He placed Lady Flanders’s wandering hand on his arm and followed in the footsteps of Pettigrew.
James looked thoughtfully at the retreating couple.
"Where is her husband?" Calliope muttered.
James smiled. His eyes lit with mischief and her breath caught. He was devastating when he smiled.
"Penelope and Flanders don’t keep a tight rein on each other. He no doubt is enjoying the company of his latest peccadillo. Each has an insatiable appetite for variety and numbers, much like the Pettigrews. I must say she has damnable timing, however. "
"l wonder what Roth was going to say. "
"I don’t know, but maybe we should begin our search in his room."
Curdle crept silently down the long hall, hesitating every so often as he heard voices.
Things were becoming increasingly more difficult. And he didn’t like this latest turn of events.
Someone had spilled his guts and now Angelford’s hellhound was nipping closely at his heels. It had taken all of Curdle’s considerable talent to elude the man these past few nights.
He would have a long talk with his employer about this inconvenience.
Curdle cracked his knuckles menacingly and proceeded to his employer’s room.
Task accomplished.
Confirmation given.
At last his reward was close at hand.
"I never expected Roth to be so fastidious. Appearance is one thing, one’s personal space another."
James closed the door silently behind them and they returned to Calliope’s room to fetch her wrap. During the search of Roth’s room, they had gained nothing but confirmation that the man was single-minded in all of his habits.
Calliope opened her door. "He is very mysterious, is he not?"
James frowned. "I don’t think Roth is all tha-"
He bumped into her back. She had stopped dead in the doorway.
"James, something is wrong. Someone has been here."
He moved around her and searched the armoire and under the bed, the only two available hiding places in the room. "Are you certain it was not just your maid tidying things?"
"No, it’s not that."
"Is anything missing?"
Calliope was already looking through her things. "No, I don’t believe so, it’s more a feeling."
She was staring anxiously at the door and window.
"We’ll both stay here or in my room."
Relief and alarm warred on her face. "Perhaps I’m just a bit edgy because of Pettigrew’s study. "
"If anyone sees me leaving your room in the morning, it will lend credence to our relationship. As long as no one sees me on the sofa, that is. Now, here’s your shawl, let’s try Pettigrew’s chambers."
The suite was as far away from their rooms as one could get in the huge manor. For the first time James grudgingly found himself admitting he was glad Calliope had accompanied him. If they were caught, their presence in any part of the house could be easily explained away as a lovers’ game.
They were in and out of his rooms quickly. Pettigrew’s rooms proved as fruitless as Roth’s. By the time they left his suite it was three o’clock in the morning. Because it was necessary to keep track of the guests, James and Calliope kept making appearances downstairs. The party was still in swing, but they noted several of the guests had retired.
"It’s going to be more difficult to conduct a search when we don’t know which rooms contain guests," James said.
They passed the card room, where a heated game was being played. Mr. Ternberry was wiping his brow. He appeared to be losing heavily.
"Ternberry is well known for his tenacity at trying to win his money back. Usually an unwise decision. So let’s search his room next. He will be preoccupied for at least an hour or two."
Calliope nodded and they headed toward the west wing where Ternberry’s room was located.
A laughing couple came down the hall and James put an arm around Calliope, pulling her close. He tipped her chin up and their lips met. A soft sound of surprise was swallowed as her body melted against his. The couple passed, but James didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Calliope’s hands snaked their way around his neck and she was leaning against him. He didn’t know who was hungrier, or why were they standing in the hallway when their rooms were just down the hall.
She tasted just like she smelled… a hint of lavender.
A door slammed closed and reality intruded. The thought was like a cold bucket of water.
James broke the kiss and looked down at Calliope. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open. Hell, he wanted to kiss her again, but they had dallied too long and time was running short.
"One of these times we won’t be interrupted, I promise."
James pulled her along in her slightly dazed state. Ternberry’s door was locked.
He withdrew a thin piece of metal from his pocket and worked on the mechanism. It clicked and a remarkably composed Calliope looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
They entered the room and found a mess. It was the opposite of Roth’s spartan and well-organized room. There was a certain irony in the situation, since the two men’s attitudes garnered contradictory impressions.
"This is going to take a while."
James had to agree. There were piles of papers on the floor and they agreed it was the best place to start. Paper after paper was discarded. Sifting through the papers together on the floor was uncomfortable. After that kiss, all James wanted to do was drag her back to her room.
Calliope finally held up a sheet of paper in triumph. "This is it, I recognize this sheet from Pettigrew’s study."
They bent their heads together. Unfortunately for James, her hair and skin smelled like the scent always surrounding her.
Forcing his traitorous mind back to the paper, he read the pertinent part aloud: " 'Something needs to be done about the Stephen Chalmers situation. Look into it right away and take the necessary action.'" It was unsigned, but a recognizable seal was embossed in the corner.
An icy stab flew through James. "This is from the Foreign Office."
What was this contract doing in Ternberry’s room?
Calliope looked at him. "What does it mean?"
"It could mean anything. It’s too cryptic."
She frowned in disappointment and picked up another sheet of paper.
"Looks like a birth certificate."
James took the offered sheet. It was a birth certificate for Edmund Henry Samuel Crane. The date listed was 1802. "That’s Holt’s son."
The clock struck four.
"Come, the time is late and we can’t risk discovery." He replaced the sheets and scattered the pile to resemble its former mess.
James grabbed Calliope’s hand and when she didn’t protest, he pulled her to the door. Peeking outside, he pulled back as a scantily clad woman ran from one room to another, knocking softly on the door. Another glance showed a man buttoning his trousers as he sauntered to a room a few doors away.
Calliope was attempting to peer over his shoulder but he held her back, breathing a sigh of relief when the traffic in the hallway momentarily halted. He locked the door and tugged her outside. They ran down the few steps to her room and fell inside.
Calliope started laughing uncontrollably. "It’s like musical doors around here."
James felt a tug at his own lips. "Yes, house parties can be like that. Luckily we don’t have to play that game."
Calliope’s laughter died as she saw the expression on his face. A fire slowly built. "No, I think that might be a bad idea. I believe we both should retire now. We can talk in the morning."
He didn’t move for a moment and she held her breath thinking he might ignore the entreaty. A part of her wished he would. She tried to tamp the thought down but it wouldn’t desist.
He moved toward her, toward the bed. Her breathing became erratic.