It gave way easily. She opened the door. A strong hand grabbed her arm. For the second time in a few moments, she was yanked inside as a door shut behind her with a sharp thump.
She caught herself and turned, looking from the duchesse, who was sitting up in bed, to Trevelyan, who was engaged in locking the door. She had expected to find the duchesse alone and dreaded to discover her in the midst of fatal spasms. Instead she was looking quite animated and gesturing at the door with her handkerchief. For an instant Callie was unable to perfectly comprehend the scene.
She glared at Trev.
"You!" Her whole body seemed to lose any sense of up or down; her hands went slack and then began to tremble. "What are you-" She blinked back a peculiar stinging in her eyes and nose. It was difficult to find any air for a moment, and then all her feeling came rushing back upon her at once. "You!"
He gave her a look, a little shamefaced, a wry half smile, and a shrug, so much like him that she put her hands to her mouth, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath into her lungs. When she opened them again, he was still standing there. He was not a figment of her strained nerves or imagination.
"What are you doing here?" she cried. "And that man… that man outside…" She paused as the rami fications all came clear to her. "Oh my God-he's a thief-taker!"
Nineteen
"MY DEAR-WE MUST BEG FOR YOUR AID-IF YOU WILL assist us one more time. I am so sorry to trouble you again! But there is a thief-taker, yes. I fear so."
The duchesse gave a little wry smile, and Callie saw where her son had inherited that particular expression of self-deprecating appeal. But Callie hadn't gone through coaxing Hubert out of a kitchen, masquer ading as a Belgian lady, suffering an animal rout at the cattle fair, and then discovering that Trev was married to some person who forged bank notes, without learning anything. She resisted forcefully the danger of succumbing to any Gallic charm.
"I'm very sorry," she said, holding herself stiff. "I had thought you were unwell, ma'am, and so I came as quickly as I received your note. I'm happy to see that you aren't in danger. Regarding thief-takers, I don't see what I can do in such matters. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and prevent Nurse from fetching the doctor."
She turned toward the door, half expecting that Trev would endeavor to stop her. He didn't. The duchesse said nothing. Callie reached for the latch with silence in the room behind her. She paused with her hand on the knob.
His mother made a very small cough, a faint, muff led sound, as if she tried to stif le it.
Callie dropped her hand. She turned about. "Oh, very well!" she exclaimed. "What is it?"
"It's nothing," Trev said. He stood across the room from her, making no attempt to move closer. "I didn't know that my mother had contacted you-I asked her not to do so." He gave the duchesse a brief glance. "I'll inquire into how you managed that under my very nose, Maman, but later. Please, Lady Callista, if you'll just contrive to forget that you've seen me here, you needn't concern yourself further in the situation."
"Excellent." She threw up her hands. "The last I was told, you were arrested on the Bristol quay and put to trial, and now I'm to forget I've seen you here while a thief-taker out of Bow Street lurks in the garden."
"Hired by your new fiancé, as I understand," he replied acidly. "I could wish you'd suggested to him that he call off the hounds. I've had his pursuers on my heels since I left Hereford."
For herself, she could have wished that he had mentioned he was married. But she was determined to say nothing of that. She had spent a number of nights weeping into her pillow over the disclosure, but she would die rather than allow him to know it. It was quite certain to her now that she had made the veriest fool of herself. She could not remember with any clarity their brief discussion of marriage in Hereford, though she had spent long hours trying to recall what precisely he had said about it. All she could seem to draw from her memory, with considerable blushing, were the parts that had little to do with conversation. He had not wished to marry her in the morning, however-that much she remembered perfectly.
"I beg your pardon," she said. "If you mean Major Sturgeon, the topic of you has not arisen between us in conversation."
She felt that she adhered to the spirit of the truth, if not the letter. After the incident of spilling hot bran mash all over his boots, which he had taken very well, considering, the topic had not arisen again. She lifted her chin a little. Let Trev suppose she had forgot him the moment he had disappeared by vanishing into an alley.
"It makes no matter. My apologies for disturbing you." Trev leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Please go on about your day, my lady." He seemed to find some spot on the fading wallpaper to be of deep interest, observing it with his lashes lowered.
"But you will have to go away, Trevelyan," his mother said. "I cannot… abide the strain of… worry that these thief men will discover you here."
"I'm not going away again, Maman," he said strongly, glancing at her.
"But they will come here, and come again… as they did this… morning… until I am driven… mad."
"I'll simply have to hide when they come."
"Hide where? You cannot… be under my bed… all the day while Nurse comes and goes." She clutched nervously at the bedclothes. "Already I am thinking all night, how will I make sure she does not… see you in the dressing room? It is exhausting."
"I'll think of something," Trev said.
"And now the doctor is on… his way. He must pass that thief person who… lurks outside."
"I'll think of something." Trev swung away from the wall. He gave Callie a brief, polite smile. "Let me offer my best wishes to you and Major Sturgeon on your engagement, my lady. I'm sorry that I can't make a formal call, but you'll comprehend that circum stances prevent me."
The duchesse began to cough. "Do not… pretend-" She wheezed and caught her breath. "As if… it is a drawing room! You must… have a hiding-"
"I'll think of something, Maman," he said in an edged voice. Callie looked at the duchesse, who could not seem to draw air enough into her lungs, but only put her hand to her face and covered her eyes, her body trembling with the effort.
"Well, something must be done," Callie snapped. "Your mother will fret herself to death!"
"And what precisely do you suggest, my lady?" He threw her an angry look. "Dress myself as a footman and serve you and the major your tea?"
"Or secret yourself in my bedchamber, perhaps," she retorted. "I'm certain no one would ever look for you there."
The duchesse recovered her breath. She sat up. "Perfect!" She gasped and subsided in another cough. "It's… perfect. I knew you would… aid us-"
"Maman, for God's sake-"
A distant sound of the bell made them all turn and look with apprehension toward the locked door.
"That will be Mr. Rankin," Callie said. "I'll go down and tell him he's not required."
It was indeed Mr. Rankin, but to Callie's dismay and annoyance, he hadn't arrived alone. Lilly met her on the stairs, hurrying up with her apron lifted. "They're coming into the garden, my lady!" She looked harassed. "Oh, but he's brought that awful major with him!" She stopped on the stairs, giving a little gasp, and then dropped her eyes. "Oh, I forgot-my lady. Begging your pardon, but I meant-why has he come? Madame duchesse won't want to see him!"
Callie didn't want to see him either. She recalled belatedly that he was putting up at the Antlers now; he must have heard the summons for Mr. Rankin. She closed her eyes for a moment to gather some composure. "I'll speak to them," she said. "Send them into the parlor."