Her voice came out a little more shrill than usual. "What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to frighten me to death?"
"The next time you want to do harm, might I suggest you employ the second technique first? Sidestepping an unseen jab is more difficult than catching a falling object."
Her heart started to beat at regular intervals again and her initial relief gave way to anger. "And might I suggest that simply calling out a greeting or knocking at the door, which is the proper way to enter one’s house, might save us both the trouble?" She caught her breath and puckered her brow. "Why are you here in the first place?"
He ignored her question and looked around her room. "Going somewhere?"
She resisted the urge to bean him with the cane, not that she would succeed in inflicting any damage to his stone head. "That is none of your business. I repeat, why are you here?"
"Where is Stephen?"
She threw out her hands. "I don’t know. He’s not here."
Angelford remained silent, but his narrowed eyes continued to scan the room. Her emotions were so riled she couldn’t quite separate all the feelings, but she recognized irritation. She jerked the coverlet on the bed. "Not here." She stomped over to the closet and yanked it open. Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Not here either. "
He walked over to a chair and sat. She couldn’t credit his gall but decided humoring him a bit might speed up his late, uninvited visit.
"Would you like some tea, my lord? Crumpets, cakes, sandwiches?"
She thought she might have seen the beginnings of a smile, but it was a fleeting impression.
"I need to find Stephen as quickly as possible. Your help would be greatly appreciated." His voice was soft but direct, a voice used to being obeyed.
Calliope was suddenly weary. "My lord, Stephen was supposed to arrive here at nine but hasn’t shown. l don’t know where he is, and quite frankly I’m worried."
James surveyed the room. "Why are you packing?"
Calliope couldn’t explain the irrational drive to leave the house as soon as possible. "It seemed a good idea."
James strode to the window and looked out at the street. "Have you had any other visitors tonight?"
.
"No, you are the only unwanted guest this evening."
This time she was sure she caught a brief glimpse of a smile.
"Where is your staff?"
"I gave them the evening off. "
He frowned. "Then I will leave my man with you. Don’t be so foolish again."
He strode from the room, forcing her to run to catch him. "Excuse me? I didn’t ask for your assistance or advice. So you can take 'your man' with you."
He ignored her, and she felt like a small dog nipping at the heels of a mastiff. They reached the front hall. A giant of a man with a scar running down the left side of his face stood at the entrance.
"Finn, stay with-" He looked back at her."-Miss Esmerelda tonight."
She sputtered as he walked out the door.
Calliope looked at the burly man who strongly resembled a tree trunk. "I don’t suppose I can convince you to leave?"
Finn’s only response was a raised brow.
The weight she had carried since nine o’clock lifted from her shoulders. Damn Angelford. She shook her head. "Well, might as well get you settled. Would you like something to eat?"
Curdle swore.
He had just managed to melt back into the shadows when the carriage arrived. A fancy and a bruiser had gone inside. Only the fancy had come out. He decided to leave the bruiser unchallenged for the lady and the ring. Patience was not his strong suit, but he would not be able to secure help tonight.
There would be another time.
Soon.
James poured two fingers of scotch and settled into his favorite leather chair. He frowned and took a drink. He had been vaguely uneasy all night, sensing something was wrong. He had been at the club half-heartedly taking money from the other card players when Stephen’s cryptic note appeared. James’s senses had gone on alert.
James had quit the table and headed straight for Stephen’s townhouse. The butler had reported that Stephen had left at noon and had not returned. James then headed to Stephen’s second townhouse, the one currently inhabited by that exasperating girl. The frantic look on her features had inflamed his own alarm.
James examined Stephen’s note. Unlike his usual small, neat script, the handwriting was large and appeared hastily scrawled:
Come to the house. Matter of utmost urgency.
It was common for Stephen to disappear into the night; as one of England ’s best spies he was often called to action. But never like this. Not after leaving a note calling to meet. James was worried. The two of them had fought back-to-back day after day as new recruits in the Peninsular Campaign, saved one another on several occasions and developed a sixth sense when something wasn’t quite right with the other. Although the last few years had seen them in separate assignments, the sense had never faltered.
Where did the girl fit into this mess? An image of her with her hands on her hips, staring at him defiantly in naught but her shift flashed in his mind. His body responded and he ruthlessly pushed the image aside.
She had shown up with Stephen right after he returned from his last mission. James knew she had haunted the ton as a lady’s companion, but why? What secrets did she possess? What did she know?
And where in hell was Stephen?
He hadn’t talked to Stephen as much as usual in the past few weeks because of the girl. He was alternately trying to avoid and nettle her and it was hard to do either when Stephen was around. It was a damn inconvenient time to need information from him.
The girl appeared as concerned and agitated as he. She was a hell of an actress if she was directly involved. His instincts told him her distress was real.
James had left Finn with her as much for her protection as to make sure she didn’t escape.
Tomorrow he would have answers.
Chapter 5
Calliope woke at daybreak. Gray light sifted around the drapery panels, casting ghostly patterns on the floor and walls. She pulled the heavy damask fabric aside, and peered across the manicured lawn and into the street. The neighborhood was silent. No birds chirped. The street seemed ominously empty.
Determined to reverse the uneasiness of the gloomy morning and her lingering thoughts from the night before, Calliope donned a bright morning dress and warm shawl. She arranged her wig, applied makeup and finished her toilette.
She headed downstairs to check on her new guard. Finn was in the sitting room to the left of the front door, his posture upright and alert, just as she had left him. Somehow Calliope wasn’t surprised.
"Good morning, Mr. Finn. Must have been tiring to maintain that position all night."
"Good morning, miss. You’re up rather early. "
"I don’t require much sleep and rather enjoy puttering around in the morning. You look like you could use something with a bit of a warm bite." Calliope nodded to him and left to fix breakfast. The servants had trickled in throughout the late evening and early morning hours, but they had taken her offer to sleep late.
Calliope rubbed her cold hands together. Baking was a treat for her, one she hadn’t been able to indulge in since moving into Stephen’s townhouse. The servants were suspicious enough without her usurping their duties.
She made her selections easily from the well-stocked larder. She laid a fire in the oven, brightening the room, but as she worked with the dough, an uncomfortable silence permeated the kitchen. Every sound echoed and was magnified.
Calliope forced a whistle, but it was nothing like the melodic tunes that came readily when the sun was shining and the air a cheery temperature.
She wished she had invited Finn to join her. She finished quickly. Relieved to vacate the empty kitchen, she carried a tray of warm scones, jam and hot tea into the sitting room. Finn helped himself. His greedy consumption left little doubt her fare was satisfactory.