protection as to make sure she didn’t escape.
Tomorrow he would have answers.
Chapter 5
Calliope woke at daybreak. Gray light sifted around the drapery panels, casting ghostly patterns on the floor and walls. She pulled the heavy damask fabric aside, and peered across the manicured lawn and into the street. The neighborhood was silent. No birds chirped. The street seemed ominously empty.
Determined to reverse the uneasiness of the gloomy morning and her lingering thoughts from the night before, Calliope donned a bright morning dress and warm shawl. She arranged her wig, applied makeup and finished her toilette.
She headed downstairs to check on her new guard. Finn was in the sitting room to the left of the front door, his posture upright and alert, just as she had left him. Somehow Calliope wasn’t surprised.
"Good morning, Mr. Finn. Must have been tiring to maintain that position all night."
"Good morning, miss. You’re up rather early. "
"I don’t require much sleep and rather enjoy puttering around in the morning. You look like you could use something with a bit of a warm bite." Calliope nodded to him and left to fix breakfast. The servants had trickled in throughout the late evening and early morning hours, but they had taken her offer to sleep late.
Calliope rubbed her cold hands together. Baking was a treat for her, one she hadn’t been able to indulge in since moving into Stephen’s townhouse. The servants were suspicious enough without her usurping their duties.
She made her selections easily from the well-stocked larder. She laid a fire in the oven, brightening the room, but as she worked with the dough, an uncomfortable silence permeated the kitchen. Every sound echoed and was magnified.
Calliope forced a whistle, but it was nothing like the melodic tunes that came readily when the sun was shining and the air a cheery temperature.
She wished she had invited Finn to join her. She finished quickly. Relieved to vacate the empty kitchen, she carried a tray of warm scones, jam and hot tea into the sitting room. Finn helped himself. His greedy consumption left little doubt her fare was satisfactory.
"What is your position in the Marquess of Angelford’s household, Mr. Finn?"
Finn popped another piece of scone in his mouth and washed it down with some tea. He was stalling.
"Just the odd job here and there, ma’am."
"What type of odd job?"
"Oh, this and that." He started in on a third scone.
"Your explanation is somewhat vague."
Finn winked. The gesture was odd and softened his scarred and forbidding face. "So are my duties."
The back door opened to the sound of thumping feet and soft voices. Finn set down his cup, rose and stood behind one of Stephen’s large plants near the door. There was a rap on the panel.
"Yes?" Calliope asked.
The door slowly opened and Grimmond appeared.
"The staff have returned to their posts, miss. I trust everything went well in our absence? Cook noticed someone had warmed the ovens, and may I say the smell is divine." His gaze encompassed the tray on the table. "Would you care for anything more?"
"Everything is fine, Grimmond, much as I said it would be."
"Very well, miss. I will be in the front parlor should you need me. I will have one of the maids come in a bit later to clear the dishes."
He had seen the two plates but hadn’t flickered as much as an eyelash in response. Stephen had confessed their ruse to Grimmond and she was suddenly glad. "Thank you, Grimmond."
He retreated, closing the door behind him.
Finn emerged from behind the door and snatched the last scone. "I will leave as soon as I have a last look around the property, miss."
He patted her on the shoulder before exiting the room. It was an unexpected but reassuring gesture.
The bustle of the servants sounded through the house and Calliope walked to the library, her
Tomorrow he would have answers.
Chapter 5
Calliope woke at daybreak. Gray light sifted around the drapery panels, casting ghostly patterns on the floor and walls. She pulled the heavy damask fabric aside, and peered across the manicured lawn and into the street. The neighborhood was silent. No birds chirped. The street seemed ominously empty.
Determined to reverse the uneasiness of the gloomy morning and her lingering thoughts from the night before, Calliope donned a bright morning dress and warm shawl. She arranged her wig, applied makeup and finished her toilette.
She headed downstairs to check on her new guard. Finn was in the sitting room to the left of the front door, his posture upright and alert, just as she had left him. Somehow Calliope wasn’t surprised.
"Good morning, Mr. Finn. Must have been tiring to maintain that position all night."
"Good morning, miss. You’re up rather early. "
"I don’t require much sleep and rather enjoy puttering around in the morning. You look like you could use something with a bit of a warm bite." Calliope nodded to him and left to fix breakfast. The servants had trickled in throughout the late evening and early morning hours, but they had taken her offer to sleep late.
Calliope rubbed her cold hands together. Baking was a treat for her, one she hadn’t been able to indulge in since moving into Stephen’s townhouse. The servants were suspicious enough without her usurping their duties.
She made her selections easily from the well-stocked larder. She laid a fire in the oven, brightening the room, but as she worked with the dough, an uncomfortable silence permeated the kitchen. Every sound echoed and was magnified.
Calliope forced a whistle, but it was nothing like the melodic tunes that came readily when the sun was shining and the air a cheery temperature.
She wished she had invited Finn to join her. She finished quickly. Relieved to vacate the empty kitchen, she carried a tray of warm scones, jam and hot tea into the sitting room. Finn helped himself. His greedy consumption left little doubt her fare was satisfactory.
"What is your position in the Marquess of Angelford’s household, Mr. Finn?"
Finn popped another piece of scone in his mouth and washed it down with some tea. He was stalling.
"Just the odd job here and there, ma’am."
"What type of odd job?"
"Oh, this and that." He started in on a third scone.
"Your explanation is somewhat vague."
Finn winked. The gesture was odd and softened his scarred and forbidding face. "So are my duties."
The back door opened to the sound of thumping feet and soft voices. Finn set down his cup, rose and stood behind one of Stephen’s large plants near the door. There was a rap on the panel.
"Yes?" Calliope asked.
The door slowly opened and Grimmond appeared.
"The staff have returned to their posts, miss. I trust everything went well in our absence? Cook noticed someone had warmed the ovens, and may I say the smell is divine." His gaze encompassed the tray on the table. "Would you care for anything more?"
"Everything is fine, Grimmond, much as I said it would be."
"Very well, miss. I will be in the front parlor should you need me. I will have one of the maids come in a bit later to clear the dishes."
He had seen the two plates but hadn’t flickered as much as an eyelash in response. Stephen had confessed their ruse to Grimmond and she was suddenly glad. "Thank you, Grimmond."
He retreated, closing the door behind him.
Finn emerged from behind the door and snatched the last scone. "I will leave as soon as I have a last look around the property, miss."
He patted her on the shoulder before exiting the room. It was an unexpected but reassuring gesture.
The bustle of the servants sounded through the house and Calliope walked to the library, her
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