By the time Callie reached her bedroom, she had found a target for the roil of emotion in her breast. And he was so amiable as to be waiting for her, stepping out from behind her door to take her about the waist and bestow an ardent kiss on the nape of her neck. As Trev turned her in his arms she trembled with fury, which he seemed to misinterpret as romantic passion, so that he was taken entirely by surprise when she planted a shove in the center of his chest that set him reeling backward.

"Do… not… touch me," she said through her teeth. As he caught himself on the bedpost, she lifted one eyebrow in scorn. She waited, breathing deeply, until he pushed away from the bed and stood upright. "A Mrs. Fowler wishes to see you."

He'd glanced down to straighten his coat sleeve. At her words, his body stilled. He looked up at her. "I beg your pardon?"

She held out the folded note. "Here."

He ignored it. "Mrs. Fowler?"

With a supreme effort, Callie held herself back from a vulgar display of her feelings, such as screaming aloud or stabbing him with a hairpin. Instead, she said with a dangerous coolness, "I believe you are acquainted with her?"

Trev stood looking at her. "Are you making a jest?"

Callie had a moment's pause. He made no attempt to soothe her or offer any excuse or explanation for himself. He appeared to have no desire to hurry to Mrs. Fowler's side or even to read her note. He didn't do anything but give Callie a look of slightly affronted disbelief.

"I am not," she said, maintaining her rigid spine. "I wouldn't jest about such a thing. She wishes to see you." Once again she held out the note.

He regarded it with all the fondness one might feel for an overripe kipper. They stood facing one another, a few feet apart, as if a bottomless chasm had opened in the f loor between them.

"She sent this. She wishes to see you," she repeated, feeling he must not properly comprehend the case.

"Well, I do not wish to see her," he replied sweetly. "Good God, what can she want, the little—" He stopped himself. "You didn't tell her I was here, did you?"

The tone of this callous rejoinder, while not entirely unwelcome to her feelings, somewhat shocked Callie. She'd been feeling miserably ashamed, awakened from a brief dream in his arms to reality again—a reality now graced by the woman he loved so deeply that he had been willing to sacrifice his very life for her. But he didn't appear to understand the situation at all.

"Of course I told her," she said. "I've arranged for her to come here masked tonight, so that you can safely meet."

He shook his head slowly. "Callie. Do you despise me that much?"