Constable Hubble twisted his hat in his hands. "Is my lady lodging a complaint too? Because I don't much like to make an arrest at such a moment."

Callie blinked. "Arrest?" Then she shook her head. "There's no one to arrest. You can't arrest a bull." She bit her lip, envisioning what damage Hubert might have done while he was on the loose. "Can you?"

The constable gave a hawking laugh. "Nay, my lady, I'm not here to arrest no bull. I reckon you mean the colonel's animal? I've kept a lookout for 'im this morning, certain enough, but I've a warrant here for-" He pulled a document from inside his coat. "For a duke of Mon-serks, says. Of French origin, residin' at Dove House, village of Shelford, hundred of Radlow, union of Bromyard, county of… etc., etc."

"That French fellow?" Major Sturgeon spoke at her elbow, a sharp note in his voice. "This is where he lives?"

Constable Hubble glanced up and nodded at Sturgeon. "Aye, sir. I'm after 'im, I can assures you. But his mama's in her last mortal coils, her man here tells me, and he's been called to come to her side. I'd as soon wait a little while sir, beggin' your pardon. There be no hurry to take the gentleman up. It can wait until his mama's left this world, god bless 'er."

"The duke?" Callie took a trembling breath. "I don't understand. You have a warrant for the duke?"

"Aye, my lady. Arrest warrant."

"Arrest!" She gasped. "For what?"

"Assault on an officer of the king's army, ma'am, and on a justice of the peace. That was Colonel Davenport himself, my lady, and this here military gentleman, if I'm not mistaken."

Callie turned to Major Sturgeon. She looked at his swollen jaw, and thought of Trev's swollen hand. With a speechless burst of insight, she apprehended that they had not, after all, fallen off their respective horses.

"Breakin' the king's peace, riot, and threatenin' behavior," Hubble added, reading from his warrant. "Attested to by John L. Sturgeon, Major, Mr. Daniel Smith, proprietor of the Bluebell tavern, list of other witnesses, statements taken on the spot, etc., etc."

She was still staring at Major Sturgeon. A warrant for Trev's arrest.

She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them. Trev had said she would understand today why he had to go away.

Her heart sank. It was a shock, but not entirely beyond comprehension. Ever since she had known him, Trev had played over the edge of safe and lawful conduct. He seemed to glory in discovering just how far he could go, how much he could get by with. She was probably fortunate to escape having a warrant for her own arrest, merely for having tea with him at the Antlers.

Major Sturgeon seemed vexed, as well he might if Trev had assaulted him. There had been an instant antagonism between the two of them at their brief meeting, a hostility that Trev had certainly done his best to encourage. She felt blood rising to her cheeks. Had it been over her? She could not imagine that two gentlemen had exchanged blows over Lady Callista Taillefaire. They would be more likely to consult one another on novel methods to escape her spinster clutches.

"I didn't wish to burden you with the details of a rather sordid encounter, Lady Callista," the major said, his voice still slurred by the swelling at his jaw. "I beg your pardon if I've bent the truth regarding my injury."

"Oh no," she said, turning away hurriedly. "I'm sure it's no business of mine how you came to be injured."

"Perhaps someday you'll allow me to tell you a bit about this 'duke,'" he said, speaking with considerable bitterness. "He claims to be your friend, but I don't think you should depend upon it, my lady."

"Indeed," Callie said. She was having a little trouble breathing. "Perhaps someday you will tell me. But now I really must go in to the duchesse." She turned and went quickly up the path to where Jock stood at the door.

"Let's just take a look in the stable yard, Constable," Major Sturgeon said behind her. "For this bull-and anyone else who may be there."

Ten

CALLIE HURRIED UP THE STAIRS OF DOVE HOUSE. SHE did not pause to knock at the bedroom door but went straight in, fearing to find the duchesse in very grave condition. Instead she found Madame sitting up in a chair, sipping at a cup of tea while a nurse changed the bedsheets with competent efficiency.

"Lady Callista!" Madame said in her soft, strug gling voice. "Do come in. I am so… pleased to see you." She had to pause a moment in the midst of the sentence to catch her breath, but she was attired in a dressing gown, her hair arranged neatly and her color good.

Callie dropped her hand from the door knob. "Good morning, ma'am." She halted uncertainly. "I'm sorry to burst in upon you. But I thought-they told me below-I was most concerned, ma'am! I thought you were left alone."

Madame smiled and lifted her hand. "As you can see, my son has procured… an excellent woman to nurse me."

The nurse lifted her head for a moment and nodded curtly before she went back to work. She had a military air about her that made Callie feel as if she should salute in reply.

"But I'm impatient for a little company," Madame said. "I feel so much better that I must have a… caller to amuse me. I heard someone ring a little while ago, but still I am deserted, you see! My infamous son, he is sleeping very late."

Callie moved into the room. "You're feeling better, ma'am?"

"Much better." The duchesse smiled. "I do believe I could… dance."

Callie had never thought of herself as particularly shrewd, but she noted the contradiction between Jock's story to the constable and the evident truth that Madame was not on her deathbed quite yet. "I'm so glad," she said. "That's a great relief to me. But you haven't seen the duke today?"

The duchesse shook her head. "It is most vexing. I should like to send him down to see what is… all this clamor. Voices at the door, and I heard the strangest sound, my dear, you… would not credit. Nurse says I am dreaming, it's only a dog, but we have no dog, you know!" She shook her head. "And it did not sound like a dog at all. More as the very Horn of Salvation! But sinister. Very low. Almost I could not hear it."

"I heard a dog barkin', madam," the nurse said stubbornly. "Certain as I live."

"Yes, there was a dog too," Madame agreed. "But this was… different."

"Aye, and it may be that your mind is playin' tricks on you, madam, since you haven't yet been bled as the doctor directed." Nurse snapped the sheets taut across the bed. "Too much heat in the brain."

The duchesse made a little face, turning toward Callie so that the nurse could not see. She winked. "Yes, my brain is boiling," she said. "But I wish for my son… to approve my treatments."

"He'd best rouse himself out of bed, then, madam," the nurse said with the disapproval of the righteous for all those who did not rise at first light.

"Indeed," said Madame. "Before my head bursts! Perhaps, Lady Callista, would you be so good as to direct his… manservant to wake him?"

Callie opened her mouth, but nothing emerged. She was certain Trev was far away somewhere, f leeing the law, though she had no idea how to break this news to the duchesse. As she searched for some way to def lect the request, a low vibration rose beneath her very feet, a rumble that was just at the edge of hearing. The long and haunting note seemed to tremble in the walls themselves before it died away below hearing.

"There!" the duchesse exclaimed and was immedi ately overcome by a fit of coughing. She leaned over, struggling to breathe, while men shouted outside. Callie and the nurse hurried to assist Madame, but she waved, pointing to the door. The nurse was wide eyed now, supporting the duchesse's thin shoulders as she coughed, looking up at Callie as if she had seen a ghost.