Page 46 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

To see Belmont’s sneering expression imposed on someone else’s face was disorienting, to say the least. Perhaps that was why Honora’s stomach roiled.

“Let me go!” She struggled to escape his iron grip, but the pressure of Belmont’s hand on her wrist did not ease up.

“I only want to talk to you,” he insisted. “Surely you owe me a chance to explain myself?”

“I don’t owe you anything!” Honora snapped.

Belmont stepped closer to her. This was her chance. She hefted the candlestick as high as she could and brought it crashing down on Belmont’s head.

At least, she meant to do that. But she forgot that the figure her eyes perceived was an illusion.

The real Belmont was taller than the illusionary “stranger” who stood before her.

Consequently, she missed the top of his head and smashed him somewhere in the face.

Possibly in the vicinity of his chin, though she could not be sure.

But it worked. Belmont let go of her wrist and staggered back. Honora smacked him again with the candlestick, then ran as fast as her twisted ankle allowed. She was in luck: she crashed into Lord Markham himself outside the retiring room.

“Lady Valance?” The earl sounded considerably startled.

“Someone attacked me.” Honora pointed at the retiring room.

Lord Markham’s jaw dropped, but he collected himself quickly. “Are you injured? Do you need a physician?”

“You have to capture Belmont!” Honora insisted. “Before he gets away.”

“Belmont?” His eyes widened. “What would he be doing here? I don’t invite the Duke of Belmont to my parties!”

Very wise of him, Honora thought, but not particularly helpful.

“He’s been glamoured to look like someone else—a gentleman in a blue coat.

But I am sure it is Belmont. I recognized him.

” She stopped, not knowing how to explain the way she identified the disguised duke.

It would take too long to describe her ability to read auras. “We need to capture him.”

She rubbed her still-aching wrist. Even a duke could not assault a woman at a private ball and expect to get away with it. Could he?

“Of course, we will stop him,” Lord Markham assured her. He stormed into the room. Then he cursed.

Honora stayed in the hallway, nursing her injured wrist. What was going on in there? She would like to have seen with her own eyes, but she could not bring herself to return to the retiring room.

Lord Markham stomped into the hallway, glowering darkly. “He got out through the window. Climbed down the lattice like a common criminal! I will send one of the footmen after him. We may catch him yet.”

“Remember, Belmont is glamoured,” Honora reminded him. “He will not look like himself.”

Markham nodded, then went in search of a footman. Honora leaned against the wall of the corridor, feeling weak-kneed.

Jane Crossly found Honora still leaning against the wall, her eyes closed. Honora was trying to calm herself. So far, she had not been very successful.

“Honora!” Jane gasped. “Is something wrong? Are you unwell?”

“I . . . yes, I am unwell.” It was not a lie. Her hands trembled and her stomach churned uneasily. She was not sure her legs could support her weight if she stood away from the wall.

Jane took Honora by the arm, lending her support. “Let us take you home. You look like you need to lie down.”

“Yes, that is a good idea.” Perhaps she could relax once she returned to the familiar house on Curzon Street.

But this was not the case. She had not considered how empty the house felt with Valance gone. At this hour, only a footman remained awake. Honora roused her maid and asked for a cold compress for her tender wrist. She suspected there would be a bruise tomorrow.

But the pain was nothing compared to her fear.

What if the duke followed her home? He must know where she lived.

He might even know that Valance was out of town.

There were servants in the house who could protect her, but none of them were magicians.

So far as she knew, none of the servants could box or shoot, as Valance could.

She asked both the footman and Clack to spread the word of the possible threat to the household, but she would have felt far safer with her husband at home.

For the first time, she resented Valance for leaving her alone while he carried out his investigation. If she had gone with him to Bath, she would have been safe from the duke. Instead, her husband had left her behind without any protection. They did not even have a dog to keep watch!

Thinking of dogs reminded her of Bishop Barkley, and her shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs.

She still missed him, and she would have given a good deal to have his company tonight.

He could not have been any real protection against an attacker, but he would have been a comfort.

Perhaps, she thought wistfully, they ought to get a new puppy, and train it better than poor Barkley had been trained.

Honora blew out her candle. She tucked herself into bed, put her feet on the warming pan, and tried to soothe herself to sleep by thinking about the puppy they might add to the household. But every creak startled her, and every footstep she heard outside the window made her heart pound.

Yes, she decided, she would talk to Valance about getting a new dog. Not a Yorkshire terrier, though. A pug, perhaps? A Pomeranian? She fell asleep still thinking about what kind of dog they ought to get.

*

The day after Honora’s encounter with Belmont, Lord Markham called to see how she fared.

He was deeply apologetic about the fact that she’d been threatened in his home.

Honora assured him that she did not in the least blame her host and hostess for Belmont’s behavior.

She was far more concerned about what had happened after she left the party.

“Unfortunately, my footmen were not able to catch up to your attacker,” Lord Markham said.

“I called on His Grace this morning, but he naturally denied the whole story. He said he dined with a handful of friends last night. He even gave me their names. We can try speaking with them, but Belmont would not have named them unless he expected them to back him up.”

“I know it was Belmont,” Honora insisted. “But I have no way to prove it. No evidence to show. I can read auras, and I believe that helped me identify him. But I can’t explain how I recognized him.”

Lord Markham nodded. “I believe you. There were bruises on Belmont’s face this morning, though his valet had tried to cover them with up with cosmetics.

And you would know your magic better than anyone else.

” He smiled ruefully. “I know how hard it can be to describe intuitive magic. I am a weather mage, but I find it difficult to explain to anyone else how I know when it will rain or storm.”

“Thank you for looking into the matter,” Honora said. He really was under no obligation to help her. He might be Valance’s friend, but he did not know her at all.

“I wish I could be of better service. If you do need anything in Val’s absence, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, but I believe Valance will be home soon.” Honora forced a smile, though it probably didn’t fool anyone.

To her relief, Valance returned that afternoon. He must have been in a good mood, because he whistled as he entered the morning room.

“I am so glad to see you!” Honora stood up to greet him, and he swept her into a tight embrace. She rested her head against his solid shoulder, drank in his familiar scent, and knew she was safe. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. “Everything went all right while I was gone, I hope?”

Honora burrowed more deeply into his hug.

She had no idea how to answer that question.

She had rather not talk about Belmont, if she could help it.

She would have preferred to shove the duke into the darkest closet of her mind and lock the door.

But she knew she must confide in Valance if she wanted his protection.

“Nora,” he prompted, “Is something wrong?”

She drew a deep breath and stepped back so she could look him in the eyes. “Yes. I believe I encountered Belmont last night, in disguise.” She told him the whole story, beginning with the strange gentleman who kept watching her during the ball and ending with Lord Markham’s visit that morning.

“And you are certain it was Belmont?” Valance asked sharply.

She nodded. “I recognized his aura. Besides, he said things that would only have made sense coming from Belmont.”

“I see.” He ran a gentle finger down her cheek. “Nora, I am so sorry. Are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?”

“Only my wrist, where he grabbed me.” She showed Valance the bruise. “That was all he did.”

“I see.” Valance gently turned her wrist so he could see the whole bruise. Then he kissed her on the forehead. “I warned him.” He spoke calmly, almost absently, but his eyes had gone hard and distant.

Honora could only remember seeing that look on her husband’s face once before. “Warned him of what?” she asked, suddenly suspicious. She no longer feared Valance’s cold anger, but she could not predict what he might do when he was angry on her behalf.

“Of what would happen if he hurt you.” Valance stared off into the distance for a moment, then shook his head.

When he met her gaze again, the danger had left his eyes.

“Listen, love, I have an errand I must do before dinner. I do not like leaving you again so soon, but it is rather urgent. I should be home in time for dinner.”

Honora caught him by the sleeve before he could walk away. “Valance, I hope you are not going to do something foolish.” That look in his eyes a moment ago did not bode well for Belmont.

He smiled. “No, I do not think it is at all foolish.” He removed her hand from his sleeve, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. Then he left.

Honora did not feel in the least reassured.