"Dunford?"

He blinked and looked up. Alex was apparently trying to ask him a question. "Yes?"

"I asked," Alex repeated, "if Henry has given you similar cause for alarm in recent weeks."

"If you don't count her continued adventures with the beehives of Stannage Park, then she has been the soul of dignity and decorum."

"Really?" Emma asked. "What did you do?"

"Oh, it was nothing," Henry replied, not daring to glance at Dunford. "All I did was reach in and pull out a bit of honeycomb."

"What you did," he said sternly, "was nearly get yourself stung by a hundred angry insects."

"Did you really put your hand into a beehive?" Emma leaned forward interestedly. "I should love to know how to do it."

"I should be forever in your debt," Alex interjected, directing his words at Henry, "if you would endeavor never to teach my wife how."

"I wasn't in any danger," Henry said quickly. "Dunford likes to exaggerate."

"He does?" Alex asked, raising his brows.

"He was very anxious," she told him, then turned to Emma as if she had to explain. "He gets very anxious."

"Anxious?" Emma echoed.

"Dunford?" Alex asked at the very same time.

"You must be joking," Emma added, in a tone that suggested there could be no other possible alternative.

"Suffice it to say," Dunford cut in, eager to make short work of this line of conversation, "that she managed to take ten years off my life, and that is the end of the subject."

"I suppose it will have to be," Henry said, looking at Emma with a little shrug, "as he has made me promise never to eat honey again."

"He did? Dunford, how could you? Even Alex hasn't been that beastly."

If her husband objected to the implication that he might be a little beastly, he made no comment.

"Just so that I do not go down in history as the most overbearing man in Britain, Emma, I did not forbid her to eat honey." Dunford turned back to Henry. "I merely made you promise not to procure it yourself, and frankly, this conversation has grown tedious."

Emma leaned toward Henry and whispered in a voice that could be heard clearly on the other side of the table, "I have never seen him this way."

"Is that good?"

"Very."

"Emma?" Dunford said, his voice frighteningly casual.

"Yes, Dunford?"

"It is only my extreme good manners and the fact that you are a lady that prevent me from telling you to shut up."

Henry looked frantically at Alex, positive that he was about to call Dunford out for insulting his wife. But the duke merely covered his mouth and started to choke on something that must have been a laugh, for he hadn't taken a bite in several minutes.

"Extreme good manners, indeed," Emma replied tartly.

"It certainly cannot be the fact that you are a lady," Henry said, thinking that Dunford must be very good friends with the Ashbournes if Alex was laughing at what might have been perceived as an insult to Emma. "Because he once told me to shut up, and I have it on the best authority that I am a lady as well."

This time Alex started to cough so violently that Dunford felt compelled to whack him on the back. Of course, he just may have been looking for an excuse to do so.

"And whose authority is that?" Dunford asked.

"Why, yours of course." Henry leaned forward, her eyes glinting devilishly. "And you should know."

Emma joined her husband in a duet of coughing spasms.

Dunford sat back in his seat, a reluctant smile of admiration creeping across his face. "Well, Hen," he said, waving his arm at the duke and duchess, "we seem to have made short work of these two."

Henry tilted her head to the side. "It wasn't very difficult, was it?"

"Not at all. Presented no challenge whatsoever."

"Emma, my dear," Alex said, regaining his breath, "I think our honor has just been impugned."

"I'll say. I haven't laughed so hard for ages." Emma stood and motioned for Henry to follow her into the drawing room. "Let's be off, Henry, and leave these gentlemen to their stuffy cigars and port."

"There you have it, minx," Dunford said as he rose to his feet. "You'll finally be able to find out what goes on when the ladies retire after supper."

"Did he call you 'minx'?" Emma asked as she and Henry exited the room.

"Er, yes, he calls me that sometimes."

Emma rubbed her hands together. "This is better than I thought."

"Henry! Wait just a moment!"

Henry turned around to see Dunford striding quickly toward her. "If I might have a quick word with you," he said.

"Yes, yes, of course."

He drew her aside and spoke in a low whisper that Emma, no matter how hard she pricked her ears, could not hear. "I need to see you tonight."

Henry thrilled at the urgency in his voice. "You do?"

He nodded. "I need to speak with you privately."

"I'm not certain..."

"I've never been more certain. I'll rap on your door at midnight."

"But Alex and Emma—"

"Always retire at eleven." He smiled rakishly. "They enjoy their privacy."

"All right, but—"

"Good. I'll see you then." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. "Not a word of this to anyone."

Henry blinked and watched him return to the dining room.