That was unique, at least in his experience. He couldn't define it, could not even describe it-he only knew it was precious, too valuable to risk.

Honoria was also too valuable to risk, at any level, in any way.

He frowned at the newssheet-and wondered what she was doing.

Later that afternoon, having parted from Vane, Devil strolled home through the gathering dusk. He crossed Piccadilly and turned into Berkeley Street.

"Ho! Sylvester!"

Devil halted and turned, then waited until Charles joined him before strolling on. Charles fell into step; he had lodgings in Duke Street, just beyond Grosvenor Square.

"Back to your old haunts, I take it?"

Devil smiled. "As you say."

"I'm surprised-I thought Leicestershire would hold you rather longer. They've had excellent sport, so I've heard."

"I didn't go to the Lodge this season." Manor Lodge was the ducal hunting box. "I went out with the Somersham pack but the runs were hardly worth it."

Charles looked puzzled. "Is Aunt Helena well?"

"Perfectly." Devil shot him a sidelong glance; his lips twitched. "I've had other distractions to hand."

"Oh?"

"I married recently, remember?"

Charles's brows rose briefly. "I hadn't imagined marriage would cause any change in your habits."

Devil merely shrugged. They circumnavigated Berkeley Square, then turned down a alleyway that ran between two houses, connecting the square with Hays Mews.

"I take it Honoria remained at Somersham?"

Devil frowned. "No. She's here-with me."

"She is?" Charles blinked. After a moment, he murmured: "I must remember to pay my respects."

Devil inclined his head, unwilling to commit Honoria to any transports of delight. He knew perfectly well how his other cousins viewed Charles; for his part, he'd always tried for tolerance. They strode on, eventually halting at the corner of Grosvenor Square. Duke Street lay ahead; Devil was but yards from his door.

Abruptly, Charles swung to face him. "I hesitate to allude to such a delicate matter, but I feel I must speak."

Coolly, Devil raised his brows-and took a firm grip on his tolerance.

"Bringing Honoria to London, so early in her tenure, to require her to countenance your wider liaisons within months of your marriage, is unnecessarily cruel. She may not be experienced in tonnish behavior but her understanding is, I believe, superior. She will doubtless realize you're bestowing your interest elsewhere. Women are sensitive to such matters-if you had left her at Somersham, she would not be exposed to such hurt."

His expression blank, Devil looked down at Charles; he'd lost all touch with tolerance-instead, he was battling to keep the lid on his formidable temper. If Charles had not been family, he'd be choking on his teeth. It took concerted effort to keep a snarl from his face. "You mistake the matter, Charles. It was Honoria's wish that she accompany me, a wish I saw no reason to deny." His rigidly even tone had Charles stiffening; his gaze would have frozen hell. "Furthermore, you appear to be laboring under a misapprehension-at present, I have no intention of seeking any 'wider liaison'-my wife holds my interest to the exclusion of all others."

It was the truth, the literal truth, stated more clearly than he'd allowed his own mind to know it.

Charles blinked-he looked stunned.

Devil's lips twisted in chilly self-deprecation. "Indeed-there's more to marriage than even I foresaw. You should try it-I can recommend it as a challenging experience."

With a curt nod, he strode for his door, leaving Charles, blank-faced, staring after him.

Chapter 20

The next morning, as soon as he was free of his most urgent business, Devil climbed the stairs to the morning room.

Honoria looked up as he entered; she smiled warmly. "I thought you'd be busy for hours."

"Hobden's on his way back to the Place." Devil strolled to the chaise and sat on the arm beside her. Resting one arm along the chaise's back, he picked up one of the lists from Honoria's lap. "Our guests?"

She peeked. "That's the connections. These are the friends."

Devil took the lists and scanned them. They'd discussed her notion of an impromptu ball the evening before. Reasoning that the exercise would keep her occupied-distracted from Bromley and his doings-he'd readily concurred. "There are a few names you might add."

Honoria picked up a pencil and dutifully scribbled as he reeled off a short list of his own. When he said "Chillingworth" she looked up in surprise. "I thought the earl was no favorite of yours?"

"On the contrary-he's a prime favorite." Devil smiled, one of his Prince of Darkness smiles. "Who would I taunt if I didn't have Chillingworth by?"

Honoria looked her reply but left the earl on the list. Chillingworth could look after himself.

"I had wondered," Devil said, studying her profile, "if you were free to come for a drive?"

Honoria looked up, her arm brushing his thigh. Her eyes touched his, then she grimaced. "I can't." She gestured to the writing materials on the table. "If the ball's to be next Friday, I need to send the invitations out today."

Devil had never written a ball invitation in his life. He was about to suggest he might learn, when Honoria continued: "Louise is bringing the twins by to help."

With a swift smile, Devil uncoiled his long legs. "In that case, I'll leave you to your endeavors."

His fingers trailed against her cheek as he stood, then he grinned and strolled to the door; Honoria watched it close behind him. She stared at the panels, her expression wistful, then she grimaced and went back to her lists.

The next morning, when the morning room door opened, Honoria looked up with an eager smile. Only to discover it was Vane who sought an audience.

"Devil said I'd find you here." Smiling charmingly, he strolled forward. "I've a request to make."

The gleam in his eye suggested just what that request might be; Honoria eyed it with matriarchal disapproval. "Who?" she asked.

"Lady Canterton. And Harry suggested Lady Pinney."

Honoria held his gaze for a pregnant moment, then reached for her pencil. "I'll send the invitations today."

"Thank you."

"With one proviso." She looked up in time to see wariness creep into his eyes.

"What proviso?"

There was a hint of steel in the question; Honoria ignored it. "You will each dance one dance with each of the twins."

"The twins?" Vane stared at her. "How old are they?"

"Seventeen. They'll be presented this year-Friday will be their first ball."

Vane shuddered.

Honoria raised a brow. "Well?"

He looked at her, grim resignation in his eyes. "Very well-one dance each. I'll tell Harry."

Honoria nodded. "Do."

Her next visitors followed in quick succession, all on the same errand. Gabriel succeded Vane; Lucifer followed. The last through the morning-room door was Richard. "I know," Honoria said, reaching for her much-amended list. "Lady Grey."

"Lady Grey?" Richard blinked. "Why Lady Grey?"

Honoria blinked back. She'd seen him slip away from Horatia's ball with the dark-haired, alabaster-skinned beauty. "Isn't she…?" She gestured with her pencil.

"Ah, no." Richard's grin was reminiscent of Devil at his worst. "That was last year. I was going to ask for Lady Walton."

Ask for-like a treat. And, like a treat, Lady Walton would doubtless fall, a ripe plum into his lap. Honoria decided it was useless disapproving; she added Lady Walton to her list.

"And I dutifully promise to stand up with both Amanda and Amelia."

"Good." Honoria looked up in time to witness Richard's insouciant bow.

"A very good idea, this ball of yours." He paused at the door, a Cynster smile on his lips. "We were all looking for a way to get the Season rolling. Nothing could be better than an impromptu ball."

Honoria shot him a warning look; chuckling, he left.

She went on with her planning, trying not to listen for footsteps beyond the door, trying not to wonder whether Devil would drop by to hear of his cousins' selections, to ask her what she was doing, to offer his views.

He didn't.

When she entered the breakfast parlor the next morning, she was pleased to find Devil still present, sipping coffee and scanning The Gazette. Her place was now at the table's other end, an expanse of polished mahogany between them. Taking her seat, she beamed a warm smile across the silver service.

Devil returned the gesture, the expression more evident in his eyes than on his lips. Folding The Gazette, he laid it aside. "How are your plans progressing?"

Although he'd dined at home the previous night, he'd been preoccupied with business; he had come to bed late, conversation very far from his mind. Between sipping tea and nibbling toast, Honoria filled him in.

He listened attentively, interpolating comments, ending with: "You're setting a new fashion, you know. I've already heard of two other hostesses who are planning early, impromptu entertainments."

Smiling radiantly, Honoria shrugged. "Where St. Ives leads, the others will follow."

He grinned appreciatively, then his eyes locked on hers. "I've had the horses brought up from the Place. It's fine outside-I wondered if you'd care to ride?"

Honoria's heart leapt-she sorely missed their private hours. "I-"