The emphasis he placed on that single word shook Honoria to her toes. Barely able to breathe, she walked quickly back to the drawing room, head high, skirts shushing furiously.
Chapter 10
Three days later, Devil stood at the library windows, his gaze, abstracted, fixed on the summerhouse. Behind him, open ledgers littered his desk; a pile of letters begged for attention. He had a l
ot of unfinished business on his plate.
No trace had been found of Tolly's killer, and the simple task of securing his bride was proving remarkably complicated. The latter was more bothersome than the former-he was sure they'd eventually track Tolly's murderer down. He was also unshakably convinced Honoria would be his bride-he was simply no longer so sanguine about what state he'd be in by the wedding.
She was driving him demented. What power had goaded him into declaring his hand so forcefully, there, on the terrace in the moonlight? It had been sheer madness to act the tyrant as he had-yet he could feel the same emotion, the urge to conquer, to seize, to hold, flaring even now, simply at the thought of her.
Luckily, her stubbornness, her defiance, her unquenchable pride had forbidden her to flee before his heavy-handed declaration. She'd let Michael depart alone. Now, with her nose in the air, wrapped in a cloak of chill civility, she held him at a distance.
After learning of her past, common sense suggested he at least reconsider. Common sense stood not a chance against the deep-seated conviction that she was his. Where she was concerned he felt like one of his conquering ancestors preparing to lay siege to a much-desired prize. Given what he now suspected, her surrender, when it came, would need to be proclaimed from the battlements.
He'd wondered how she'd reached a succulently ripe twenty-four still unwed. Even hidden away as a governess, not all men were blind. Some must have seen her and appreciated her worth. A determination on her part to remain a spinster, childless, could, in this case, explain the inexplicable. Her stubbornness was a tangible thing.
In this case, her stubbornness would need to surrender.
He wasn't going to let her go. Ever.
At least she couldn't later say that he hadn't warned her.
His gaze, still on the summerhouse, sharpened; Devil straightened and reached for the handle of the French doors.
Honoria saw him coming; her hand froze in midair, then she looked down and resumed her stitching. Devil climbed the steps two at a time; she looked up and met his gaze squarely. Slowly, she raised her brows.
He held her gaze, then glanced at the seat beside her.
She hesitated, then carefully gathered up her strewn silks. "Did your man learn anything in Chatteris?"
Devil stared at her.
Honoria laid the silks in her basket. "I saw him ride in."
Swallowing his irritation, Devil sat beside her, angling his shoulders so he faced her. "Nothing-no horseman came by way of Chatteris." Perhaps he should grow screening hedges about the summerhouse? She'd adopted it as her lair; he could see a number of pertinent advantages.
Honoria frowned. "So that's all the towns 'round about-and no gentleman hired a horse anywhere."
"Except for Charles, who came by way of Cambridge."
"Is there any other place-a tavern, or some such-where horses might be hired?"
"My people checked all the hedge-taverns within reach. Short of borrowing a horse, something we can't rule out, it seems likely the murderer rode away on his own horse."
"I thought you said that was unlikely?"
"Unlikely but not impossible."
"The storm came up shortly after. Wouldn't he have had to take shelter?"
"The others checked all the inns and taverns on their way back to London. No likely gentleman took refuge anywhere. Whoever shot Tolly was either exceedingly lucky or he covered his tracks exceptionally well."
"Riding his own horse, he could have come from anywhere, not just London. He might have been a hired assassin."
Devil looked at her, silently, for a full minute. "Don't complicate things."
"Well, it's true. But I had meant to ask you…" She paused to snip a thread; in the silence that followed, Devil got her message. She'd meant to ask him before he'd acted the despot. Setting aside her shears, she continued: "Was it common knowledge that Tolly habitually took the lane through the wood?"