Honoria's jaw nearly dropped; rescuing it in time, she swallowed a gurgle of laughter. "You signed it… pretending to be my husband?" She had to struggle to keep a straight face.

The aggravation in Devil's eyes helped. "Practicing to be your husband."

Abruptly, Honoria sobered. "You needn't practice that particular activity on my account. I'll pay my bills, whether I marry you or not."

Her crisp "or not" hung between them; Devil straightened and inclined his head. "As you wish." His gaze wandered to the landscape above the fireplace.

Honoria narrowed her eyes at his profile. "We have yet to come to terms over this bill you inadvertently paid, Your Grace."

Both description and honorific pricked Devil on the raw. Bracing one arm along the mantelpiece, he trapped Honoria's gaze. "You can't seriously imagine I'll accept recompense-monetary recompense-from you. That, as you well know, is asking too much."

Honoria raised her brows. "I can't see why. If you'd paid a trifling sum for one of your friends, you'd allow them to repay you without fuss."

"The sum is not trifling, you are not 'one of my friends,' and in case it's escaped your notice, I'm not the sort of man to whom a woman can confess to being conscious of owing every stitch she has on, to him, and then expect to be allowed to pay him back."

Honoria's silk chemise suddenly grew hot; tightening her arms over her breasts, she tilted her chin. His conqueror's mask, all hard planes and ironclad determination, warned her she would win no concessions on that front. Searching his eyes, she felt her skin prickle. She scowled. "You… devil!"

His lips twitched.

Honoria took two paces into the room, then whirled and paced back. "The situation is beyond improper-it's outrageous!"

Pushing away from the mantelpiece, Devil raised an arrogant brow. "Ladies who dice with me do find situations tend to end that way."

"I," Honoria declared, swinging to face him and meeting his eyes, "am far too wise to play games with you. We need some agreement over this bill."

Devil eyed her set face, and inwardly cursed. Every time he glimpsed a quick escape from the dilemma his uncharacteristically fanciful self-indulgence had landed him in, she blocked it. And demanded he negotiate. Didn't she realize she was the besieged and he the besieger? Evidently not.

From the moment he'd declared his intention to wed her, she'd flung unexpected hurdles in his path. He'd overcome each one and chased her into her castle, to which he'd immediately laid siege. He'd succeeded in harrying her to the point where she was weakening, considering opening her gates and welcoming him in-when she'd stumbled on his moment of weakness and turned it into a blunt weapon. Which she was presently wielding with Anstruther-Wetherby stubbornness. His lips thinned. "Can't you overlook it? No one knows about it other than you and me."

"And Celestine."

"She's not going to alienate a valuable customer."

"Be that as it may-"

"Might I suggest," Devil tersely interpolated, "that, considering the situation between us, you could justifiably set the matter of this bill aside, to be decided after your three months have elapsed? Once you're my duchess, you can justifiably forget it."

"I haven't yet agreed to marry you."

"You will."

Honoria heard the absolute decree in his words. She eyed his stony face, then raised one brow. "I can hardly accept a proposal I haven't heard."

Conquerors didn't make polite requests; his instinct was to seize what he wanted-the more he wanted, the more forceful the seizure. Devil looked into her eyes, calmly watching, calmly waiting; he read the subtle challenge in her face, the underlying stubbornness in the tilt of her chin. How much did he want this prize?

He drew a deep breath, then stepped closer and reached for her hand; his eyes on hers, he brushed his lips across her fingertips. "My dear Honoria Prudence, will you do me the honor of being my wife, my duchess-" He paused, then deliberately added: "The mother of my children?"

Her gaze flickered; she looked away. Placing one fingertip under her chin, Devil turned her face back.

After a fractional hesitation, Honoria lifted her lids and met his eyes. "I haven't yet made up my mind." He might not be able to lie-she could. But he was too potent a force to surrender to without being absolutely certain. A few more days would give her time to check her decision.

He held her gaze; between them, passion lingered, shivering in the air.

"Don't take too long."

The words, uttered softly, could have been a warning or a plea. Retrieving her fingers from his clasp, Honoria lifted her chin free of his touch. "If I married you, I would want to be assured no incident similar to the present contretemps would occur again."

"I've told you I'm not daft." Devil's eyes glinted. "And I'm certainly no advocate of self-torture."

Ruthlessly, Honoria suppressed her smile.

The planes of Devil's face shifted; he caught her hand. "Come for a drive."

"One more point…" Honoria held firm. She met the aggravation in his eyes, and tried not to feel the warmth, the seductive strength in the fingers and palm clasping hers. "Tolly's murder."

Devil's jaw firmed. "I will not let you involve yourself in the search for his killer."

Honoria met his gaze directly; again, she sensed their wills locking, this time without heat. "I wouldn't need to actively search for clues if you told me what you and your cousins discover as soon as you discover it." She'd exhausted all avenues open to her; she needed his cooperation to go on.

He frowned, then looked away; she'd started to wonder what he was thinking before he looked back. "I'll agree on one condition."

Honoria raised her brows.

"That you promise that under no circumstances whatever will you personally go searching for Tolly's killer."

Honoria promptly nodded. Her ability to come up with any male felon was severely limited by the social code; her contribution to the investigation would have to be primarily deductive. "So what did Lucifer learn?"

Devil's lips thinned. "I can't tell you."

Honoria stiffened.

"No!" He squeezed her hand. "Don't rip up at me-I said 'can't,' not 'won't.'"

Honoria narrowed her eyes. "Why 'can't'?"

Devil searched her face, then looked down at their linked hands. "Because what Lucifer learned casts a far from flattering light on one of the family, probably Tolly. Unfortunately, Lucifer's information was rumor-we've yet to establish the facts." He studied her slim digits entwined with his, then tightened his grip and looked up. "However, if Tolly was involved, then it suggests a possible scenario whereby someone-someone capable of the act or of procuring the same-might have wanted him dead."

Honoria noted the fastidiousness that had crept into his expression. "It's something disreputable, isn't it?" She thought of Louise Cynster.

Slowly, Devil nodded. "Exceedingly disreputable."

Honoria drew in a long breath-then gasped as a tug set her on course for the door.

"You need some air," Devil decreed. He shot her a glance, then admitted through clenched teeth: "So do I."

Towed in his wake, Honoria grinned. Her gown was too thin, but she could don her pelisse at the front door. She had won a host of concessions; she could afford to be magnanimous. The day was fine; her heart was light. And her wolf had reached the end of his tether.

Chapter 13

"I make it 334." Honoria restacked the lists in her lap and started counting again.

His gaze on her profile, Devil raised his brows. They were in the morning room, Honoria at one end of the chaise while he sprawled elegantly at the other; she was adding up the acceptances for the grand ball his aunt Horatia was to host in Berkeley Square the next night, to declare the family out of mourning. Smiling, Devil retrieved a list from the floor. "That's a goodly number for this time of year. The weather's put back the shooting, so many have stayed in town. Like Chillingworth-it appears my aunt has seen fit to invite him."

"He is an earl." Honoria glanced up, frowned, then reached over and tugged at the list. "But I gather you've known him forever."

"It certainly seems like forever. We were at Eton together."

"Rivals from your earliest years?"

"I wouldn't class Chillingworth as a rival-more like a nuisance."

Honoria looked down, hiding her grin. Devil had taken to joining her in the morning room in the post-luncheon hour during which the Dowager habitually rested. He would stay for half an hour, long limbs disposed in the opposite corner of the chaise, his presence filling the room, dominating her senses. They would chat; if he had information from his cousins, he would tell her, simply and straightforwardly, without evasion.

From her own efforts, she'd learned nothing more. The Dowager had fulfilled her stated intention of introducing her to the ton; through a mind-numbing round of morning calls, "at-homes," and afternoon teas, she had met all the major hostesses and been accepted as one of their circle. But in all the gossip and scandalmongering abounding amongst the female half of the ton, not a single scrap had she heard regarding Tolly.

She looked up. "Have you heard anything?"

"As it happens, I have." Honoria opened her eyes wide; Devil's lips quirked wryly. "Don't get your hopes up, but Demon's back."