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.