Honoria shrank back; the horse shifted, coat flickering. Charles's eyes blazed; for an instant, she thought he might strike her.

Instead, with a visible effort, he drew back, struggling to control his features. When he was again composed, he continued, his tone conversational: 'Initially, I thought you too intelligent to fall for Devil's tricks.' His gaze flicked her contemptuously. 'I was wrong. I warned you marrying Sylvester was a mistake. You'll lose your life because of it, but you were too stupid to listen. I'm not going to risk being moved further from my goal. Arthur's old-he'll be no trouble. But if you and any son you bear survive Devil, I'll have all the rest of them to contend with-they'll never let Devil's son out of their sight!'

Clutching the back of the gig tightly, Honoria kept her eyes locked on Charles's, and prayed that either Devil or Vane had arrived in time to hear at least some of his ranting. He'd taken the rope she'd handed him and run, unreeling enough to hang himself twice over.

Charles drew a deep breath and looked away, into the woods. He straightened; letting go of the gig, he tugged his coat into place.

Honoria grabbed the moment to look around-she still had the feeling someone was watching. But not even a twig shifted in the wood.

She'd achieved her primary objective. Her disappearance and death would give proof enough of Charles's guilt; Melton could testify Charles had lured her away. Devil would be safe-free of Charles and his endless machinations. But she'd much rather be alive to share the celebrations, and to enjoy their child. She definitely didn't want to die.

Charles grabbed her-Honoria shrieked. Dropping the reins, she struggled, but he was far too strong. He hauled her from the gig.

They wrestled, waltzing in the leaves carpeting the clearing. Snorting, the grey backed; Charles bumped the gig. The horse bolted, the gig rattling behind it. Honoria saw it go, caught by a sense of deja vu. Another grey horse bolting with another gig, this time leaving her stranded with the murderer, not his victim. She was to be the next victim.

Locking one arm about her throat, Charles hauled her upright.

'Charles!'

Devil's roar filled the clearing; Honoria nearly fainted. She looked wildly about; holding her before him, Charles swung her this way, then that, but couldn't locate Devil's position. Charles cursed; the next instant, Honoria felt the hard muzzle of a pistol pressing beneath her left breast.

'Come out, Sylvester-or do you want to see your wife shot before your eyes?'

Pushing her head back, Honoria glimpsed Charles's face, full of gloating, his eyes glittering wildly. Frantic, she tried struggling; Charles squeezed her throat. Raising his elbow, he forced her chin up; she had to stretch on her toes, losing all purchase on the ground.

'Devil?' Honoria spoke to the sky. 'Don't you dare come out-do you hear? I'll never forgive you if you do-so don't.' Panic gripped her, sinking its talons deep; black shadows danced across her eyes. 'I don't want you to save me. You'll have other children, there's no need to save me.' Her voice broke; tears choked her. A dull roaring filled her ears. She didn't want to be saved if the price was his life.

In the ditch, Devil checked his pistol. Vane, brows nearly reaching his hairline, stared at him. 'Other children?'

Devil swore through his teeth. 'Fine time she picks to announce her condition.'

'You knew?'

'One of the prime requirements of being a duke-you have to be able to count.' His face grimly set, Devil stuck his pistol into the back of his waistband and resettled his coat. 'Make for the other end of the ditch, beyond the track.'

Honoria was babbling hysterically; he couldn't afford to listen. He pulled Tolly's hip flask from his pocket; he'd carried it since Louise had given it back to him, a reminder of his unavenged cousin. Working feverishly, he wriggled the flask into the inside left breast pocket of his coat; swearing softly, he carefully ripped the lining-finally, the flask slid in. Resettling his coat, he checked the position of the flask. Vane stared. 'I don't believe this.'

'Believe it,' Devil advised. He looked up; Honoria was still in full spate. Charles, his pistol at her breast, scanned the wood.

'I don't suppose there's any point trying to talk you out of it?' On his back, Vane checked his pistol. When Devil made no reply, he sighed. 'I didn't think so.'

'Sylvester?'

'Here, Charles.'

The answer allowed Charles to face in their general direction. 'Stand up. And don't bring any pistol with you.'

'You do realize,' Vane hissed, wriggling onto his stomach, 'that this wild idea of yours has the potential to severely dint the family's vaunted invincibility?'

'How so?' Devil unbuttoned his coat, making sure the buttons hung well clear of his left side.

'When Charles kills you, I'll kill Charles, then your mother will kill me for allowing Charles to kill you. This madness of yours looks set to account for three of us in one fell swoop.'

Devil snorted. 'You're starting to sound like Honoria.'

'A woman of sound sense.'