Page 18 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

It did not take long for Honora to learn what things would set Lord Valance off where his mother was concerned. Mrs. Valance had a way of widening her eyes, frowning, and saying “But, Oliver . . .” whenever she disliked something his lordship said.

Every time she did that, Lord Valance’s whole body would stiffen.

Not long after that, he would begin to massage his temples.

Eventually, he would announce that he had a headache and leave the room.

Honora could not tell if he was actually in pain or if he used his frequent headaches as an excuse for escaping his mother. Both seemed equally plausible.

Initially, Honora found Mrs. Valance easy to deal with. Mrs. Valance always behaved politely—even deferentially—to Honora, despite being a generation older. She told Honora stories about “Oliver’s” boyhood, his prowess as a cricket player, and the high marks he’d earned at school.

But Honora noticed that when Mrs. Valance mentioned the Carrington family, she always scrunched up her face distastefully, as if she had just taken a sip of unsweetened lemonade.

What was that about? Lord Valance seemed quite attached to Mr. and Miss Carrington.

So far as she could tell, they were his closest personal friends.

Miss Carrington was still visiting her family in Surrey, but Mr. Carrington frequently dined with them at Curzon Street.

When next he came to dinner, Mr. Carrington happily spent an hour explaining to Honora why he had decided to set up his meteorite trap in the country rather than in London.

Mrs. Valance frowned throughout most of the conversation, and shook her head expressively when the ladies and gentlemen separated.

Honora, who found Mr. Carrington’s astronomical magic fascinating, did not understand her mother-in-law’s objection.

“It never seemed right to me that Sir John Carrington was appointed as Oliver’s guardian,” Mrs. Valance told Honora one day.

“I understand why the testamentary guardian had to be a gentleman rather than a lady, and of course I was appointed as Oliver’s caregiver.

But we are not at all related to the Carringtons.

It would have made more sense to appoint one of my brothers as guardian, don’t you think?

I can’t imagine why my husband wrote his will that way. ”

“Perhaps he thought it would be helpful to have a guardian who lived close at hand.” Given the late Mr. Valance’s untimely death, it must have been convenient that the Carrington estate and the Valance estate bordered each other.

Mrs. Valance shook her head, looking as sour as she always did when discussing the Carringtons.

“I am sure Sir John was a worthy man, but I could never approve of the way he and Lady Carrington raised their children. They let them do whatever they wanted! Climb trees, swim in the pond in the middle of winter, stay up late playing noisy parlor games, make fire balloons—”

“Fire balloons?” Honora had never heard of such a thing.

“Out of coated paper, I believe. Or was it silk? And a sponge soaked in spirits. Either way, it is a wonder they didn’t burn down the whole forest. And they let Peregrine do all sorts of dangerous magical experiments.” Mrs. Valance shook her head.

“That all sounds fun,” Honora said wistfully. “My parents never let me climb trees.” She had no idea how one made a fire balloon but she felt certain she would not have been allowed to do that, either.

“Well, of course not!” Mrs. Valance sounded scandalized by the very idea.

“Because your parents were raising you to be a young lady, and not a hoyden. But Lady Carrington let her daughters run just as wild as the boys, and now look at them! Both of them unconventional and very Blue. Miss Hannah is eighteen already, and the family have made no push to give her a Season or make a match for her.”

“Lucky her.” A sour taste filled Honora’s mouth at the memory of the way her mother had urged her to encourage the Duke of Belmont’s suit.

“Lucky?” Mrs. Valance’s eyes widened with dismay. “My dear Lady Valance! Surely you don’t mean that? Why, the poor girl will end up as peculiar as her older sister!” Her voice hushed as she added, “I believe that Miss Carrington doesn’t even attempt to move in decent society anymore.”

Honora’s mouth fell open. It was the first time she’d seen that look of dismay directed at her rather than her husband.

Some part of her wanted to immediately apologize for misspeaking, though she had done nothing more than state her honest opinion.

Was this how Lord Valance felt when his mother turned her big brown eyes toward him and said “But Oliver . . .!”?

No wonder the poor man spent all his afternoons at the club.

While Honora sympathized with her husband, she also thought it unfair that he so often abandoned her to deal with his mother while he went and did whatever it was men of leisure did all day.

She never had a chance to tell him so, because she rarely had a chance to talk to him without his mother either present or likely to walk in on the conversation. It was really quite vexing.

True, Honora had plenty of her own tasks to keep her occupied. She had developed a regular routine for her mornings: walking the dog, a daily conference with the housekeeper, then reading and answering letters.

Letters were more important to Honora than ever before, though she received fewer of them.

Her only source of information about her family now was her friend Verena, the daughter of the clergyman at Ashton Chipping.

Thanks to Verena, she at least had the comfort of knowing her siblings were all in good health, though Verena reported that Dora seemed out of spirits.

Honora could not begin to imagine how hard things must be for Dora.

She tried to keep her afternoons free for errands.

Knowing Lady Grantly was not going to send her any of her possessions from home, Honora had more shopping to do.

Most importantly, she finally replaced her spectacles so she could read and embroider without giving herself a headache.

She purchased a pair that had been charmed to prevent the lens from breaking in a fall.

They were attractive, made of silver frames with oval-shaped lenses, but their price took her aback.

After Honora came home with her new spectacles, she dug the leather purse out of the dresser drawer where she kept it hidden.

She counted the remaining coins and realized, uneasily, that she had no idea how to manage her money, because she did not know how much she could spend.

Lord Valance had never told her how much pin money she was to have.

In the normal order of things, her allowance would have been spelled out clearly in the marriage contract, but they had never had such contracts drawn up.

She would need to talk to His Lordship about money.

That was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of Mrs. Valance, which meant catching him sometime when they were alone.

Which was never. She pondered the problem and decided her best option was to waylay Lord Valance right before he went to bed for the night.

The master suite was the only place where she could be certain they wouldn’t be interrupted.

That night, she cracked open the door between their bedchambers so she could hear when Lord Valance came in with his valet to undress. His valet was a quiet man who did not tend to engage in chit-chat, so she had to listen intently for the door shutting behind him.

Once Preston departed, she drew a deep breath, then tapped on the door leading into Lord Valance’s room.

He opened it at once, and her jaw dropped.

She had imagined she would find him in a night shirt, maybe even a dressing gown, but that was not the case.

He wore only his smalls, exposing more of the adult male body than Honora had ever seen before. It was rather a distracting sight.

“Yes, my lady? Was there something you wanted?”

“Um,” Honora began. She had to forcibly remind herself that the rules of social interaction required one to make eye contact when speaking to another person.

Dragging her eyes up to her husband’s face took real effort.

Lord Valance had a pleasant face, but she had seen it every day for a couple of weeks, whereas she’d had no prior opportunity to see him in a state of undress.

She could not help being intrigued by the sight.

In addition to having body hair in places she had not expected, Lord Valance was more heavily muscled than she had realized.

That must be the result of all those visits to Gentleman Jackson’s.

He was plump about the midsection, but she suspected there was hard muscle underneath that softness.

She would have had to touch him to know for sure, though.

She clenched her hands, wishing she dared to touch him. Blood rushed to her face as she grappled with her unmaidenly desires.

A concerned wrinkle formed in Lord Valance’s brow. “Is something wrong?”

The moment she opened her mouth, Honora began to babble.

“I don’t remember what I wanted. So, it probably wasn’t important.

So, I should go. Now. Yes, I should go now.

” Her blush deepened with every ridiculous word she uttered.

She took a step back, thinking a retreat was the best way to end this horrific awkwardness.

“Wait,” he said. “This might be a good time to talk.”

Ah, right, that was what she had come here for. She had not come here to ogle her husband. “Yes, talk,” she agreed. “Talking is good. I like to talk.”

She was not sure whether she wished he would put his dressing gown on, so she would not be distracted, or keep it off, so she could keep admiring him. She longed to run her fingers through the hair on her chest, because she had no idea what the texture was like.