Turning, Honoria held out her hands. "I'll need some salve, Webster."
"Indeed, miss." Without a blink, Webster relinquished the bowl into her care. "I'll fetch some immediately."
The instant he'd gone, Honoria turned-straight into a furious glower.
"This is not a good idea."
She raised a brow, then bent and placed the bowl on the floor. "Stop complaining-you'll survive."
Devil watched her gown draw tight over her bottom-abruptly, he shook his head. "Maybe-but will I be sane?"
Wringing out a cloth, Honoria cast him a measuring glance. Rising, she folded the cloth, then stepped up beside him, her legs almost touching his thigh. Placing one hand on his shoulder, she drew it forward, bringing a deep cut into view. Under her fingers, his skin was warm, resilient, very much alive. "Think of something else." Carefully, she
started to bathe the cut.
Closing his eyes, Devil drew a deep breath. Think of something else. Just as well he was sitting, or she'd know for a fact just what his "else" was. His cuts and scrapes barely rated on his scale of afflictions; his major hurt was throbbing steadily, and was only going to get worse. She was so close, leaning over, reaching around his shoulder; her perfume surrounded him, wreathing his senses, leaving him giddy with need.
Small hands touched gently, hesitantly; she started when his muscles shifted, flickering beneath her fingers. Clenching his fists, Devil anchored them to his knees; when Webster returned, salve-pot in hand, he all but sighed with relief. "How's Sligo?"
It was an effort, but he managed to keep his butler talking until, with every last scratch bathed and salved, Honoria finally stepped back.
"There." Wiping her hands on the towel Webster held for her, she slanted him a questioning glance.
Devil returned it with a blank stare. He waited while Webster gathered ruined clothes, towels, salve, and basin, then swept magisterially out. Honoria turned to watch him go-silently, Devil rose and moved up behind her. He'd lost the battle with his demons five minutes before.
"Now!" Honoria turned-straight into Devil's arms. "What-?" Her words died as she looked into his eyes. A feeling of being about to be devoured washed over her. She felt his hand at the base of her throat. It rose, framing her jaw as his head lowered.
He waited for no permission, implied or otherwise, but took her mouth rapaciously. Honoria felt her bones melt; beneath that onslaught, resistance fled. He shifted and moved her; her legs hit the bed end. Lifting her against him, he knelt on the bed, then they were toppling together. She landed on her back-he landed on top of her. Directly on top of her.
Any thought of struggling vanished; the hunger that roared through him, the sheer muscled weight of him, tense, rigid, and ready to claim her, lit her fires instantly. Honoria wrapped her arms about his neck and feverishly kissed him back.
He pressed his hands into the down covers and slid them beneath her hips, fingers firming, then tilting her against him. More definite, more fascinating than before, she felt the rigid column of his desire ride against her. Instinctively, she writhed beneath that throbbing weight-wanting, needing. "God Almighty!"
Devil's weight left her-she was plucked rudely from the bed. Trapped in his arms in a froth of petticoats, blinking wildly, Honoria saw the door approaching; juggling her, Devil swung it wide. And deposited her on her feet in the corridor.
"What…?" Breasts swelling, Honoria whirled to face him, the rest of her question writ large in her eyes.
Devil pointed a finger at her nose. "Your declaration." He looked wild, dark hair disheveled, black brows slashing down, lips a thin, hard line. His chest rose and fell dramatically.
Honoria drew in a deep breath.
"Not now!" Devil scowled. "When you've thought it over properly."
With that, he slammed the door.
Honoria's jaw dropped; she stared at the oak panels. Abruptly snapping her mouth shut, she reached for the doorknob.
And heard the lock fall home.
In utter disbelief, she stared at the door, her mouth open once more. Then she gritted her teeth, screwed her eyes tight and, fists clenched, gave vent to a frustrated scream.
She opened her eyes-the door remained shut.
Jaw setting ominously, Honoria swung on her heel and stalked off.
*****
Devil escaped from his house and sought refuge at Manton's. It was late afternoon, a time when many of his peers still in town could be counted on to look in, to spend an hour or two culping wafers in convivial company.