Irrational pleasure and rational consternation warred for a moment. Rationality won out and was all the more enraged by the moment of foolish weakness. She stood up and snapped, "Show yourself this instant."
There was no reply. Callie glared at the door. She refused to go over and peer into it as if she were looking for a mouse that had escaped round the corner.
"If you don't come out, I shall scream," she threat ened, her voice taut.
After a long moment, Trev appeared in the doorway. He didn't move into the room, but put his hand against the frame and looked at her under a sullen lowering of his lashes. "You wouldn't scream," he murmured. "I've never heard you scream in all your life."
He was, of course, perfectly correct, but that gained him no prizes in her estimation. "I beg you will explain to me, sir, precisely what you're doing in my bedchamber."
"Raiding your jewelry casket, of course. I already have a Runner after me and a price on my head, why not actually commit a crime?"
"Oh, have you a price on your head too?" Her eyebrows arched. "I hadn't heard that much."
"Courtesy of Colonel Davenport. There are broad sides pasted up in town. Seven guineas for my capture."
"Seven guineas! How unfortunate that I missed them. I might have turned you in and spared myself this visitation in my room."
He appeared a little taken aback at that. "I'm sorry-I know it's awkward, but my mother's taken it into her head that I must leave Dove House."
"I see," Callie said coldly. "And therefore naturally you felt my bedroom was your obvious destination."
"It's ridiculous, of course. I won't leave her again, though, and I need a safe place. Hide in plain sight, you know. I didn't suppose you would…" He stopped, looking as if he couldn't quite discover the tail to his own sentence.
"You didn't suppose I would object? Why should I? A gentleman in my bedroom-how handy. Perhaps you'll discover the cause of this chimney smoking when the wind is in the south. Or you might inves tigate the way the f loorboard creaks under the ward robe. Do you plan to stay indefinitely? I must inform you that I'm engaged to be married, and must leave you to your own devices if you're to be ensconced here after Boxing Day."
"I know you're engaged," he said, his voice going harsh and icy. "How could I not? You're the talk of the town."
Callie grew stiff. She turned away. "That is unkind."
She felt him come to her and stand close behind her. "I'm sorry." He touched her hair and slid his fingers down to her throat gently. "I'm sorry, Callie. For everything."
"Quite," she said, trembling. But she did not move away as she should have. "Do you never simply ring the bell and hand in a card?"
He put his arms round her and turned her toward him. "Are you all right?" He drew a breath against her hair and then passed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "God forgive me, I've done nothing but worry about you after what happened."
She clenched her hands together, pushing away. "If you mean, was there any unfortunate result, no," she said, turning her back to him. "I can confirm that. So you need not concern yourself about it further."
She wanted desperately to turn back and cry out her anger and bewilderment, that he was married, that he had let her fall in love with him all over again and never told her. But then she would have betrayed herself wholly. Between him and Major Sturgeon, what silly vestige of pride she had left had been lacer ated enough. The one thing she would never admit was that she hadn't known all along. While she stood frozen, aching with the loss of his touch, she heard him move away.
"It was simply a… a f ling out, is that what they call it now?" she said to the opposite wall. The steadiness of her own voice surprised her. "I suppose I'm not the sort of person one would expect to f ling, but really, one must have one's moment before marriage, don't you think? As the horses have a kick before they're put in harness."
The dull, rushing sound of the rain drummed on the windows. She forced herself to unclench her fingers and turn toward him. He stood looking out at the down pour. His profile was silhouetted against the window so that she couldn't see his expression in the dusky light. As she looked at the straight, brooding lines of his face, she bit her lip. She could not expel him into the rain, at the mercy of Runners and broadsides. But she had no intention of allowing him to see her true heart.
He looked at her sidelong. "Will it be a harness?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow. "Marriage to him?"
"Certainly not," she said instantly. "That was merely a figure of speech. Now that I've come to know him better, I believe that we shall be excessively happy together. He's developed the greatest admiration for me. He-" She searched quickly for some evidence of the major's affection. "He brings me any number of posies and is forever kissing my hand."
"I see," Trev said. She glared at him suspiciously, in case he should be inclined to laugh, but he main tained a perfectly sober countenance. "Very gallant of him."
"Yes, and he said it would be cruel of me if I wouldn't allow him to make an attempt to win my heart," she added, to seal her case. "Just now, in fact, in the carriage, he said so."
"Oh?" He turned to face her, his features darkened by the light behind. "Then it isn't won already?"
"Very near," she lied stoutly. "I believe I can come to love him."
He made a small, taut motion, something between a nod and a jerk of his chin.
"I'm sure that once we've begun our own family," she added, expanding on her theme, "we'll be excep tionally devoted."
"Doubtless," he said in a clipped voice. "I'm charmed by this vision of connubial bliss. I assure you that I'll do all in my power to stay out of sight, so that you may continue to enjoy his attentions to the full."
"I suppose you've bribed the servants?" she asked dryly.
"Of course."
Callie expelled a deep breath. "You may remain for the night." She pointed and then crossed her arms. "In the dressing room."
He walked away to the door of the adjacent closet. "Certainly. Just toss me a biscuit now and again, like the rest of the dogs."
Trev closed the door behind him with something just short of a bang. He stood in the small dressing room, contemplating his many options. He could sleep on the bare f loor, as he'd done the night before in his mother's room, or prop himself against the wall next to the chest of drawers, padded by a pillow of clean rags that were neatly folded in one corner-their use was uncertain, but he thought it likely she was more concerned to polish some heifer to a high sheen than to have her footwear buffed. For entertainment, he saw that he could avail himself of any number of books, starting with CATTLE: Being a Treatise on their BREEDS, MANAGEMENT, AND DISEASES, Comprising a FULL HISTORY OF THE VARIOUS RACES; Their Origin, Breeding and Merits; Their Capacity for Beef and Milk; The Nature and Treatment of Their Diseases; THE WHOLE FORMING A COMPLETE GUIDE for the FARMER, THE AMATEUR, and VETERINARY SURGEON, with 100 illustrations. If that didn't put him to sleep, he could turn to THE COMPLETE GRAZIER, or Farmer's and Cattle Breeder's and Dealer's Assistant, and get an overview of neat cattle, sheep, horses, and swine, the present state of the wool trade, and an appendix on Prize Cattle, Farm Accounts, and Other Subjects Connected with Agriculture, all courtesy of A Lincolnshire Grazier, assisted by Several Eminent Agriculturalists.