Without looking up, she closed the door and turned, taking two steps before letting her gaze reach the desk. "Oh!" Lips parting, eyes widening, she halted. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…" She let her words trail away.
Her devilish host sat behind the large desk, his correspondence spread before him. By the windows, Sligo was sorting ledgers. Both men had looked up; while Sligo's expression was arrested, Devil's was unreadable.
With a longing glance at the bookshelves, Honoria conjured an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to intrude. Pray excuse me."
Gathering her skirts, she half turned-a languid gesture halted her. "If it's distraction you seek, then by all means, seek it here."
Devil's eyes met hers; while his accompanying wave indicated the volumes and tomes, Honoria was not at all certain they were the distraction to which he referred. Lifting her chin, she inclined her head graciously. "I won't disturb you."
She already had. Devil shifted in his chair, then rearranged his letters. From the corner of his eye, he watched Honoria scan the shelves, pausing artistically here and there to raise a hand to this book or that. He wondered who she thought she was fooling.
The past two days had been difficult. Resisting the invitation in her eyes had required considerable resolution, but he'd won too many campaigns not to know the value of having her approach him. At last she'd weakened-impatience mounting, he waited for her to get to the point.
Picking up his pen, he signed a letter, blotted it, and laid it aside. Glancing up, he surprised her watching him-she quickly looked away. A sunbeam lancing through the windows burnished the gleaming chestnut knot atop her head; wispy tendrils wreathed her nape and forehead. In her cream-colored morning gown, she looked good enough to eat; for a ravenous wolf, the temptation was great. Devil watched as she put a hand to a heavy tome, one on agricultural practices; she hesitated, then pulled it out and opened it. She was vacillating.
Realizing what she was reading, she abruptly shut the book and replaced it, then drifted back to the shelves nearer the door, selecting another book at random. With an inward sigh, Devil put down his pen and stood. He didn't have all day-his cousins were due later that afternoon. Rounding the desk, he crossed the carpet; sensing his approach, Honoria looked up.
Devil lifted the book from her hands, shut it, and returned it to the shelf-then met her startled gaze. "What's it to be-a drive in the park or a stroll in the square?"
Honoria blinked. She searched his eyes, then stiffened and raised her chin. "A drive." The park might be crowded but on the box seat of his curricle she could interrogate him without restriction.
Devil's eyes didn't leave hers. "Sligo-get the bays put to."
"Aye, Capt'n Y'r Grace." Sligo darted for the door.
Intending to follow, Honoria found herself trapped, held, by Devil's green gaze. Forsaking her eyes, it slid down, lingering briefly but with a weight that sent heat rising to her cheeks.
He looked up. "Perhaps, my dear, you had better change-we wouldn't want you to catch cold."
Like she'd caught cold trying to fool him? Haughtily, Honoria raised her chin another inch. "Indeed, Your Grace. I shouldn't keep you above half an hour."
With a swish of her skirts, she escaped. Even forcibly dragging her heels, she was back in the hall in under ten minutes; to her relief, the devil forebore to comment, merely meeting her eye with a glance too arrogantly assured for her liking. His gaze swept her, neat and trim in green jaconet, then he gave her his arm; nose still high, she consented to be led down the steps.
Devil lifted her to the seat. They were bowling through the park gates, the carriages of the ton lining the curved avenue ahead, before she registered that a groom had swung up behind. Glancing back, she beheld Sligo.
Devil saw her surprise. "You'll no doubt be relieved that I've decided to observe the strictures wherever possible."
Honoria gestured behind. "Isn't that rather excessive?"
"I wouldn't let it dampen your enthusiasms, Honoria Prudence." He slanted her a glance. "Sligo's half-deaf."
A quick glance confirmed it; despite the fact Devil had not lowered his voice, Sligo's expression remained blank. Satisfied, Honoria drew a deep breath. "In that case-"
"That's the countess of Tonbridge to your right. She's a bosom-bow of Maman's."
Honoria smiled at the grande dame lounging in a brougham drawn up by the verge; a quizzing glass magnifying one protuberant eye, the countess inclined her head graciously. Honoria nodded back. "What-"
"Lady Havelock ahead. Is that a turban she's wearing?"
"A toque," Honoria replied through her smile. "But-"
"Mrs. Bingham and Lady Carstairs in the landau."
It was difficult, Honoria discovered, to smile with clenched teeth. Her breeding, however, dictated her behavior, even in such trying circumstances; calmly serene, she smiled and nodded with gracious impartiality-the truth was, she barely focused on those claiming her attention. Not even the sight of Skiffy Skeffington in his customary bilious green had the power to divert her-her attention was firmly fixed on the reprobate beside her.
She should have chosen the square. After the first three encounters, the interest directed their way registered; the glances of the ladies whose nods she returned were not idle. They were sharp, speculative-keenly acute. Her position beside Devil was clearly making some statement; Honoria had a strong suspicion it was not a statement she'd intended to make. Nodding to a beaming Lady Sefton, she asked: "How long is it since you last drove a lady in the park?"
"I don't."
"Don't?" Honoria turned and stared. "Why not? You can hardly claim you're misogynous."
Devil's lips twitched; briefly he met her eye. "If you think about it, Honoria Prudence, you'll see that appearing beside me in the park is tantamount to a declaration-a declaration no unmarried lady has previously been invited to make and one which no married lady would care to flaunt."
Lady Chetwynd was waiting to be noticed; by the time she was free again, Honoria was simmering. "And what about me?"
Devil glanced her way; this time, his expression was harder. "You are different. You're going to marry me."
An altercation in the park was unthinkable; Honoria seethed, but couldn't let it show, other than in her eyes. Those, only he could see, much good did her fury do her; with an infuriatingly arrogant lift to his brows, he turned back to his horses.
Denied the interrogation she'd planned and the tirade he deserved, Honoria struggled, not simply to contain her wrath but to redirect it. Losing her temper was unlikely to advance her cause.
She slanted a glance at Devil; his attention was on his horses, his profile clear-cut, hard-edged. Eyes narrowing, she looked ahead, to where a line of carriages had formed, waiting to turn. Devil drew in at the end; Honoria saw her chance and took it. "Have you and your cousins learned anything of the reason behind Tolly's murder?"
One black brow quirked upward. "I had heard…"
Breath bated, Honoria waited.
"That Aunt Horatia intends giving a ball in a week or so." Blank green eyes turned her way. "To declare the family once more on the town, so to speak. Until then, I suspect we should curb our excursions-the park and such mild entertainments are, I believe, permissible. Later…"
In utter disbelief, Honoria listened to a catalogue of projected diversions-the usual divertissements favored by the ton. She didn't bother trying to interrupt. He'd accepted her help in the lane; he'd told her that his people had turned up no clues in the towns about Somersham. She'd thought he'd capitulated-understood and accepted her right to involve herself in the solving of the crime, or, at the very least, accepted her right to know what had been discovered. As the litany of pleasures in store for her continued, Honoria readjusted her thinking.