Masquerading The Marquess(18)

"Do you have this item?"

"I don’t know. I don’t know what the item is."

"Then why are you here?"

She visibly bristled. "Because you seem to be on my heels the past two days and I believe you are somehow involved in this situation."

"What makes you say that?"

He said it in a nonchalant way and expected her anger. He was not disappointed.

"Forgive me. I’m wasting my time here. Good day, my lord."

"Sit down, Miss Stafford," James ordered in the steely tone that generally caused people to do his bidding.

She turned toward him, a shocked look on her face. "What did you call me?"

He couldn’t tamp down the sardonic smile as he gestured toward her. "You forgot to not be yourself today."




***



A horrified look crossed her face as she grasped at her hair with one hand and her cheek with the other.

"Sit down. "

She obeyed this time, but he thought it more from the shock than anything else.

"I have known your identity for quite some time. But I am curious: What turned you from lady’s companion to courtesan, Miss Stafford? Surely you were not that down on your luck?"

Her initial shock had obviously subsided somewhat because she shot him an even nastier look than before. She gazed around the room’s elegant furnishings. "I doubt someone such as yourself would understand what the peasants of this world have to go through on a daily basis. Please, don’t lower my opinion of you any more by asking such inane questions."

His temper flared. "You are a silly girl. I doubt you know what true hardship is."

She seemed to withdraw and sat staring mutely ahead.

He tried to rein in his temper. He had magnificent self-control. Everyone knew it. Why did she always incite him?

He said in a more reasonable tone, "If you want my help, I need to see the note."

She continued to stare at him, not speaking.

"You are involved in a dangerous matter. Give me the damn note."

Her eyes flashed. "I don’t want your help. I want answers."

"Sorry, Margaret, you cannot have one without the other."

From the look she was now giving him he wouldn’t have been surprised if she launched herself across the desk, fingernails aimed toward his eyes.

"First, I have not given you permission to call me Margaret. Second, you can go to hell, my lord." She grated the " my lord" between her teeth and he wondered if she might choke on it.

As she rose, her deep blue eyes flashed in rage. "Good day, my lord."

She turned her back on him and started for the door, wobbling for a second before gaining her footing. James was around the desk in a flash. He firmly took her left arm and escorted her to the door of the study, ignoring her angry gasp. He let go at the door, allowing her to find her own way out.

James pulled the cord moments after she stalked out of the room, and Templeton’s face appeared in the doorway scant seconds later. He must have run.

"Have one of the footmen follow the lady and report back to me."

Templeton nodded and closed the door behind him.

James leaned against his desk. He had handled that poorly. Women usually fell over themselves trying vainly to please him. It was quite a novel experience to find one so disagreeable. She hadn’t softened any since their first meeting.

Actually she had felt remarkably soft leaning into him last night. James shook his head.

He had been unable to glean any hard information from last night’s attacker. After putting the ladies in the coach, he had returned to the maze to interrogate the hoodlum and relieve a bit of frustration. The man admitted under duress that he had been hired by a bloke to do a few jobs. He had received money to scare the girl and inquire about an object. When given the job he had not asked any questions.

After receiving a bit more abuse from a frustrated James, the man revealed he only heard the man’s voice once and that further instructions and payoffs were given through a third party, a man named Curdle. The only real information James had gathered about the leader’s identity was, "He sounded real uppity, like you."

James had sent Finn to find Curdle. Hopefully, Curdle would lead them to the unknown man and eventually to Stephen.

James unfolded the threatening note, which he had removed from her left pocket. She was hard-headed and stubborn. He needed to discover if she was scheming as well.




* * *



Calliope waited until she had closed the door to Stephen’s study before audibly giving in to her rage. She didn’t feel any better afterward. She collapsed against the door and a wave of despair drowned her anger. She had been living from one emotion to another for the past two days. And she seemed to be making one bad choice after another. Had she hoped he would help her without any information in return?

Calliope walked to the desk and dropped wearily into her chair, putting her head on her arms. She was ready to give in to a well-deserved cry when she heard a rap on the front door. Calliope heard Grimmond greet the interloper and wished she had told him she was unavailable. She would remedy that when he came to inform her of the guest.

.

The door opened but she didn’t look up. "Grimmond, I’m unavailable. Please inform whomever it is to leave a card."

"I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that."

Her head popped up as Angelford walked toward her desk.

"I have a proposition for you."





Chapter 6




Calliope rallied her last defenses. She thrust back her head and gazed at him scornfully.

"How dare you be so insensitive? Your so-called friend is missing, my lord. There’s no funeral for him, yet you poach on his territory."

His eyes narrowed dangerously and a shiver of fear sliced through her. Perhaps she had gone too far.

"I’ll make allowances for your state of mind, but make a similar mistake again, and you will not enjoy the consequences."

Angelford didn’t wait for her response, but continued in a deceptively mild tone of voice, "Threatening notes? You obviously have something they value. I propose we work together to figure out what they want and who they are. With luck it will lead us to Stephen."

He looked her over. "At the very least it would get you out of your present predicament."

Calliope gritted her teeth and enunciated succinctly and deliberately, "I don’t want your help anymore. Please leave."

Angelford ignored the demand, deposited himself lazily in a chair in front of her desk and crossed his ankle over his leg.

He was examining her so carefully she began to feel like one of the animals in the menagerie.

"But what about your family at the Adelphi-would they want my help?"

Cold dread descended upon her shoulders. The lilies in the room smelled funereal.

He pulled a paper from his pocket. "I read the note."

She stared at the vellum he held. It was the same note she had received earlier. "How?"

He shrugged unapologetically. "I lifted it from your pocket."

"What do you want?"

"First of all, Margaret Stafford doesn’t quite convert to 'Callie,' and neither does Esmerelda. What is your real name?"

Calliope’s shoulders stiffened. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

He folded his hands. "Do you really think it would take me long to ascertain your true identity? All I need to do is make a trip to the theater."

"I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. My name is Calliope Minton." She gritted her name out.

"Calliope. Yes, that’s more fitting," he said with a relish that confused her.

"Are we finished here, my lord?"

Angelford’s tone softened. "I want to find Stephen, regardless of what you may believe. He is a very close friend and I need your assistance. In return, I promise to protect you and yours."

It was one of the reasons she had visited him. She needed his help. She felt her shoulders droop and she nodded. She’d do anything to save her family.

If it were anyone else, she would have sworn a look of relief fleetingly crossed his features. But this was James Trenton, the great Marquess of Angelford. Did anything not go his way?

A lock of hair fell in front of his eyes. He pushed it back. "Let’s put aside personal questions for now, shall we, Miss Minton?"

The lock of hair looked like it might disobey. Angelford suddenly seemed a bit more human, a bit less like a gorgeous avenging demon.

Calliope felt some of the tension drain from her muscles. "Yes."

"Good. Pardon me for a minute and I will have Finn set up some security at the Adelphi. Who would be targeted in particular?"

The admission was hard. "The Daly family. "

He nodded and walked to the door. Finn must have been standing just outside, because Angelford whispered something around the corner and then shut the door once more.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

He was in her study, offering her refreshment?

"Black tea would be wonderful." Calliope crossed her ankles and waited.

Angelford didn’t disappoint. He pulled the cord and waited for her butler to appear. "Grimmond? Black tea, please, and Cook’s lemon squares."

"Very well, my lord." Grimmond turned and quit the room.

"Do you always demand service in other people’s houses?" she asked.

"Ah, but Grimmond has known me since I was in britches."