Page 19 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

“Why don’t you come in?” he suggested. “Rather than standing in the doorway.”

“Oh, certainly. Of course.” She followed him into his chamber, trying to walk and breathe and think normally, even though her heart was racing.

Her husband gestured to the pair of armchairs in front of the fireplace. “You will be warmer if we sit by the fire.”

Where else could they sit? Honora wondered. Oh. He meant sitting here rather than on the bed. Right. Not only was there an undressed man in the room, there was also a bed. Oh dear. The blush that had died down began to burn her face again. This had clearly been a tactical error.

Lord Valance stared at her, looking increasingly worried. Any minute now, he was going to ask if something was wrong. She knew it.

“You must be colder than I am,” she said, feeling she had to say something.

“Oh, right!” He seemed to finally realize he was significantly less clothed than in their previous interactions. “Let me grab my dressing gown.”

She nodded and stared into the fire to compose herself. When she looked back at her husband, he wore a silk banyan tied tightly shut. The only reminder of his undressed state was the patch of bare skin she could see at the neckline.

That’s better, she thought. Except she didn’t just think it. She said it out loud. She clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had done.

“I am very sorry.” He sounded sincerely apologetic. “I did not mean to scandalize you, my lady. I ought to have put a dressing gown on before I opened the door.”

“I was not scandalized,” Honora explained, “merely distracted.”

He stared blankly at her. He seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight. She must have said something ridiculous.

She tried to rectify the situation. “This is your bedroom. You can wear as little as you want in here.” Unfortunately, that did nothing to improve the situation.

“So I can! All the same, I think I’d better keep my dressing gown on. I wouldn’t want to distract you, my lady.” He smiled at her. “Now, was there something you wanted?”

“Money.” Honora finally remembered what it was she wanted to discuss. Lord Valance’s banyan seemed to have improved her ability to think.

The confusion in his expression vanished as his face relaxed. “Oh, did you need more money? I should have thought of that. Would you prefer banknotes or coins?”

“No, no.” She held up a hand to stop him from getting out of his chair. “I don’t need more money yet. I just wanted to know what my quarterly allowance was to be.”

He shrugged. “Do you need an allowance? You can simply direct your creditors to me. You need not fear that I will refuse to pay your bills.”

“But how much can I spend?” She needed to know how much to budget, so she did not outrun the banker.

“As much as you want.” It was surprising how matter-of-factly he spoke, given the ridiculousness of his words.

“No one can spend as much as they want,” Honora insisted. Even the Prince Regent’s coffers had limits.

“I suppose not.” He shrugged. “But I have an income of some fifteen thousand pounds a year. Surely you won’t want to spend more than that?”

“Fifteen thousand pounds a year?” Honora repeated, awed.

Her family made do on five thousand a year.

Most families in their social circle had much smaller incomes.

Lord Valance’s annual income would be considered a fortune by most people.

He collected a small fortune every year. She could not wrap her mind around it.

“It might actually be closer to twenty thousand,” he said apologetically. “But I don’t remember off-hand. In any case, I doubt you’ll run into dun territory.”

“I quite agree.” Honora shook her head, trying to imagine how anyone could spend that much money. Perhaps hardened gamblers might blow through that much in a year, but she could not imagine how else anyone with such an income could run into debt.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

Honora bit her lip as she debated saying more. On the one hand, sitting by the fire in a comfortable chair had made her sleepy. The prospect of going back to her room and curling up in bed before the warming pan cooled tempted her. The night was only going to grow colder.

On the other hand, she seldom had a chance to converse with her husband alone. And he seemed to be in a good mood this evening. Not once had he rubbed his temples in pain the way he did when something annoyed him. Perhaps she ought to take advantage of the situation.

“There isn’t anything else I need, but I do have a number of questions I wanted to ask.” Was it her imagination, or did he cringe a little? No, she had not imagined it: his smile had faded.

“Yes?” he said warily. “What did you want to know?”

Honora wavered. Perhaps, after all, this was not the right time to ask questions. It might be better to bid her husband goodnight and return to her own chamber. She sighed, wondering when there ever would be a good time for her questions.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” Lord Valance prompted. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He might have lost his smile, but his voice sounded warm and encouraging.

Very well, then. Honora took a deep breath and asked the question that had most plagued her. “I was wondering why you never come to my bed at night.”