Devils Bride (Cynster 1)

He grasped her elbow; Honoria fought the impulse to twist free. Then she felt the strength in his grip and was not sure she could. Half-lifting her, Charles propelled her into the stables. "We have to hurry. Which horse is yours?" Honoria shook her head. "I can't ride."

Charles glanced at her sharply. "What do you mean?" Pregnant women did not ride. Honoria blinked blankly. "I'm nervous of horses." As far as she could recall, Charles had never seen her ride. "And Devil's horses are impossible." She managed to wriggle her elbow free. "We'll have to take the gig."

"Gig!" Charles's scowl was quite real. "There's no time for that!"

"But-but-then I won't be able to go!" Honoria stood in middle of the stable and stared at him helplessly. Pathetically. Charles glared at her; she wrung her hands.

He ground his teeth. "Oh-very well!" He flung out of the stable and headed for the barn.

Honoria stopped in the yard. As soon as Charles disappeared into the barn, she searched, scanning the connecting yards, peering into the dimness of the opposite stable block. Where was Melton? Then she heard the rumble of wheels. "Damn!"

She scurried back across the yard. Her role was clear-she should go along with Charles's plan and let him incriminate himself. Panic feathered her nerves and tickled her spine; mentally, she stiffened it. They had to catch Charles-he was like a sword hangin

g over their heads, Devil's, hers, and the child she carried. But how would Devil rescue her if he didn't know where she was? Weakly, she slumped against the stable wall.

And saw Melton in the shadows of the stable directly opposite.

Honoria swallowed a whoop of joy; she hurriedly blanked her features as Charles maneuvered a light gig from the barn.

He threw her a black scowl. "Come hold the shafts while I fetch a horse."

Softening her chin, hiding any hint of resolution, Honoria limply complied. Charles entered the stable; Honoria glanced at the one opposite. Melton's cap was just visible through the open stable door; he was hugging the shadows to one side of the entrance.

Then Charles was back, leading a strong grey. "Hold the shafts steady."

Honoria dropped them once, then surreptitiously jostled the horse so he shouldered them loose again. Face set grimly, Charles worked frantically, buckling the harness, clearly conscious of time passing. Honoria fervently hoped she'd judged that commodity correctly, and that Devil would not decide to go for a longer ride.

Charles tugged on the final buckle, then stood back, scanning the rig. For one instant, his expression was unguarded-the smile that twisted his lips, oozing anticipation, Honoria could have done without. In that instant, she saw the killer behind the mask.

Melton might be old but his hearing was acute, which was how he so successfully avoided Devil. Honoria fixed Charles with her most helpless look. "Is Keenan with Devil?" She kept her expression vague, distracted. "You did say he's at Keenan's cottage, didn't you?"

"Yes, but Keenan's not there." Charles sorted the reins. "You mean he's alone?" Honoria let her eyes grow round. "Dying in Keenan's cottage all alone?"

"Yes!" Charles grabbed her arm and all but forced her into the gig. "He's dying there while you're having hysterics here." He shoved the reins into her hands. "We have to hurry."

Honoria waited until he was mounted on his chestnut, turning toward the stable entrance before asking: "Are you going to ride back direct?" Charles frowned back at her. "Direct?"

"Well…" She gestured weakly at the gig. "This can't go through the arch in the wall-I'll have to leave by the main gate and then find the bridle path back to the cottage." Charles audibly ground his teeth. "I had better," he said, enunciating slowly, "stay with you. Or else you might get lost."

Dumbly, Honoria nodded. Meekly, she clicked the reins and set the gig rolling. She'd done all she could-delayed by all means she dared. The rest was up to Devil.

Chapter 25

Devil knew something was desperately wrong the instant he spied Melton, standing beneath the stable yard arch, wildly waving his cap. Cursing, he set his heels to Sulieman's sides; Vane's exclamation died behind him, then hooves thundered as Vane followed in his wake.

"What?" he asked, hauling Sulieman to a sliding halt.

"Master Charles." Melton clutched his cap to his chest. "Your lady went with him-he told her you were shot and a-dying in Keenan's cottage."

Devil swore. "How long since they left?"

"Five minutes, no more. But your lady's a bright one-she insisted on taking the gig."

"The gig?" Devil sat back. "Charles went with her?"

"Aye-he wanted to make sure she didn't lose her way."

Slamming a mental door on the chill fear that howled inside him, Devil flicked a glance at Vane. "Coming?"