The look Devil shot him was sharply reproving; Vane simply raised his brows. "It might explain why he started frequenting the palaces-the timing's right. A Cynster couldn't patronize such places for long without us hearing of it, and we heard of it soon after Tolly's funeral."
Devil nodded. "But I still want to know definitely."
"When's the meeting?"
"Midnight."
Vane looked at the clock. "I'll drive-Sligo can travel behind. Lucifer'll keep watch from the street-Scandal'll be at the corner." Devil stared; Vane raised his brows. "You didn't seriously imagine we'd let you waltz in there without pickets?"
Honoria kept her lips firmly shut on the response she knew Devil would not, in this instance, appreciate-"Thank God for the Bar Cynster" was not what he was thinking.
Devil scowled. "What else have you organized?"
"Nothing." Vane's expression was mild. "But there's no earthly use imagining we'll let Charles take another easy crack at you. If you die, he'll be the head of the family-there's not one of us can stomach the thought."
Devil glanced at Honoria; when she said nothing, he looked back at Vane. "All right. But I don't want the cavalry charging in before the bugle sounds-we need to let Charles run with his master plan and let him take enough rope to hang himself."
"His master plan." Vane glanced at the note in his lap. "Is that what this is?"
Devil nodded. "It fits. I'd worried that all the other attempts were too simple, too spontaneous-simply not like Charles. You know how he thinks. Any plan of his is convoluted and complicated. He's also very conservative, socially rigid. This latest effort has his character stamped all over it. Involved, heavy with intrigue, and solidly based in society's view of me, Honoria, and Chillingworth."
"Chillingworth?" Vane frowned. "Why him?"
"Because he appears to be the perfect goad."
"For what?"
Devil smiled-chillingly. "My temper."
Vane blinked, remembering the note Devil had received, the note he hadn't been allowed to see. His expression leached. "Oh."
"Indeed. This time, Charles has outdone himself-it's really a very good plan. It might have worked." Devil glanced at Honoria. "If things had been otherwise."
Studying his eyes, she raised a brow. "I'm not well acquainted with Charles's mental processes-could you explain his master plan to me?"
Devil's lips twisted; raising her hand, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Charles needs to kill me-and now you as well-to take the title. He's tried to avoid direct action; the phaeton, the brandy, the sailors-there's no way of connecting them with him. But such chancy methods haven't succeeded. So, consider-he needs both me and you dead with a reason. After Tolly's death, accidental shooting of even one of us would cause a furore."
"No one would swallow that twice," Vane put in. "And he knows the rest of us wouldn't let your death under suspicious circumstances rest."
"Which is why he's focused on the one type of death for both of us that society will swallow without a qualm, and, even more importantly, the family will not only accept, but work with him to hide."
Vane's jaw firmed. "I don't like what I'm thinking, but if that's how he's set it up, he's read us very well."
Devil nodded. "He's clever. Not wise, but clever."
"I still don't understand," Honoria said. "What exactly is this death Charles has planned for us?"
Devil looked at her, his expression bleak. "Charles has known me all my life. He knows of my temper, of the scope of my rage; he has a reasonable idea of what might touch it off. With his three carefully structured notes, he arranged for me to find you coming out of Chilling worth's house."
"I'd worked that much out."
"From there on, he's relying on me-and my rage-to set the scene. He's counting on me to enact the role of jealously furious husband to the hilt, so he can kill us both and blame it on my sufficiently well-known temper."
Honoria held his gaze. "He's going to make it appear that you killed me in a jealous rage, and then killed yourself?"
Devil nodded.
Honoria's eyes narrowed, then flashed. Her chin firmed. "Charles," she declared, "is clearly not a Cynster." She looked at Devil. "How do we plan to catch him?"