She blinked her eyes wide. "Naturally-I was raised an Anstruther-Wetherby."
Smiling, Devil lowered his head. "You were raised to be a Cynster."
He kissed her-and kept kissing her. The carriage rolled slowly through the gathering gloom, through the quiet shadows beneath the trees.
Breathless moments later, Honoria discovered that he could be remarkably resourceful, too. "Great heavens!" She had barely enough breath to whisper the words. "We can't-" Her hands closed tightly about Devil's wrists; her head fell back as she struggled for breath. "Where are we?"
"In the park." Intent on what he was doing, Devil didn't raise his head. "If you look outside, you'll see a number of carriages slowly rolling around the circuit."
"I can't believe-" A burst of pleasure stripped the thought from Honoria's mind; she struggled to hold back a moan. The thought that replaced the first had her blinking her eyes wide. "What about John and Sligo?" On a gasp, she met Devil's eyes. "Won't they realize?"
The grin on her husband's lips could only be described as devilish. "The trick's in the timing-trust me, they won't feel a thing."
They didn't-but she, and he, certainly did.
It seemed like hours-an infinite number of panting, gasping, desperately silent minutes later-when, slumped against Devil's chest, Honoria wriggled, then wriggled again. Frowning, she sat up and examined the buttons on his coat.
"Horrible things-they're sticking into me." She turned the mother-of-pearl buttons about. "They're not as big as the ones Tolly had, but they're quite bad enough."
Devil's eyes, closed in blissful peace, snapped open. "What?"
"These buttons-they're too large."
"No-what else did you say?"
Honoria frowned even more. "That they're like the ones on Tolly's coat?"
Devil stared into the distance, then he closed his eyes-and closed his arms about Honoria, drawing her close. "That's it." He spoke the words into her hair. "That's what I've been trying to remember about Tolly's death."
Honoria held him. "The button deflecting the ball? Does it help?"
His chin resting in her hair, Devil nodded. "It helps. It's the final nail in our would-be-murderer's coffin."
Honoria tried to look at Devil's face, but he held her too tightly. "You're sure who it is?"
Devil sighed. "Beyond doubt."
Three minutes later, their clothes precisely correct once more, the duke and duchess of St. Ives headed back to Grosvenor Square.
Chapter 24
Vane was waiting in the library when Honoria and Devil entered. He searched their faces, then relaxed.
"The end is nigh." Devil handed Honoria to the chaise, then sat beside her.
Vane sat in an armchair. "What happened?"
Devil gave him a severely edited account, proffering only the note Honoria had received. "The one I got was in the same hand." Vane studied the note, then frowned. Devil suggested: "Look at the writing itself, not the style."
Vane's face cleared. "The nib! He always uses those wide nibs so his writing looks heavier. We've got him!"
"Yes, and no. Everything we've discovered is circumstantial. Given what I've remembered today-"
"And my news, which I've yet to tell you," Vane cut in.
"Put it together," Devil continued, "and the murderer's identity's obvious. Obvious, however, isn't proof."
Vane grimaced; Devil's expression was bleak. Honoria glanced from one to the other. "But who is it?" When they looked at her blankly, she nearly ground her teeth. "You haven't told me yet."