Honoria shot Devil a mischievous look. "Actually, I think he was even more surprised than I was. He was almost disapproving."

Devil raised his brows skeptically. "And?"

"What followed was actually my fault-he told me I couldn't possibly be in earnest. Naturally, I assured him I was."

"And?"

Honoria held Devil's gaze. "He tried to kiss me-and I hit him."

Devil blinked-then blinked again. "You hit him?"

Honoria nodded. "Michael taught me how before he allowed me to go governessing." She frowned. "I suppose I should have used my knee, but I didn't think of it at the time."

Devil only just managed not to choke. "I think," he said, his voice not entirely steady, "that Chillingworth is probably quite grateful you hit him." Honoria was uncommonly tall, and Chillingworth was shorter than he was. Devil's lips twitched. "I must remember to inform him of his close escape."

Honoria frowned. "Yes, well-unfortunately that's not all. When I hit him, his nose started to bleed."

It was too much; Devil succumbed to gales of laughter. "Oh, God," he said, when he could speak again. "Poor Chillingworth."

"He seemed to think so, too. His waistcoat was ruined."

One hand pressed to his aching ribs, Devil fisted Honoria's left hand. "You must have used your left."

Honoria nodded. "How did you know?"

Devil's grin was pure devilish delight. "I caught him with a left at Eton-the same thing happened. He bled like a stuck pig."

"Precisely." Honoria sighed. "I'm afraid he's feeling rather put-upon."

"I can imagine."

Devil's tone had hardened; Honoria looked up inquiringly. He met her eyes. "He and I will have to sort this out." Honoria straightened. "What do you mean?" Devil's lips softened as he drew her back into his arms.

"Just that we'll need to make sure we've got our stories straight in case someone noticed or starts a rumor." He hugged Honoria close. "Don't worry-I'm hardly likely to call a man out because my wife bloodied his nose."

Honoria frowned. "Yes-but is he likely to call you out because I bloodied his nose?"

Devil's chest quaked. "I really don't think that's likely." Grinning, he tilted Honoria's face up. "You're a remarkably resourceful woman, you know."

She blinked her eyes wide. "Naturally-I was raised an Anstruther-Wetherby."

Smiling, Devil lowered his head. "You were raised to be a Cynster."

He kissed her-and kept kissing her. The carriage rolled slowly through the gathering gloom, through the quiet shadows beneath the trees.

Breathless moments later, Honoria discovered that he could be remarkably resourceful, too. "Great heavens!" She had barely enough breath to whisper the words. "We can't-" Her hands closed tightly about Devil's wrists; her head fell back as she struggled for breath. "Where are we?"

"In the park." Intent on what he was doing, Devil didn't raise his head. "If you look outside, you'll see a number of carriages slowly rolling around the circuit."

"I can't believe-" A burst of pleasure stripped the thought from Honoria's mind; she struggled to hold back a moan. The thought that replaced the first had her blinking her eyes wide. "What about John and Sligo?" On a gasp, she met Devil's eyes. "Won't they realize?"

The grin on her husband's lips could only be described as devilish. "The trick's in the timing-trust me, they won't feel a thing."

They didn't-but she, and he, certainly did.

It seemed like hours-an infinite number of panting, gasping, desperately silent minutes later-when, slumped against Devil's chest, Honoria wriggled, then wriggled again. Frowning, she sat up and examined the buttons on his coat.

"Horrible things-they're sticking into me." She turned the mother-of-pearl buttons about. "They're not as big as the ones Tolly had, but they're quite bad enough."

Devil's eyes, closed in blissful peace, snapped open. "What?"

"These buttons-they're too large."

"No-what else did you say?"

Honoria frowned even more. "That they're like the ones on Tolly's coat?"

Devil stared into the distance, then he closed his eyes-and closed his arms about Honoria, drawing her close. "That's it." He spoke the words into her hair. "That's what I've been trying to remember about Tolly's death."

Honoria held him. "The button deflecting the ball? Does it help?"

His chin resting in her hair, Devil nodded. "It helps. It's the final nail in our would-be-murderer's coffin."

Honoria tried to look at Devil's face, but he held her too tightly. "You're sure who it is?"

Devil sighed. "Beyond doubt."

Three minutes later, their clothes precisely correct once more, the duke and duchess of St. Ives headed back to Grosvenor Square.

Chapter 24

Vane was waiting in the library when Honoria and Devil entered. He searched their faces, then relaxed.

"The end is nigh." Devil handed Honoria to the chaise, then sat beside her.

Vane sat in an armchair. "What happened?"

Devil gave him a severely edited account, proffering only the note Honoria had received. "The one I got was in the same hand." Vane studied the note, then frowned. Devil suggested: "Look at the writing itself, not the style."

Vane's face cleared. "The nib! He always uses those wide nibs so his writing looks heavier. We've got him!"

"Yes, and no. Everything we've discovered is circumstantial. Given what I've remembered today-"

"And my news, which I've yet to tell you," Vane cut in.

"Put it together," Devil continued, "and the murderer's identity's obvious. Obvious, however, isn't proof."

Vane grimaced; Devil's expression was bleak. Honoria glanced from one to the other. "But who is it?" When they looked at her blankly, she nearly ground her teeth. "You haven't told me yet."

Devil blinked. "But it was you who told me. You were the first to put it into words."

"I thought it was Richard, remember? You both told me I was wrong."

"Well, you were," Vane said. "It isn't Richard."

"You suggested the murderer was my heir." Devil waited until Honoria looked his way. "Effectively, he is."

Honoria's eyes flew wide. She glanced at Vane, then looked back at Devil. "But… You mean George…?"

"George?"

"Father?"

Devil and Vane stared at her. "Why George?" Devil asked. "He's not my heir."

"He's not?" It was Honoria's rum to stare. "But Horatia told me he's a bare year younger than your father was."

"He is," Vane corroborated.

"Great heavens!" Honoria's eyes couldn't get any wider. "How many Cynster skeletons are there? Is George another Cynster like Richard?"

"You've missed a vital point-George and Arthur are twins." Devil caught Honoria's gaze. "Arthur's the elder twin-and no, it's not him either."

"Charles?" Honoria's expression blanked, then hardened. "How…" For a full minute, words failed her, then her eyes flashed. "How cowardly." She met Devil's eyes. "He killed his younger brother."

"Half brother," Devil corrected. "As he used to be very quick to point out. He's also now tried to kill me."

"Several times," Vane put in.

"He's also tried to kill you." Devil reached for Honoria's hand.

"And it now looks like he's killed his previous man, Holthorpe."

Devil and Honoria looked at Vane. "What did you discover?" Devil asked.

"Circumstantial evidence still, but I've had all the shipping lists checked-no Holthorpe embarked for America, or anywhere else. Holthorpe never left England."

Devil frowned. "Let's start at the beginning. Tolly left Mount Street the evening before he died. As far as we can tell, he headed home on foot. His lodgings were in Wigmore Street, so he'd walk past here. According to Sligo, he called in and learned I'd gone up to the Place. He continued on in good spirits-"

"And stopped in to see Charles," Vane said. "Around the corner in Duke Street."

"Given Holthorpe's disappearance, that seems a reasonable assumption." Devil's frown grew. "Presumably Tolly learned something, possibly overheard something-something that told him Charles was planning to kill me. Let's take that as read-what would Tolly do?"

"Tax Charles with it," Vane replied. "Tolly wouldn't have paused to think of any danger-he was too open and honest and naive to imagine others might be less so."

"We'll presume Charles didn't recant, so Tolly left."

"Probably saying enough on his way out to seal Holthorpe's fate." Vane looked grim. "The next morning, as soon as he could, Tolly left for the Place."

"But Charles took the faster route-we know he did. We didn't find anyone who could place Charles near the lane when Tolly was shot, but we did exhaustively prove no one else was in the area. No other gentleman arrived from London that day." Devil glanced at Vane.

"Right. So Charles shot Tolly-"

"That's what I'd forgotten. The button on Tolly's coat."

Vane looked puzzled. "What about it?"

Devil sighed. "The shot that killed Tolly was nothing short of perfect-the only reason he didn't die immediately with a hole through his heart was because one of his coat buttons"-Devil glanced down at the buttons on his coat-"like these, only larger, deflected the shot." He met Vane's eyes, then glanced at Honoria. "Charles's one real talent is that he's an exceptional marksman."