Page 22 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

“Damn,” Valance growled.

Honora flinched, startled both by his profanity and the uncharacteristic anger in his voice. He stared ahead at a horseman approaching them. She squinted at the figure too. Speak of the devil! Belmont himself rode towards them.

“Turn around,” she gasped. “Please.” She had thought she would never have to see Belmont again, since she no longer lived near his principal seat. She’d forgotten that the duke came to London every year for the Parliamentary sessions.

“It is too late for that,” Lord Valance replied. “And we would do well not to retreat. We don’t want him to think we are scared of him.”

But I am scared of him. Honora’s stomach soured from the sheer weight of her dread.

In her panic, she accidentally squeezed Barkley too tightly, forcing a whimper from him.

She stroked his head by way of apology. She supposed it really was too late to retreat now.

Belmont had already stopped his horse next to their carriage so he could greet them.

“Well met, Your Grace,” Lord Valance said.

Honora glanced up at Lord Valance, puzzled by the change in his tone. The growl of a moment ago was gone. Instead, he drawled his words lazily, exaggerating his usual speech pattern into a caricature of a languid aristocrat.

“Indeed, Lord Valance.” Belmont did not look at Valance. Instead, he studied Honora with eyes as cold as a basilisk’s. “Miss Grantly, I am afraid you left my party under the weight of some misconception. I wish—”

Lord Valance interrupted. “I must ask you to address my viscountess by her proper title.” He continued to speak in that listless drawl, but his eyes looked every bit as hard as the duke’s.

Belmont flicked his eyes in Lord Valance’s direction and nodded.

Then he turned back to Honora. “My apologies, Lady Valance. I meant no disrespect. It is only that your marriage is so recent—and so very unexpected—that I keep forgetting you are Miss Grantly no more. I congratulate you on your nuptials, my dear.”

Honora shuddered at the unwanted endearment. Then, to her surprise, Bishop Barkley growled at the duke.

“I am sorry! I do not know why my dog is behaving so. He is normally quite friendly.” She tightened her grip on Barkley to keep him from jumping out of the carriage.

Belmont shrugged. “Animals take unusual dislikes. It is nothing you need apologize for.”

“Animals often have excellent instincts when it comes to evaluating character,” Lord Valance said. “Her Ladyship’s pet usually shows good taste.”

Honora’s mouth fell ajar. Her husband’s remark, delivered with such casual insolence, shocked her. Especially since Lord Valance did not even like Bishop Barkley.

“Perhaps the dog takes his manners from his master,” the duke retorted. Then he inclined his head in farewell. “I hope to see you again, Lady Valance.” He pointedly excluded her husband.

“Likewise.” Lord Valance nodded and urged his horses to walk on.

Honora felt as if she had been battered over the head.

The encounter with Belmont had frightened and confused her in equal measure.

She stared up her husband, wondering who he really was.

She had never heard him speak with such incivility.

It surprised her all the more that he would speak that way to a man as important as the Duke of Belmont.

Lord Valance glanced down at her and frowned. “Is something wrong, my lady?”

So many things seemed wrong that Honora did not know where to begin. “Why did you speak to Belmont that way? He will be angry.”

“Good. I want him to be angry. He must not be allowed to insult you.” Lord Valance’s expression had taken on what Honora privately thought of as his “grumpy bulldog look.” His dark eyes, normally as soft as a puppy’s, still looked cold and hard.

“But he is a dangerous man to cross.” Why had she never thought about the possible consequences Lord Valance might face for having offended the duke? “He is one of the most powerful men in London, and—”

“And I am younger than him, stronger than him, and a better shot with a pistol,” Lord Valance reminded her.

“You need not worry about Belmont, my lady. The duke doesn’t stand a chance against Bishop Barkley and me.

” He sounded almost cheerful now, as if he relished the prospect of a fight.

Barkley, recognizing his own name, wagged his tail.

Honora shook her head, feeling she did not in the least understand the masculine mind.

If they lived in patriarchal times, when men settled their disputes by clubbing their adversaries over the head with the jawbone of an ass, Lord Valance would undoubtedly be the victor in a confrontation with Belmont.

But they lived in the nineteenth century, and disputes were seldom settled with donkey bones or brute violence.

The duke’s greater wealth and superior political connections might give him all the advantage he needed if it came to a fight.

But she did not feel up to an argument, so she contented herself with saying: “I don’t want you to get into trouble on my behalf, my lord.”

“It is my privilege to defend you, since you are my wife. But I will do my best not to get shot, arrested, or bankrupted in the process.” He smiled down at her.

His eyes had lost that cold look, and altogether he seemed much more like the man she thought she knew than like the dangerous stranger of a moment ago.

“In any case, it is nothing you need worry about, my lady.”

Honora scowled. It certainly seemed like something for her to worry about!

But she did not have a chance to argue, because a pair of riders pulled up to greet them.

Wonder of wonders, Honora knew one of them!

It was Jane Crossly, a friend from her school days.

To see a familiar face after so many strangers was a delightful surprise, and Honora returned home in much better spirits.

Even so, she very much hoped she would not run into the Duke of Belmont again.