Calliope’s mind went blank. She was nestled against him, and he had never once opened his eyes. For some reason, that irritated her.
She tried escaping by pulling toward the opposite seat. His arm was like a vise. But other than tightening his arm, he didn’t move.
His head lay against the seat. She peered around at him. She had been feeling out of sorts ever since finding herself curled against his side this morning. "My lord, I really don’t think this is dignified."
He gave no indication of having heard her.
"My lord?”
Nothing.
"Angelford?"
Silence.
"James!"
One eye opened.
"Don’t you think I should return to my own seat?"
"Shh, get some rest. You didn’t sleep last night any more than I."
For some reason, that made her feel infinitely better. She was exhausted. And it was more comfortable on this side of the carriage. Yes, if he was going to get the better side of the coach, it was only fair that he share. She closed her eyes and her head lolled onto his shoulder. The motion of the carriage was soothing. Warm and cozy dreams enveloped her and the nightmares ceased for once.
It was a brilliant summer day and she was strolling in a meadow. Flowers were blooming as far as the eye could see. James came toward her, a bright blue flower in his hand. She took it and inhaled the heavenly fragrance. It was like that spicy scent that clung to him. Strange, for a flower to smell that way.
But it was a beautiful bloom and the scent was manly, much better than the common fragrance of roses. He looked down at her with tenderness and bent his head. She would delude herself no longer. This was what she had been yearning for; every part of her said this was right. Her body thrummed and her breath caught as he leaned closer.
She sighed happily.
Unexpectedly, he jerked away.
"No!"
Calliope jolted awake as James moved his shoulder. He looked down at her. "No, what?"
The coach had stopped.
"Uh, nothing, just, uh, I was surprised we were there already."
How incredibly stupid.
He stared at her for a second and then exited the coach. He held up a hand to help her down.
The return to London was a jolt to her system. An ending almost. Quickly moving toward the door, she saw that her burly footmen were still in place. Thank goodness.
She frowned.
She had ceased to consider James the enemy and started thinking of him as her savior. Around the same time she had stopped thinking of him as Angelford.
More Angelford, less James. Now that they were back in London, that would be best.
They entered the library and he walked to her favorite chair. For once that was fine with Calliope. She sprawled on the brocade settee and shut her eyes.
"I thought we were going to search through Stephen’s things."
She opened an eye to see him staring at her superciliously. "Right. I’m just resting my eyes. How about ten minutes from now?"
He shook his head and she swore a smile flitted across his features.
"Fine, we’ll do it now instead."
A smile lit his eyes.
Calliope looked at the magnificent bookcases and sighed.
Twenty minutes later she was still sighing. James felt frustrated himself. Not only was he certain the object they were searching for was here in this room, but his response to Calliope was reaching a fever pitch.
She had removed her wig, and her soft curls caressed her shoulders.
He shook his head, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, and spied a walking stick resting against the wall. He picked up the smart mahogany and gold cane, recognizing it from the night she tried to brain him with it.
"A slight step up from the one you abandoned at the Killroys’ ball."
She looked up from a stack of papers and eyed the cane. "Did you find my cane at the Killroys’?"
"Yes. Imagine my surprise when you sailed back into the ballroom, graceful as can be."
Calliope flushed. "I don’t know what caused me to forget it."
"l thought we had determined you missed me."
She looked disgruntled. "You are a menace."
James smiled. "Do you need to use a cane at all?"
"Not often, just sometimes when I get tired-it makes it easier to move around."
She walked over and reluctantly plucked the stick from his hand. Her eyes were intense. "My mother left this with me. It was the last time I saw her. She thought she had enough time to run back into the burning house."
Sadness and pain darkened her face. The expression tore at him.
"Why did she run back?"
"She tried to save the documents my father left with her. I’ve always blamed him for her death."
She said it nonchalantly. They could have been discussing the weather, but her eyes were anything but calm.
"You’ve saved the cane all these years."
"Yes, I generally keep it close at hand, although I don’t use it. It’s a reminder. "
"Maybe it would ease the pain if you started thinking of the cane as just another object."
She was silent for a long minute.
James wasn’t sure what to do or say; the lost look on her face was making him crazy. He was about to take the offending object away from her when she became a whirlwind of motion.
She struck a fencing pose. A rather good fencing pose.
Astonishment pierced him. "You fence?"
"I was once a pirate at the Adelphi when one of the actors fell ill. I practiced other stances after that. It is rather a fun hobby. "
A pirate? "How many other roles have you played?"
She shrugged and jabbed toward his stomach with the blunt end of the cane. "I’ve filled in as needed. Small roles. Chorus parts, mainly. If one of the stars falls ill, an understudy steps in and sometimes I assume the smaller part. It’s actually rather fun. Performing is quite exhilarating. One doesn’t get noticed much in the chorus, so no stage fright."
Calliope was thrusting and parrying across the room. She lifted her left leg at the knee, balancing on her right leg. The cane was gripped in her right hand and perched horizontally over her head.
Two fingers on her left hand were pointed upward at the end of the cane. She then dropped the raised lingers to her right wrist and thrust her left hand and the cane away from each other in diagonal directions.
"What posture is that?" He was considered an expert swordsman, but he had never seen that particular move.
She looked at him in surprise. "I don’t know. An extra who returned from the Far East taught me that maneuver." She coughed discreetly. "Well, not exactly taught, but I secretly watched him practice enough times to learn."
James was intrigued. He moved toward her. "Do it again."
She repeated the movement.
He studied the move, trying to think of ways to incorporate the technique. "Shouldn’t the sword be pointed more at an angle for better entry?"
She sent him a dark look as he came closer. "Look here, I know what I saw. "
Calliope jabbed him in the side with the cane to emphasize her point. He scowled and pushed it aside. She twisted the handle to yank it back and it made a clicking noise.
"What the-" James stared down at his midsection.
Calliope followed his gaze and gasped when she saw bright red blossoming across his stark white shirt. The cane dropped to her side and she rushed to him. "My God, James, your shirt!"
James frowned at the cane and picked up the end. A sharp blade protruded from its tip. Calliope gasped and lifted his shirt. Blood seeped from the wound.
"Stand still. You’re hurt," she said, blanching as she inspected the wound.
"Luckily the bloody thing was too far away to do major damage. But I’d be most appreciative if you could stop trying to kill me with that thing."