The question spurred the girl into motion, and she scurried off down the hall to do her mistress’s bidding. Callie leveled Mariana and Anne with a stern look. At least they had the good sense not to comment.
“Oh, my,” Mariana said, “it appears that it is worse than we thought.”
Callie’s gaze narrowed on her sister, speaking volumes, before she spun on one heel and returned to the library to begin the long process of alphabetizing the books that were now thoroughly out of order. From her spot on the floor, Callie noted that Mariana and Anne had followed her into the room. Anne stood resolutely by the closed door as Mariana perched cautiously on the arm of one chair.
They watched Callie carefully, remaining quiet for several minutes as Callie collected titles from nearby piles. Mariana broke the silence finally, asking, “What letter are you on?”
Callie looked up at her sister from amidst the towering books and said, obviously, “A.”
Mari leaned over to consider a pile of books by her feet. Deftly removing one from the stack, she flashed a self-satisfied smile, and said, “Alighieri. Inferno.”
Callie turned back to her piles. “That’s Dante. It should be shelved under D.”
“Really?” Mariana wrinkled her nose at the book in her hand. “That seems odd. His surname begins with an A.”
“Michelangelo’s surname begins with a B and we still file him under M.”
“Hmm,” Mariana said, feigning interest in the conversation. “It must be the Italians.” She paused briefly as the maid knocked and entered with a duster for Callie. When the girl had come and gone, closing the door behind her, Mari continued absently, “I wonder if Juliana would be filed under J or F?”
Callie’s back stiffened briefly at the mention of Ralston’s sister before she resumed her dusting. “I haven’t any idea. Probably J.”
Anne piped up. “’Tis a pity she’s not an official St. John. I’ve always liked S.”
Mariana nodded. “I do so agree.”
Callie snapped her head around to look at Mariana. “What are you two trying to get at?”
“What happened last night?”
Callie looked back at the shelf she was filling. “Nothing happened.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then why are you reorganizing the library?” Mariana asked.
Callie gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “Why not? I haven’t anything else to do today.”
“Nothing better to do than rearrange the library.”
Callie wondered how difficult it would be to strangle her sister.
“A thing you only ever do when you are in search of distraction?”
And her lady’s maid.
Mariana stood and leaned against the shelf where Callie was working. “You promised you would tell me everything, you know.”
Callie shrugged again. “There’s nothing to tell.”
The words were punctuated by a knock on the door of the room. All three women turned their attention to the butler, who was making a valiant attempt to ignore the mess that had taken over the normally impeccably organized library.
He entered, closing the door firmly behind him, as though attempting to shield them from the hallway. “My lady, Lord Ralston is here. He is requesting an audience with you.”
Mariana and Anne exchanged a wide-eyed look before Mariana turned to give Callie a smug look. “Is he?”
Callie rolled her eyes at her sister and addressed the butler, “Thank you, Davis. You may tell the marquess that I am not in. He may return later in the day should he like to take a chance on my being able to receive him then.”
“Indeed, my lady.” The butler gave a short bow and exited the room.
Callie closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to calm herself. When she opened them again, Mariana and Anne were standing shoulder to shoulder, watching her closely. Anne said, “Nothing to tell, hmm?”
“No.” Callie willed her voice to remain steady.
“You’re a wretched liar,” Mariana said casually. “One can only hope that Davis is slightly better than you are.”
As the words hung in the air between them, the door opened once again, revealing the aging butler. “My ladies.” He bowed.
“Has he gone?” Callie asked.
“Erm. No, my lady. He says he will wait for you to return.”
Mariana’s jaw dropped slightly at the words. “Really?”
Davis nodded once in the direction of the youngest Hartwell sister. “Quite, my lady.”