“You didn’t enjoy it,” he said blithely. “Not with him.”
Or anyone else. Her only lover had been Culpepper. Southwell was likely under a different impression, and she chose not to correct his assumption. “May I have more wine?”
Sitting up, he grabbed the bottle by the neck, filling her glass once more. “A poor situation.”
Yes, one I was forced into because of you.Anger at Southwell, for the part he’d played in her misery, resurfaced more loudly than ever. Stubbornly, Honora held on to it. Yes, Tarrington and Anabeth had humiliated her, but Southwell hadwoundedHonora.
“I’m curious about your leg.” She didn’t want to talk about Culpepper or her awful marriage. The only thing on her mind should be leading Southwell to his own eventual sense of betrayal when she seduced and discarded him. This should be fairly straightforward. Maybe she wouldn’t even allow him to bed her. She could merely lead him on and—
Oh, Honora. It’s gone far beyond that.
Honora blinked and looked away from the man before her, wishing away the delicate throbbing at the apex of her thighs. No other gentleman’s presence had produced even so much as a flutter of her heart. It made her furious.
Gideon sipped from his glass, lashes fanning over his cheeks. “Ask.”
“Your leg,” Honora replied tartly, thinking of that long-ago night at Lady Pemberton’s. “Were you injured in the pursuit of some wild animal?”
“You could say that.”
“One who crossed your path through no fault of its own? The poor thing probably deserved to go on its way, with no interference from you.” Her voice grew sharp. “But youtortured itneedlessly.”
Just as you did me.
He cocked a brow at her. “You make me sound rather unkind. Intentionally cruel. Perhaps I was only defending myself, if the animal was attacking me. Or maybe—” He paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I merely made a poor decision, as we all do.”
Honora narrowed her eyes and took another large swallow of wine. “Doubtful.” She decided she liked wine. Why on earth hadn’t she been drinking it before now? Doing so might make living with Loretta more tolerable. “You probably needed a trophy of some sort for your study.”
“The black caiman who pulled me off the side of the boat I traveled on would have made a fine trophy, but I was worried about surviving rather than making a pair of boots from his hide. When he crossed my path, intent on eating me, I suppose I should have just tossed him a chicken bone and sent him on his way.” The length of his jaw hardened, and he was gripping his glass so tightly she thought the stem might break.
She inhaled sharply at the words. Honora had been so focused on the scathing remarks she’d directed toward him she hadn’t considered that they might be true. “Gideon—”
“Or I suppose I could haveworshippedthe monster that tried to kill me. Decorated him and kept him as a pet, as the Egyptians did. What was the name of their fertility god?” he snapped at her. “The name escapes me at the moment.”
“What?” Honora’s own fingers tightened on her glass, terror gnawing at her heart. Southwell had nearly been killed. “You almost died,” she whispered.
He matters. A great deal.
“I didn’t.” He looked away from her. “Apologies, Honora, for bringing up such an unwelcome topic.” Anguish clouded his face.
“I asked,” she said quietly. “Gideon, I’m sorry. I didn’t know or else I wouldn’t have been—”
Amber glinted in the depths of his eyes as he regarded her once more. “I don’t usually speak of it. I’ve never even told Montieth what happened, outside the obvious.”
Yet he’d told her. Honora’s heart constricted painfully in her chest.
“You were right to call me arrogant. I am, or at least I used to be. I had such a belief in my own abilities that I became careless.” A brutal note entered his words. “We were mapping one of the smaller tributaries, more a swamp than anything. And not very deep. I was enjoying a brandy, congratulating myself on what an incredible job I’d done and looking forward to reaching civilization, where I could sleep in a bed, preferably not alone.” He looked up at her. “Have I shocked you with my honesty, Honora?”
“No.” She leaned over and refilled his glass. “Go on.” He needed to speak of it; Honora could see it in the way the muscles of his face tightened.
Southwell studied his wine again. “I didn’t even have my rifle, which was incredibly stupid. It was late. The moon was only half-full. The water wasn’t deep,” he said again. “So stupid.” His eyes shut firmly, and for a moment, she didn’t think he’d continue. “I propped myself up against a crate at the corner. The toe of my left boot was mere inches from the water.” When his eyes opened again, he was staring at something Honora couldn’t see. “We must have been near a nest, or maybe the caiman was just really hungry. Caiman will often swim past prey at least once, a pass of sorts to determine if the animal is worth eating before attacking. I was too busy patting myself on the back for a job well done to notice the ripples in the water when the caiman passed by the boat. The next time it did so, it came half out of the water, nearly swallowing the whole of my leg, and pulled me under.”
Honora’s hand shook as she took another mouthful of wine. Caimans as well as crocodiles and alligators took their prey underwater to drown them before feeding. He’d been alone, in that black water, with an enormous beast trying to eat him. “How did you—”
“Survive? I didn’t think I would. But I had a knife thankfully, one I wore on my belt. Stabbed it in the eye by sheer dumb luck. I was just thrusting out with the knife hoping to hit him enough times so that he would release me. I was terrified. My lungs were aching to take a breath. I wasn’t ready to die.”
Honora’s heart beat with panic as she imagined that moment. The sheer horror Southwell must have felt. Such a thing changes a person, as she suspected it had altered him.
“When I hit the eye, the beast released me but slowly, dragging its teeth down my leg. I managed to surface, bleeding, knife in hand, and yelled as loud as I could. There were lights bobbing around the boat. McCoy had noticed I was missing.”
