Masquerading The Marquess

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.

James threw the blanket on the floor and rose from the uncomfortable settee. Calliope finally appeared to be asleep. She was a small lump under the bedcovers. How to deal with her? She was the most skittish courtesan he had ever met. She acted like an outraged virgin, a category of women that he avoided like the plague. He wondered if she was even aware of the mixed signals she sent.

He had never needed to woo any woman, yet sometimes he felt that was precisely what he was doing with her.

James exited the room and quietly but firmly locked the door. He trudged across the hall to his room. His valet, Rogers, was waiting.

"I’m not in the mood for a long, drawn-out affair, Rogers. Let’s try to keep this to a minimum."

Rogers sniffed. He had probably spent an inordinate amount of time brushing James’s trousers and polishing his boots. Rogers liked to be appreciated, but James wasn’t in the mood.

After sending Rogers off in a snit, James walked down to breakfast trying to divine the workings of the female mind. Fortunately, Roth was the only one at the table.

"Good god, Angelford, you look awful. Wouldn’t have expected such a scowl after seeing you retire with Esmerelda." Roth looked positively cheerful. "I anticipated an expression of the cat stealing the canary, not such a woebegotten air."

James sent him a withering look and snatched a plate from a waiting servant, who scurried off.

He helped himself to the delicacies at the sideboard. " Did you tup the countess without trouble?"

Roth’s grin widened as he poked a sausage on his plate. "l did not, much to the dismay of Lady Flanders, who was hoping to enjoy an early celebration in honor of Lady Pettigrew’s birthday. Supposedly she’s inexhaustible. And while that’s an admirable trait, her other attributes don’t entice me into spending the requisite time."

James smiled. "I’m quite sure she was irritated, since she appeared ready to have you unwrap and sample her overly abundant charms." Roth was a font of information and James decided to use Roth’s knowledge to his advantage. "By the way, speaking of birthdays and gifts, Holt was talking about taking Edmund out for some debauchery now that he’s older. Can’t recall how old the lad is, but seems Holt thinks it will be amusing, what with his birthday approaching soon."

"Boy will be twenty. Time to join up, just like we did."

Two ladies sauntered in for an early breakfast, giving James no time to glean additional information from Roth. Considering Roth a suspect didn’t help his investigation. His instincts told him Roth had nothing to do with Stephen’s disappearance or Salisbury ’s death, but he was unable to rule him out yet.

Roth had always been deep cover and one of the country’s best agents. The betrayal of Salisbury screamed deep cover, and lately Roth had been acting more cryptic than usual. There had been a subtle, yet unmistakable withdrawal from public events. It was actually surprising he had shown up at Pettigrew’s. As soon as this investigation was over, James planned on having a long chat with his inscrutable friend and colleague.

But for now, he had the information he required. Roth’s unerring memory never mixed up facts. If he said Edmund was going to be twenty, then the birth certificate in Ternberry’s room didn’t make sense. According to the document, he was twenty-one.

Why would Ternberry possess a birth certificate for Holt’s son? True, he was Holt’s secretary, but if what James suspected was true, Holt wouldn’t entrust the certificate to anyone. In fact, the information might be something that Holt was willing to guard to the death.

Things were looking worse.

Calliope breezed into the room looking superb in a lemon morning gown. Swirls of delicate white lace edged the cuffs and hem, making her appear as light as a fairy.

"Roth, how lovely to see you this fine morning."

She didn’t so much as glance in James’s direction. She looked relaxed and refreshed and showered attention on Roth, ignoring James.

"What a beautiful weekend for Lady Pettigrew’s birthday. I’m certain the celebration she has planned will be creative. As birthdays go, I was thinking of attending Edmund Crane’s birthday celebration next week. That dashing boy will have the ladies at his feet. Why, he’s nearly what, twenty-one?"

Roth sent James a quizzical look. "Twenty, I believe."

James was ready to throttle her. Roth donned a thoughtful expression as Calliope rattled off some of the incessant banter that she used as part of her Esmerelda guise. She continued a diatribe about the ladies of the ton, regaling him with anecdotes and the latest gossip. But Roth was no fool. Social intrigue was second nature to him.

"By the by, have you seen Ternberry this morning? I remembered something I must tell him," she said.

"My dear, Ternberry would scoff at getting up before noon. There is to be a hunt and croquet later. He will likely rouse in time to ride."

"Oh, good. Well, I will leave you two gentlemen to your breakfast and see if Lady Pettigrew has stirred."

She breezed out of the room. Roth raised his brows at James. "Well, she certainly has energy and spirit this morning. What happened to you?"

James scowled and pushed his untouched plate aside. He didn’t reply as he rose to follow her. He was going to wring her beautiful neck.

A swirl of lemon skirts rounded the landing at the top of the stairs.

She was heading to her room.

He took the stairs two at a time. He heard a door close as he gained the top step. She had been moving quickly. Reaching her door, he knocked. There was no answer. A door opened down the hall and he heard a lady titter. He gritted his teeth. "Let me in."

Still no answer. "I swear I am going to-"

The door opened and Calliope stood, panic-stricken, tears in her eyes.

He stepped inside and closed the door. Softening his voice he said, "What’s wrong?"

She pointed to the bed. He followed her gaze and saw a slashed Adelphi Theatre playbill.

She threw herself into his arms. "I locked my door this morning while at breakfast. It was on the bed when I returned. I’m so relieved you stayed here last night."

James was suddenly glad for the uncomfortable, sleepless night.

"It’s merely a threat. Someone’s trying to scare you. If anything had happened to the Dalys, I’d already know. " He rubbed her arms. "Lock the door after me. Check to see if anything is missing. I’ll be back soon. If anyone enters the room before I return, scream."

James walked a few paces down the hall and knocked on Ternberry’s door. There was no answer. He turned the knob and was surprised it opened. The room was completely empty.

James headed for Pettigrew’s study.

Pettigrew motioned for him to enter. "Morning, Angelford, I expect you spent a pleasant evening. Delightful girl, Esmerelda. And quite talented?" The last was said as a question and Pettigrew had raised a brow.

"It was quite a night." James inclined his head. "I was hoping to speak with Ternberry this morning. Do you know where I might find him?"

"There was an urgent summons directing him to return to London. His valet relayed the message. Didn’t even see him myself. "

James swore internally, but kept his face calm. "Too bad, I’ll speak with him back in town. I heard there is a twist to the hunt. I’m quite looking forward to it."

"Good, good. Should be just the thing. The wife has plenty of entertainment planned for the day."

James finished the small talk and returned to Calliope’s room. He knocked on the door. "I’m back."

As she opened the door, the panicked look was still in evidence. "What are we going to do?"

We . Something warm washed through him. "Do you have a riding habit?"

She nodded.

"Good. I’ll wait in the hall while you change into your riding gear, and then escort you downstairs. We’re going to eat breakfast and converse with the other guests as if nothing unpleasant has occurred. You aren’t to stray from my side."

She nodded again. She must be terrified, to have agreed to that.

Betsy arrived minutes later to assist her. She changed quickly. The riding habit fit her well. All of those buttons would make the thing damn hard to remove. James caught hold of his thoughts and escorted her downstairs. Roth had left the breakfast room. They served themselves and sat down.

He was much hungrier than he’d been earlier and quickly devoured the sausage and biscuits. Calliope was pushing the food around her plate.

"Eat your eggs or you aren’t leaving this house."

A defiant light appeared in her eyes but she ate the eggs. Some of her spirit was returning.

Many of the guests were up and about by the time they pushed away from the table and headed toward the stables.

Guests milled about the yard, some conversing and others waiting for their horses to be saddled. James and Calliope walked into the stable and over to the stalls holding the two horses James had brought from London.

"This is Apollo and the mare is Damsel."

"Apollo?" She smirked over some secret thought as she brushed a hand along Damsel’s smooth neck.

He was about to demand to know what she was thinking when she turned the full force of her smile on him. He forgot what day it was.

"Are you participating in the hunt today?"

Yes, that was why he had come here, he remembered now. "Do you know how to ride?"

"No. I never thought I’d actually use the riding habit." Her voice was wistful.

James pointed to a stable lad. "Saddle these two horses."

The lad jumped up and ran to the tack room.

Calliope chewed on her lip. "I don’t know if this is a good idea, James. I don’t mind staying at the house. It’ll be safe in the common rooms."

The same warm feeling rushed through him at her use of his name.

"Where’s your sense of adventure? And how are we ever going to win the hunt if you aren’t on horseback?"

She grinned widely.

The lad had the horses saddled and in the yard quickly. James helped Calliope into the saddle.

"It’s rather higher than I thought."

She sat awkwardly with her legs to the left side and almost slid off the horse.

James observed her for a moment and then looked to the stable lad. The lad nodded.

James grabbed Calliope and pulled her down. The lad led Damsel back into the stable.

"I know I can do better. " Her voice was laced with disappointment. She thought he had changed his mind.

The lad re-emerged minutes later with a different saddle cinched on Damsel’s back. James hauled her back onto the horse. Calliope looked disgruntled. "A little communication would be a good thing."

James dismissed the lad. "One of the keys to riding side-saddle is the saddle itself. Needs to fit both the rider and the horse. The last saddle was too small for you. You have lovely long legs."

Calliope blushed and inspected the saddle beneath her. She looked to the left and right, and then patted the horse’s head.

"Don’t lean. Sit up straight. Don’t sit back. Balance on the center. Good."

Calliope looked like a marionette, jerking back and forth as he gave commands. She gave him an irritated glance, but the color was high in her cheeks and the horse was already interpreting her movements, excited to be off.

"If we were alone, I’d teach you to ride astride. However, some of the ladies would probably slip off their horses into a faint, so you are stuck side-saddle for today. " He grinned.

A light appeared in her eye and James had the odd feeling she was trying to record his exact words.

James gave her rudimentary instructions on controlling her mount and she started to look more comfortable, her back straight, her right foot relaxed. She looked natural in the saddle.

They walked across the yard and he steered her to a path leading into the sun-dappled woods.

"This is my favorite trail on Pettigrew’s estate. It’s a roundabout way to get to the lake. We can meander and maybe do some cantering so you can get the feel for Damsel’s stride."

He looked back. Her eyes were big and she had a dazed smile on her face. It pleased him.

It was a canopy trail, the sunlight mildly pierced the trees here and there, but the feel of the forest was all-encompassing. Unidentified foliage was dripping from every corner. Stephen was the green thumb, the one who always explained the assorted flora…

"Oh, look!"

He pushed aside the direction of his thoughts and turned to see her pointing at a leggy fox scampering into the trees. Hadn’t she ever been out of the city?

They rode for a while in silence, enjoying the trail. As the path widened, she nudged Damsel and shot past him, laughing in delight. She looked like a woodland fairy. He wished she didn’t have the damn wig on, or the bonnet perched on top. The thought of her hair loose and flowing freely down her back was enough to make him shift uncomfortably on Apollo.

The trail was wide enough for two and he caught up and rode alongside her. The path led across a bubbling brook and through an open field. He pointed to different animals and birds, their legs brushing, her happily bemused expression invoking feelings he thought long dead.

Their ride ended at the lake. All of the trails eventually wound to the lake. Guests were gathering for the games. He could see people walking from the house to join them, although they were far enough away to be unidentifiable.

Lady Flanders cantered over. She was a skillful rider and always made the most of her riding habit, matching it to her mount and tack. James found he preferred Calliope’s lack of affectation and pure enjoyment.

"Angelford. I was disappointed in you last night. Perhaps you will be up for more entertainment tonight?"

" Perhaps. "

She smiled and opened her mouth to say more when their host interrupted.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please gather ‘round."

Pettigrew was in the gazebo motioning for everyone to join him.

"Lady Pettigrew has developed a twist for today’s hunt. It is to be a treasure hunt so that the ladies can participate. You will receive your first clue here. In groups of two, you will unravel the clue and proceed to the station revealed in the puzzle. At each station you will be required to successfully complete a task before receiving your next clue. Detailed maps of the grounds will be given to each pair."

"This sounds like fun." Calliope smiled at him.

Lady Flanders looked down her nose. "I would. I have much preferred the original fox hunt, but since the Pettigrews are bound and determined to play these little games, I think it only proper we form teams. Angelford, you and I-"

"Penelope, I believe your husband is motioning to you."

Her lips tightened, and she turned to see Flanders indeed motioning from the other side of the gazebo. She gave James a determined smile. "I will talk to you at the finish line, dear."

Calliope muttered but her face remained excited as Pettigrew pointed to the croquet sets on the lawn. "One person from each team will play. Once your ball passes through each of the wickets, you and your partner will gain possession of your first clue."

James played for their team, and Calliope cheered loudly as he finished first. Pettigrew handed Calliope a packet of instructions as soon as James’s ball cleared the last wicket.

"Angelford, Esmerelda, here is your map and first clue. Have a good time and try not to lose your way." Pettigrew winked suggestively.

Calliope read the clue aloud. "It’s a riddle, James. ‘Crumble and fall, prayers of old. Find the flame, fight the cold.’ "

"The old abbey. Let’s go."

She sprinted to Damsel. James hoisted her into the saddle and they were off. They raced to the abbey hidden in a copse of trees, dismounted and hurried inside the collapsing facade. Two servants awaited them. One smiled and lit a candle. "My lord, one of you will need to balance on the log while not spilling a drop of wax from this taper. Otherwise you must begin anew. "

"I’ll do it," Calliope volunteered.

She gingerly took the candle and mounted an ancient ceiling beam that had fallen to the floor. Moving one foot after another, she gracefully crossed the beam. As she reached the other side, a smile wreathed her face. "Done!"

The servant nodded and handed them a sheet of paper. Another pair of participants ran into the abbey as James and Calliope rushed to their horses.

"Another riddle," Calliope said, bouncing up and down. " ‘The sweet bloom of a maiden fair. Pluck one for your lady’s hair.’ "

"Lady Pettigrew’s rose garden. "

They set off. A series of six additional stops led them to the maze, the kitchens, the stable, a copse of trees in the shape of a hand, the carriage house and the conservatory. The last clue sent them galloping back to the lake. Calliope was so eager to be the first team back that her wig was in danger of falling off. She had thrown herself aggressively into the challenges. And she had acquitted herself adequately as a new horsewoman, if a bit enthusiastic.

"Hurry up, you’re slowing us down," Calliope yelled over her shoulder.

James threw his head back and laughed. He hadn’t had this much fun in, well, forever.

They galloped back to the lake but other couples were already milling about. One couple was arguing with Pettigrew.

"We lost it on the way-you can’t penalize us for that!"

" How many servants were at the maze station?"

"Two."

"Wrong, three."

The couple stalked away from Pettigrew, muttering under their breath.

"Ah, Angelford and Esmerelda. Do you have your clues?"

They dismounted and left the horses with the others that were grazing. Pettigrew hadn’t mentioned keeping the clues, but Calliope had retained each one, refusing to toss them on the ground.

Calliope handed them to Pettigrew, who examined each before proclaiming, "You are the winners. A few other teams tried to claim the title without actually completing the course." Pettigrew scowled at the other couples. " Congratulations, here is your prize. Ah, it looks like the second- and third-place finishers are right behind you. Please excuse me, I need to get their prizes."

He handed them two boxes. Calliope opened the first and her mouth dropped. James peeked over her shoulder and saw a ruby necklace. She opened the other box to find matching earrings.

She sputtered. "What… how…"

James raised an eyebrow. "A courtesan wouldn’t be impressed with those baubles, my dear."

Her mouth snapped shut and she closed the boxes.

"Yes, they are pretty little things." Her voice had turned haughty. He grinned at her and she looked disgruntled.

The rest of the participants slowly drifted back and everyone was enjoying the sandwiches and wine brought by the servants. The guests were chatting and sitting by the lake.

Roth wandered over. "Heard you two won."

.

James cocked an eyebrow. "Expected some competition from you, but didn’t come across you once on the course."

Roth looked unperturbed. "Lady Willoughby and I stayed close to the lake. We decided to forgo the hunt."

Calliope tugged on James’s coat. "If you don’t mind, I think I’m ready to go back. My legs feel like they’ve been molded around a banister."

James and Roth both smiled. "I think I’ll ride back with you," Roth said. James followed as they walked to fetch their mounts. A number of people were milling near the horses and examining the animals. One man touched Apollo’s forelock. Apollo nickered and moved away. James tamped his irritation.

Calliope gathered Damsel’s reins and led her to James for a boost. He lifted her, and as she smoothed her skirts, Damsel fidgeted and tossed her neck.

Calliope leaned forward to soothe the restless horse and Damsel went wild. James reached forward to grab the reins, but horse and rider were off. Damsel was jerking and Calliope was hanging on for dear life, form forgotten. James vaulted onto Apollo and raced after her. Roth did likewise. Damsel galloped into the trees, yanking left, then right. James and Roth entered the copse seconds behind.

Damsel slowed and thrashed wildly. If he could just get a little closer…

Calliope flew from Damsel’s back, landing roughly at the base of a giant oak. Damsel threw her head back and galloped down the path.

James jumped off Apollo and ran to Calliope’s still form. Terror and despair coursed through his body. He had lost more than one friend in riding accidents. What had he been thinking, letting her ride? Roth dismounted and joined him at her side. James felt her head and she groaned. Relief washed over him as he pictured a totally different outcome.

Roth stood up. "I’ll get the horse. " He remounted and rode into the trees.

"Ow, stop that. " Her eyes opened and she frowned.

"What happened? " James asked.

"That wasn’t my most graceful exit."

"Are you hurt?"

"I would have been, sooner rather than later, I think. Why did Damsel react that way? I thought she liked me." Calliope looked more hurt by the horse’s betrayal than by landing on the ground.

She sat up and winced. "I think I might rest a bit, if you don’t mind."

Mind? She wasn’t going to be given a choice. "Do you think you can stand?"

She nodded. He picked her up and gently put her on her feet.

"I can walk. I’m just a little bruised. I think my confidence is a bit bruised as well."

James let her walk around, seeing nothing broken, and then picked her up and set her on Apollo’s back.

Roth returned with a grim look on his face. "Check the saddle."

James didn’t need to uncinch the saddle. He followed the trail of blood to the burrs that had been shoved underneath the leather. Someone would know an inexperienced rider was sure to lean forward trying to find her seat. The culprit would not even have to remove the saddle for the damage to be done. Rage filled him. Calliope could have died.

"Could have been done anytime at the lake. The question is, why?" Roth asked.

"What are you two talking about?" Calliope inquired.

Roth looked from one to the other. James wished he knew what the man was thinking. He was always so bloody hard to read.

"Fine, keep your secrets, but gentlemen, do you think we can head back now?" Her voice was dulled by pain.

James mounted behind her, his rage simmering beneath the surface. He enveloped her in his arms and she immediately relaxed against him.

Pettigrew and a few of the other guests burst into the trees. They had to bring their horses up short before colliding with them.

"What happened? Is Esmerelda all right?" Pettigrew looked concerned.

"Yes, a bit shaken but otherwise unharmed. We are returning to the house."

"Of course. I’ll come with you. Can’t leave an injured guest."

They rode back to the stables. James kept up a quick pace, holding Calliope carefully in his arms, and trying to avoid Pettigrew’s questions.

They arrived at the stables. James lowered Calliope into Roth’s arms, jumped down and reached for Damsel’s reins. Pettigrew dismounted and hurried over. He saw the blood and investigated the saddle.

"Tanner!"

The head groom ran out of the stable. "Yes, my lord?"

"What is the meaning of this? Who put the saddle on this horse? Someone is not doing his job properly!" Pettigrew continued to yell at the groom. "One of my guests could have been killed! I will have someone’s head. Yours if no one else’s!"

Pettigrew was overdoing the outrage. He could have been convincing with a bit less fervor. He stomped off to the manor.

James walked over to the abashed groom. "I know you and your staff didn’t have anything to do with the accident. I will speak with Pettigrew. Here is my card. If you or anyone else is turned out as a result of this incident, go to this address and ask for Stubbins. If you could take care of Damsel’s injuries, I’d appreciate it."

"Thank you, my lord." The groom’s eyes regained a spark of life. He wiped a hand over his brow, took Damsel’s and Apollo’s reins and hurried inside.

Calliope was leaning against Roth. She looked at James strangely, and nodded approvingly.

James gently lifted her and carried her into the house.

Calliope rested a cold cheek against his shoulder. Roth was keeping up with the quick pace he had set.

"Roth, would you send Esmerelda’s maid, Betsy, to her room with some hot tea and a warming pan?"

He nodded. "Think I’ll have a talk with Pettigrew too."

James frowned and nodded in return. There was nothing he could do about Roth now. He’d have to talk with him later.

"Lord Pettigrew certainly seemed upset," Calliope mumbled against his chest.

"Yes, we’ll have to keep a closer eye on him."

She tilted her head back, her face only inches from his. "Wasn’t he just expressing concern as a host?"

"Shh. We’ll talk when we reach your room."

She tucked her head into his shoulder. Her body was beginning to feel warmer. That was a good sign.

He unlocked her room and set her down on the bed. "Remove your riding habit. You’ll feel better after a nap."

She frowned. "No, I’m going to have tea. You just sent Roth for some."

"Change your clothes and get under the covers, or I’ll do it for you."

Her face assumed the disgruntled look she was so fond of, but she must have read his intent, because she hurriedly changed while James walked to the window overlooking one of the gardens. He could see her out of the corner of his eye.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Enter."

Calliope’s maid placed the tea tray on the table and lit a fire in the fireplace. James’s body was heating the room better than a fire, but the added heat couldn’t hurt.

The maid left and Calliope padded to the tray. Her feet were bare.

"Get in bed." His voice was a bit raw.

She looked like she was going to argue but padded to the bed and crawled under the covers, militantly thumping her hands down on the soft coverlet.

James poured two cups of tea and brought one to her. He sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her to scoot inward or be crushed. She gave him a dark look and took the cup.

"Did you see anyone near Damsel? Someone put burrs under her saddle," he said.

Calliope put the cup down and her gaze turned thoughtful. "There were men poking Apollo right before we remounted."

James nodded. "I wasn’t paying as close attention as I should have." He had been watching Calliope and soaking up her pleasure.

"What should we do?"

"I don’t think there is much we can do at this point. I will have a look around the lake, but whoever did this is probably long gone. And the evidence with him."

"Come back as soon as you are finished."

He nodded. "I will send your maid back up. She will keep people away."

He walked out and Calliope’s maid was walking toward him with Roth. Yes, Roth knew a bit too much, as usual.

James gave the maid strict instructions and she disappeared inside. Roth studied him, waiting.

"I’m going to the lake. Would you like to join me?"

Roth nodded and they walked back to the stables.

Only after they entered the trail to the lake did Roth speak. "You have secrets. I have secrets. Esmerelda seems to have many. Let’s only speak of today. Something foul is afoot. Be careful."

He could trust Roth. He felt it. He should tell him the entire tale. But something held him back.

" Agreed. You didn’t happen to see anyone around the horses before we left, did you?"

Roth nodded. "Half of the party ventured past, including servants. Even Lady Flanders. I don’t have to warn you not to underestimate her."

"No, you don’t."

They discussed the rest of the members of the party until they reached the lake. Most of the guests had joined in one of the other afternoon pursuits.

A movement caught his attention. A small man stood far off in the trees. The hairs on James’s neck started tingling. The man hadn’t the look of a servant. Roth was staring at the man as well. They rode to the spot but the man had disappeared. It was the same copse of trees into which Damsel had dashed.

Searching the grounds turned up nothing and they returned to the house two hours later.

James headed for Calliope’s room. Roth put a hand on his arm.

"James, don’t overlook anyone." James nodded and Roth turned and strode down the hall.

The maid let him in and he instructed her to return in a few hours. Calliope was sleeping, one hand curled under her chin. He pulled up a chair and sat down to wait until dinner.

The maid had left some old papers for him to read. He flipped through one. He had already read this paper some weeks before. A caricature popped from the page. He remembered this set of cartoons clearly. They were illustrated by Thomas Landes and James had kept track of the artist’s work.

The first one depicted a debutante, who bore a striking resemblance to Sarah Jones, talking to a wilting fern as several gentlemen tiptoed away. Her vacant expression and uplifted nose prevented her from seeing her escaping prey.

The second was of a debutante with large blond curls-probably Cecelia Dort. A rag was tied around her mouth, preventing her from speaking. These were some of Landes’s tamer drawings. The man had a cruel streak at times.

Some of his recent ones had been political in nature. Landes must have been in attendance at Parliament to be able to accurately detail those. James would have to pay close attention to the gentlemen present during the next session.

Had Calliope seen these? He’d show them to her when she woke. She would probably enjoy the one of Cecelia.

He shook his head but couldn’t stop grinning. He remembered the shocked look on Cecelia’s face when Calliope verbally hammered her. What a spirited nymph Calliope was.

She had been a wood sprite today, bouncing in the saddle and having a great time. Her laughing face would linger in his mind for some time. He couldn’t remember ever having more fun with a woman. With practice she would make a fine horsewoman.

He sobered as he tried to force a piece of the puzzle into a spot too small for it to fit. It made sense for someone to be after Calliope. Her connection to Salisbury drew her in tightly.

But the lake area had been crowded. Why would someone risk being unmasked? The act smacked of desperation.

Who had put the burrs under the saddle, and why?