Page 28 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

Before marrying Valance, Honora had not been in the habit of drinking hard liquor, or even fortified wines.

She had never even tried port till she came to Carrington House.

But neither Valance nor Mr. Carrington thought it at all strange that she wanted to try the drinks they enjoyed.

She discovered she did not care for whisky or port, but she did like cherry brandy.

Valance poured a snifter of it now and handed it to her without her asking.

Her husband lounged in his chair, resting his feet on a low ottoman while he rubbed his temples. Honora sat more primly, her feet flat on the floor. She could not relax. A few sips of the brandy spread a pleasant warmth throughout her body, but it did little to quiet her buzzing nerves.

“Does your head hurt terribly?” If she was the one who’d given him that headache, she felt sorry for that, but she did not know what she could have done differently.

He shook his head. “It’s not so bad. I have some paregoric lozenges on hand if I need them.” He took a sip of his brandy. “So. What, precisely, do you want to know?” He looked a little more relaxed now. Maybe the brandy worked more effectively for him.

Everything, Honora thought. She wanted to know everything. The buzzing in her veins seemed to be equal parts excitement and nerves. Her mouth had gone dry, so she took another sip of brandy before answering him.

“I know so very little,” she began. “I know men and women can lie together, and sometimes it gets the woman with child. I know people enjoy doing it. Especially men.” She stared down into her brandy as she tried to sort the few scraps of information she had collected over the years.

“People usually take their clothes off to do it. And I think it has something to do with, ah, genitals. That is about all I know.”

He nodded. “That is all right as far as it goes, but it does not nearly go far enough.”

Honora looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Well, I don’t really know where to start.” He swirled the brandy around in his glass, staring at it much the way Honora kept staring at her drink. “I suppose we should start with the body parts.”

Valance gave her a brief and somewhat confusing explanation about cocks and cunnies (a word she had never heard before), rutting and spending.

His frequent pauses to clear his throat and the way he kept averting his eyes suggested that he found this topic difficult to discuss.

Even so, he answered all of her questions, from “Will that hurt me?” (“Maybe the first time”) to “Is this something you enjoy doing?” (Answered with a sound suspiciously like a smothered laugh, followed by a flat “Yes.”)

He drained the last of the brandy in his glass and looked thoughtfully at the decanter. But he seemed to decide against drinking more. Instead, he set his glass down. “Does that explanation satisfy you? Or do you want step-by-step instructions?” The corners of his mouth curled up with amusement.

“Yes, the latter.” Honora nodded her head briskly.

“I was joking!” His face fell into the familiar grumpy bulldog lines.

“I know,” Honora admitted. “But it was a good idea. Why don’t you tell me exactly what will happen when we go to bed?”

He leaned his head on his hand and studied her thoughtfully. “You are not going to give me any peace until I explain everything in minute detail, are you?”

“No, I am not.” Honora felt relieved he understood that much about her.

“Would you rather I tell you? Or”—he hesitated for only a moment—“Had you rather I show you?”

Honora swallowed nervously. She did very much want to find out what it was like to go to bed with a man.

And she specifically wanted to know how her husband would treat her in bed.

But she had assumed, based on Valance’s obvious dislike of the conversation, that they would once again put that off for another night.

She hadn’t expected him to offer a choice.

“Whichever is easier for you,” she said politely.

He chuckled ruefully. “It would be easiest for me to go to bed and pretend we never had this conversation. But I don’t think you want that, do you?”

Honora shook her head. “If you need an heir, we are going to have to do this eventually.” He could not go his whole life without consummating their marriage—could he?

Did he really find it so distasteful a prospect?

He said he enjoyed bedding women, but that did not mean he wanted to bed her. Her stomach sank at that thought.

“I suppose if you don’t find me desirable, then we could .

. .” Could what? There was no way to get out of the marriage now.

Was there? No, there was! She brightened.

“I could get caught committing adultery, so you could sue for divorce. Would that be best?” It seemed a lot of trouble to go through, but if it was the only way of freeing Valance from an unwanted duty, so be it.

Valance’s eyes widened. “What are you even talking about?” He sounded absolutely horrified. “Get caught committing adultery? Have you taken leave of your senses? The whole point of this marriage was to preserve your reputation!”

“Oh, right. But I couldn’t think of another way to release you from this marriage.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she thought. “What if I faked my own death?”

How would one go about that? Could she find a corpse that resembled her? Or would it be possible to enchant a corpse so it looked like her? Probably Valance could do that with one of those notes he imbued with his magic. But there was still a problem. . .

“Do you know where I can obtain a dead body?” Honora asked.

She had thought Valance’s eyes were opened as wide as possible, but she was wrong, because they widened even further.

“My God, you are even more outrageous than Peregrine.” He sounded almost awed. “I had not thought such a thing was possible, but in all the years I have known him, he has never once asked me to help him find a dead body.”

“Since he is your best friend, I will take that as a compliment.” Honora lifted her chin boldly, feeling she had scored a hit.

He grinned back at her. “Point to you. But you are talking utter nonsense, you know. Why would I want to get out of this marriage? I like you.”

“Oh.” Honora once again found it necessary to stare into the depths of the empty brandy snifter in her hand. “I thought perhaps you regretted marrying me.”

“Regret marrying the most beautiful woman in England? I think not!” he scoffed.

She jerked her head up, startled. She expected to see him grinning at his own joke.

But though a faint smile lingered about his lips, he did not look amused.

He looked as if he was admiring her Honora’s heart skipped a beat, and the weight in her stomach lightened.

Perhaps she had misunderstood the situation.

“Well, my lady, what would you have us do? Do you wish to sit here talking all night? Or had you rather go get ready for bed, and wait for me to come to your room?”

Honora narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Will you actually visit me tonight?” She could not help remembering their wedding night, when she had stayed up for hours waiting for him. In hindsight, she probably ought to have asked him about his intentions rather than making assumptions.

“If you wish me to, yes,” he promised. “But there is no need to rush anything—”

“It could hardly be rushing, given that we have been married over a month.” Perhaps she spoke a little tartly, though she had not meant it as a criticism.

Lord Valance flinched. “Do you feel I have neglected you?”

Honora studied her empty glass again as she searched for the right words. It was rather a difficult question. “Maybe at first. A little.”

She thought about the morning after the wedding, when her husband left her alone at Carrington House without a word of explanation, though she had been scared and confused at the rapid changes in her life.

At the time, she had not even realized how frightened she was.

She had left her old life behind and embraced a new one in the span of less than twenty-four hours.

Looking back, it seemed like a feverish dream.

“But you have not neglected me lately,” she acknowledged.

Over the last few weeks, Lord Valance had shown her a good deal of attention. Not only had he carved time out to speak with her alone, he had escorted her about town. She had no idea what had caused this change, but she had no complaints. On the contrary, she had discovered she enjoyed his company.

“I like you too, you know,” she shyly added.

He stood up so he could bow to her, though he did not drop the grin on his face. “I am glad to hear that, my lady. But if you will excuse me, I ought to ready myself for bed. I will see you in, say, half an hour?”

“Yes,” she agreed, and headed to her room.