“Watch over Honoria, will you? See that she doesn’t marry an idiot.”

“Watch over Honoria, will you? See she doesn't marry an idiot. (Daniel Smythe-Smith)”

“Honoria couldn’t help but watch her make her way over toDaisy, and Mr. Bridgerton said, “Don’t worry, she’s mostlyharmless.”“My cousin Daisy?” she asked dubiously.“No,” he replied, momentarily nonplussed. “Lady Danbury.”Honoria looked past him to Daisy and Lady Danbury. “Is shedeaf?”“Your cousin Daisy?”“No, Lady Danbury.”“I don’t believe so.”“Oh.” Honoria winced. “That’s too bad. She might be by thetime Daisy is through with her.“That’s not going to end well,” he murmured.Honoria could do nothing but shake her head and murmur,“No.”“Is your cousin fond of her toes?”Honoria blinked in confusion. “I believe so, yes.”“She’ll want to watch that cane, then.”Honoria looked back just in time to see Daisy let out a smallshriek as she tried to jump back. She was not successful with thelatter; Lady Danbury’s cane had her pinned rather firmly.”

“Marcus’s appearance theday before had been discussed, dissected, analyzed, and—by LadySarah Pleinsworth, Honoria’s cousin and one of her closest friends—rendered into poetry.“He came in the rain,” Sarah intoned. “The day had been plain.”Honoria nearly spit out her tea.“It was muddy, this lane—”Cecily Royle smiled slyly over her teacup. “Have youconsidered free verse?”“—our heroine, in pain—”“I was cold,” Honoria put in.Iris Smythe-Smith, another of Honoria’s cousins, looked up withher signature dry expression. “I am in pain,” she stated.“Specifically, my ears.”Honoria shot Iris a look that said clearly, Be polite. Iris justshrugged.“—her distress, she did feign—”“Not true!” Honoria protested.“You can’t interfere with genius,” Iris said sweetly.“—her schemes, not in vain—”“This poem is devolving rapidly,” Honoria stated.“I am beginning to enjoy it,” said Cecily.“—her existence, a bane . . .”Honoria let out a snort. “Oh, come now!”“I think she’s doing an admirable job,” Iris said, “given thelimitations of the rhyming structure.” She looked over at Sarah, whohad gone quite suddenly silent. Iris cocked her head to the side; sodid Honoria and Sarah.Sarah’s lips were parted, and her left hand was still outstretchedwith great drama, but she appeared to have run out of words.“Cane?” Cecily suggested. “Main?”“Insane?” offered Iris.“Any moment now,” Honoria said tartly, “if I’m trapped heremuch longer with you lot.”

“She was in big trouble now."You stupid man," she said to the body on the floor. "Why did you have to lunge at me like that? Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? I told your father I wasn't going to marry you. I told him I wouldn't marry you if you were the last idiot in Britain."She nearly stamped her foot in frustration. Why was it her words never came out quite the way sheintended them to? "What I meant to say was that you are an idiot," she said to Percy, who, notsurprisingly, didn't respond, "and that I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in Britain, and- Oh, blast. What am I doing talking to you, anyway? You're quite dead.”

“Honoria nodded and was about to say something utterlyforgettable when she saw that his hand had been bandaged.“I hope your injury is not severe,” she said politely.“Oh, this?” he held up his hand. His fingers were free to waggle,but the rest of it looked rather like a mitt. “It’s nothing. Analtercation with a letter opener.”“Well, please do be careful of infection,” Honoria said,somewhat more forcefully than was de rigueur. “If it grows red, orswollen, or even worse, yellow, then you must see a doctor atonce.”“Green?” he quipped.“I beg your pardon?”“You listed so many colors about which I must be wary.”For a moment Honoria could only stare. Wound infection wasnot a laughing matter.“Lady Honoria?” he murmured.She decided to proceed as if he’d said nothing. “Mostimportantly, you must watch for reddish streaks spreading from thewound. Those are the worst.”He blinked, but if he was startled by the turn of theconversation, he did not show it. Instead he looked down at hishand with a curious eye and said, “How red?”“I beg your pardon?”“How red do the streaks have to be before I must worry?”“How do you know so much about medicine?” Lady Danburycut in.“Do you know, I’m not sure how red,” Honoria told Mr.Bridgerton. “I would think anything stripey ought to be a cause foralarm.”

“Honoria Smythe-Smith,” Sarah said, positively grinning, “I amso proud of you.”“I would ask why,” Honoria replied warily, “but I’m not sure Iwant to know the answer”