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.
"My lord, no… " Her voice came out breathy and foreign to her ears.
James reached for her and she felt herself swaying toward him, tipping her chin back to look in his eyes. He rubbed his thumb across her lips, and then bent down, two inches, one inch. She rose slightly off the floor. His hand travelled down her arm. Her eyes started to close.
Air. It was the only thing touching her. She r opened her eyes and saw his retreating back, the extra blanket that had been covering the bed in his hand.
Calliope’s jaw sagged slightly.
"I will leave at daybreak. The servants will be up and about and you will be perfectly safe."
He dropped onto the settee, his long legs hanging off the end. It had to be uncomfortable, but he didn’t make a peep.
She was outraged. Calliope stomped to the wardrobe and withdrew her nightclothes.
She looked over at him, but his back was to her.
She changed her clothes with difficulty, not ringing for Betsy. She watched to see if he peeked. He didn’t. And there was no offer of help.
Calliope’s teeth gnashed together. She should be relieved. Instead, she was confused and irritated. And she couldn’t explain any of it.
Slipping under the covers, she stared at the ceiling.
She was still staring at the ceiling when he rose and quietly left the room at dawn, as promised.
Chapter 10
What a terrible night.
Every muscle in his body ached. Between the lumps in the settee and his overactive libido, he was certain he hadn’t slept a wink. Calliope had set the terms of their relationship and he had abided by them. Yet she had slammed the wardrobe and acted like a mad bee that had lost its honey. He knew she had slept as poorly as he-her breathing had never gained the even wave of someone comfortably settled. Sometimes he didn’t understand the fairer sex.