Masquerading the Marquess (16 page)

She was shocked speechless and allowed him to pull her into the theater.

As they ascended the stairs, she automatically moved toward Stephen’s box. James guided her farther along. "That is Stephen’s box. We are going to mine."

Angelford’s box was in the front of the first balcony.
The premier seats.
She resisted the urge to pinch him as he removed the wrap from her shoulders and settled into a seat across from her. The lorgnettes in the room focused on them and she managed a beatific smile and turned to Angelford. He raised his eyebrows in faint surprise.

"What a wonderful box you have, my lord."

Only Angelford would know she was not being genuine.

He smiled. "Only the best, my dear
. "

She looked around the box. "How did you come by it?"

"The usual way.
I inherited it."

"Ah, generations of Angelfords have graced these seats?"

"No, my father bought it while wooing my mother. He was trying to make a good impression."

The tone of his voice had changed slightly but she was too busy examining the new scenery to pay it heed. "Oh, I do love it when men try to buy a woman’s affection."

She expected a witty response in return but he didn’t answer. She turned to see why. Immediately she wished she could bring to mind his earlier remarks. She replayed what had been said, but could find nothing that would produce his shuttered expression.

Something about his look tugged at her.

"Oh, look, the musicians are arriving. I always love to hear them tune their instruments. The party scene in Act One is very difficult for them." She bent over the rail to motion to the orchestra. "Mozart was very ambitious when he composed this opera. It requires considerable skill for the conductor to coordinate the ensembles of three orchestras onstage and the opera orchestra in the pit."

Calliope caught a glimpse of Robert on the mezzanine level and pulled back inside the box. It was too late to hide.
" And
soon we will be treated to another performance. Of course, at times one performance vastly surpasses another. And certain composers obviously hold one’s attention better. But then, that is to be expected, yes?"

She knew she was babbling, but she continued talking until an amused smile lifted his lips. She gave a small sigh of relief.

"Do you like the opera, my lord?"

He waited a beat and she held her breath.

"Yes, it is quite odd, I know, but I enjoy the performance." He scanned her lazily from head to toe.
"Unless something else is occupying my attention."

Heat rushed over her body. He seemed to have recovered from whatever malady had plagued him. His words caused her imagination to run rampant wondering what the box had been used for in the past.

"Do you need a fan? You appear flushed."

She sent him a saucy look. His current attitude made it easier. "Mmmm, why, yes, my lord. It is rather warm, don’t you think?" She ran her tongue lightly over her lips and gently massaged her neck, letting her head fall back slightly.

His face showed no outward effect, but the muscles in his legs tensed.

Angelford was in excellent physical condition. She remembered how he had easily caught the maid and her tray at the Killroys’ party and how he had lifted her after the attack in the garden.

She savored her victory until he switched chairs, putting himself next to her. He leaned toward her and stroked her neck. "Maybe we should ease the tension."

Her breath caught in her chest and warmth suffused her lower body. She allowed him to continue the gentle massage and met his eyes. She felt herself being sucked into a vortex as he bent his head. He had the most sensual lips of any man she had ever seen.

Lord Holt slipped into the box, breaking the spell. "Esmerelda, my dear, I didn’t know you were going to be at the opera tonight."

Calliope tried to lean back, but James continued stroking her neck, and held her in place.

"Lord Holt, how nice to see you this evening."

She tossed a saccharine smile his way as the door opened again. "Lord Roth, what a pleasant surprise." And it was. He was the perfect buffer for Holt, who she always felt was interrogating her, especially when he started stroking his blasted chin. Both men moved forward.

"Angelford," Lord Roth said.

"Angelford," Lord Holt echoed.

Angelford acknowledged the men tersely. Calliope sent a pointed look in his direction.

He looked irritated, but stood.
" Excuse
me, my dear, I do believe I will leave you to your admirers while I find refreshments."

She began to hold court as he slipped out the door.

James stepped through the crowd. The orchestra was still tuning, and the performance would soon begin. He wanted to be seated before the curtain rose. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. He had wanted to sock both men in the nose before leaving, but sense had prevailed.

James raked his fingers through his hair. This was merely a role he was playing, albeit a dangerous one. Calliope was an imposter and an unknown quantity. She was the mistress of his best friend.

She was also a woman he wanted badly.

His feelings were always in flux around her. She goaded him when she flirted with Stephen. She amused him with her quick wit while reducing society misses to stammering ninnies. She tantalized him with her perfume. She intrigued him with her various guises and mystified him with her subterfuge. And a protective streak had manifested itself when he glimpsed her face as she exited the carriage.

He didn’t like his lack of control one bit.

Stephen. They needed to work together for him. James needed to keep his emotions in check.

But how far to trust her?
She was hiding something, he could feel it. Although he couldn’t totally dismiss her as a suspect, she was at the bottom of the list. The threatening note, her actions and her responses held together too well at present.

He grabbed two glasses of wine and scooted back to his box. The atmosphere inside was jovial.

"Good evening to you, Esmerelda.
Angelford."

Roth rose, and both he and Holt took their leave.

Calliope accepted the proffered glass and smiled. "Thank you."

She was in a congenial mood and, for once, he had no wish to spoil it.

Act One was exceptional, but he was uninterested. He watched Calliope’s face as she immersed herself in the unfolding drama. Five minutes into the act she relaxed and he observed the byplay of emotions streaming across her face. Generally she was a closed book, but tonight she seemed to experience the drama onstage wholeheartedly.

At intermission they talked about the elaborate set pieces at Giovanni’s castle and the soprano’s wonderful performance.

"Truly a talented lady
, "
Calliope said.

He looked at her speculatively. "With a name like Calliope I am surprised you don’t sing."

She looked at him with considerable interest.

"Do you like the classics, my lord?"

"Not at first. My tutor said I was quite an unruly student in my early days. One day, probably at his wits’ end, he handed me Homer’s
Odyssey
. I was hooked."

She nodded in understanding. "I love the ancient myths. My mother was an avid reader. She taught me to read and supplied me with books. She always wanted to build a grand library."

He heard the wistful tone in her voice. "What happened?"

A shadow crossed her face. "She never had the opportunity."

It was the first personal remark she had shared and he didn’t know how to proceed. "What other things did she like?"

The shadow cleared and a sad expression appeared. "She loved to sing."

Reality interfered with the conversation. People streamed in and out of boxes and the gamesmanship began.

"I believe it is time for Esmerelda to cast some lures," Calliope said, and gave her fake locks a slight toss.

James nodded and escorted her to the lobby.

They separated so he could presumably smoke his cheroot on the balcony and she could hold court freely.

Chaos reigned supreme. It seemed the entire opera house had emptied into the lobby. James realized it was always this crowded during intermission, but he was tense thinking about who could be in their midst. He was having difficulty tracking Calliope, and decided to move to the short steps near the pillars flanking the main stairway.

"James!"

He stifled a groan as Lady Flanders cooed his name and headed his way. Penelope was the wife of a man twenty years her senior, and was always dangling for a rendezvous. She never took the hint that James was not interested in dallying with another man’s wife.

"James! I see you have a new trinket to add to your collection." She gained his side, rubbing against him, and turned to watch Esmerelda entertain her admirers. "Not quite as voluptuous as your last one. Let me see, was her name Stella?"

James inclined his head and remained silent.

"You know, you really should think about those whose husbands are too interested in other affairs. There is much to be gained from such a relationship." She peeked at him through her lashes, trying to be coy.

"Penelope, I believe
Flanders
is looking for you." He motioned toward the earl, whom he could see above the crowd.

She made a dismissive motion toward
Flanders
. "Dear, don’t you know you are the prime catch? Dear Harry wouldn’t mind trading partners with you for the night, if you would be so inclined."

James was sure her remarks were true. The earl had been a member of the bevy of admirers Esmerelda had drawn over the course of the last few weeks.

"Not tonight, Penelope."

A pout marred her lips when Lord Holt suddenly appeared, terminating further attempts by Penelope.

"Good evening, Lady Flanders. Angelford, may I have a word with you?"

Penelope had no option but to withdraw from the conversation.
 

Holt waited until she was out of earshot before saying, "I was wondering if you had heard from Chalmers. He should have completed his task by now."

James gave a nonchalant shrug he wasn’t feeling. "Stephen is probably enjoying another lady friend.
Or two."

Holt nodded and actively scanned the faces in the crowd. "It is hard to determine who to trust anymore. We are trying to ferret out spies in the department. Haven’t had this much trouble in the office since the Little General was in the field."

What was Holt about? He was notorious for keeping his cards close to his chest. In fact, the other day hadn’t he stated there was nothing afoot? He had made that ludicrous comment about a lull.

Before James could question him further, the trumpets blew, indicating the next act would soon begin. Holt excused himself. James searched for Calliope and was annoyed to find she had moved. He studied the lobby’s occupants. She was nowhere in sight. He walked briskly up to his box, but she was not inside and the second act had already begun.