Like her.
From Honoria, with her rich chestnut hair gleaming in the firelight, her gray eyes alert and all-seeing, to Flick, with her guinea gold curls bouncing and her blue eyes bright with interest, these ladies, each in her own way, were bold, determined and decisive.
Why they were the Cynsters’ chosen mates wasn’t any great mystery.
To Deliah, with just a few words exchanged recognizing like-minded souls, meeting them was both eye- opening, and an immense relief.
With these ladies, she could be herself.
Honoria turned aside to speak with a majestic butler who had come to hover by her elbow. “Dinner at eight- thirty, I think, Webster. That will give our latest arrivals time to settle in.” She glanced to where the men had gradually gravitated into a group halfway up the hall. “And allow the gentlemen time to satisfy their collective curiosity.”
On the word, she looked at Deliah, then at the other ladies gathered in the chairs before the fire. “Might I suggest we adjourn to my sitting room? We can sit and chat, and have tea in comfort.”
“And greater privacy.” With a conspiratorial smile, Francesca stood.
Honoria turned to Webster. “Tea in my sitting room, Webster. And please convey my compliments to Mrs. Hull and tell her and Sligo of Miss Duncannon’s arrival, and of the imminent arrival of Miss Duncannon’s household, and the colonel’s, too.”
“Indeed, Your Grace.” Webster bowed low and departed.
As the ladies rose, Devil strolled up. He smiled-innocently-at Honoria. “We’ll be in the library.”
She smiled back, not even feigning innocence. “We’ll be in my sitting room.” With a wave, she sent the other ladies ahead, then linked her arm in Deliah’s and glanced up at her spouse. “We’ll see you all at dinner. Eight- thirty.”
Deliah grinned as, with that parting shot, she was determinedly led to the stairs.
Strolling beside Devil, Del followed the others along the corridor to the library. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’d forgotten you’d have so many children here. For my peace of mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d post guards around the nursery areas.” He met Devil’s green gaze. “Just in case.”
Devil smiled, but it wasn’t a humorous gesture. “It’s already taken care of. And now that Sligo has been reinforced by Cobby, I doubt there’s any likelihood of anyone getting past their pickets.”
Del inclined his head in agreement. Sligo-now Devil’s majordomo-had been Devil’s batman at Waterloo, just as Cobby had been his. The two batmen had forged a friendship under fire, one just as close as their masters’.
Devil paused by an open door, through which the comforting ambiance of a very male library could be glimpsed. He waved Del through. “Come, sit, and tell us the whole story.”
Del preceded him into the luxurious yet comfortable room, and proceeded to do just that.
He told the tale of his mission, from its beginning in the Marquess of Hastings’s office months before. Describing the Black Cobra’s atrocities while sitting in leather-cushioned luxury, a crystal tumbler filled with the finest malt whiskey in his hand, only made the details doubly stark, and even more disturbing.
There were grim looks all around, and softly muttered curses, when he described James MacFarlane’s death.
“He was a good man.” Devil drained his glass, then reached for the decanter. His words were echoed as the others did the same.
Del nodded and continued, detailing the events that had led to the four of them-he, Gareth, Logan, and Rafe- leaving Bombay, then described the action he’d seen on his journey, all the way through to that afternoon. Tony and Gervase supplied their observations, and the outcomes of their attempts to gain some clue as to the Black Cobra’s lair.
Tony shook his dark head. “Until today, we’d seen nary a sign of any cultist. But clearly they’re here-the Lord only knows where he’s hiding them. With their peculiar costume, they’ll have no hope of blending into the scenery.”
Devil met Del’s eyes. “That’s a point we should convey to Wolverstone. We’ll send a rider before dinner. The weath er’s closing in, so we’d better seize the chance to let him know you’ve arrived safely, and that there are indeed cultists about.”
“How far away is he?” Del asked.
“He’s at Elveden Grange, about thirty miles due east.” Devil sipped, then went on, “Our orders are to have all three of you remain, for a few days at least, in the hope-distant though it might be-that the Black Cobra will try a sortie. It’s possible that, not knowing you were headed here, he won’t have had time to do any reconnaissance, and so won’t realize how many ex-cavalry there are in the house.” He paused, head tilted. “If he could throw fourteen at you on the road, it’s possible he might feel he has the numbers for a foray against this place.”
Del grimaced. “That’s a long shot. On his own ground, he’s showy and confident, but he’s been careful, watchful and wary over here.”
Devil levelled a sharp gaze on him. “Don’t disillusion us. You’ll have noticed none of us have taken you to task over reducing the enemy by fourteen, all by yourselves? You were supposed to share.”
Del hid his curving lips behind his glass. “Sorry. Blame our success on Deliah-if it weren’t for her, we’d never have drawn the cultists out.”
Demon snorted. “Typical female. And she killed two as well? Haven’t you explained that’s
Del’s brows rose. “I don’t suppose you’d like to undertake to explain that to her in words she’ll accept?”
Quite a few men choked.
“Once he’s worked out how to do that with
A heavy sigh sounded, drawing all attention to Vane, who’d been prowling behind Devil’s chair. He turned from the window, letting the curtain fall closed. “I hate to further dampen spirits, so to speak, but it’s started snowing.” He looked at Devil. “You’d better get that rider on his way if you want him to reach Elveden tonight.”
There were groans all around.
Devil rose and rang for Sligo.
Del, listening to the others’ predictions, recalled that in that season, in that part of the country, the snowfalls could be considerable.
Slumping back, he grimaced. “It doesn’t look as if we’re going to have much luck in getting the Black Cobra to come to us.”
Upstairs in the duchess’s sitting room, Deliah had just finished telling the other ladies everything she knew of Del’s mission.
Relating the details of the incident that afternoon had left her more shaken than she’d been at the time.
Honoria calmly handed her another cup of tea. “It’s often worse reliving it-that’s when you realize all the things that might have gone wrong, how much worse it all might have been.”
Deliah sipped, met Honoria’s eyes, glanced at the others, all nodding sagely. Amazing. Not one of them had paled, let alone looked likely to faint when she’d described shooting a man, then running one through-although technically he’d run himself through. She’d just held the sword.
The tea slid down, warming, comforting-just like the company.
“I believe I speak for all of us”-Catriona glanced around the circle before focusing on Deliah-“in extending my heartfelt thanks to you for reducing the threat. For engineering a situation that successfully reduced this fiend’s troops, especially those in this area.”
“Indeed.” Alathea exchanged a long-suffering look with the others. “We know what our husbands are like.”
Felicity set down her empty cup. “We’ll have to keep an eye on them.” She glanced at Honoria. “A closer eye than usual.”
Honoria nodded. “Luckily, it appears the weather has come to our aid.” She smiled. “It’s snowing.”
“Really?”
“At last!”
