Three days without a word from her on and off again lover, and a bad case of the blue devils from Michel’s abrupt finish. By the time Michel’s wildly expensive, but very discrete carriage rolled to a quiet stop just outside the servant's entrance she was so highly strung she couldn’t stand still. Daisy unlatched the gate for Honoria and grabbed at her hand when she would have passed. “Be careful, m'lady! His servants call him the Devil!” “Do they really?” A delicious shiver swept Honoria. Michel’s eyes were certainly devilish, and the way he'd awakened all her baser instincts put him—if not in league with Satan, then certainly on the road to perdition. “If you're not back by morning,” Daisy continued vehemently, clinging to Honoria’s hand, “I'll send Robbie.” Sleeping with her maid had created a tiger. Daisy’s already strong concern for Honoria had turned into a protective streak. Honoria checked to make sure no faces were staring out of the windows and risked a quick hug.
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