Read Online Anne Barbour by Lady Hilarys Halloween - Free Book Online Page A

“You’d think I’d know better by now after twenty years. I guess I must be getting slow on my feet.”
    Despite himself, James grinned, and Hilary was made dismayingly aware of the stirring in her insides thus engendered. “I understand the problem,” he said. “I’ve been caught that way, myself.”
    Rufus’ brows lifted. “You are in the army?”
    “I was.”
    Turning at a small sound from Hilary, he directed a frown at her. “Yes?”
    “Nothing,” said Hilary hastily. “I was only surprised—that is, I did not know you had served. Were you at Waterloo?”
    “No,” answered James shortly. “I sold out in ‘14, when we thought we had Boney safely kenneled on St. Helena. I served on the Peninsula.”
    Hilary’s mouth formed a small, round 0. “I had no idea,” she murmured.
    “Is it impossible,” asked James irritably, “that a scholar can be a soldier, as well?”
    “Of course not,” replied Hilary, her surprise still evident in her tone. “But you must admit, it is an unusual combination. I suppose,” she added carefully, “that it only proves that one should not be too quick to judge on appearances.”
    James glanced at her sharply, but said nothing. He turned his attention to Rufus, who circled the room, tapping lightly on the windowpanes.
    “Now, then,” he said, only to be interrupted by a scratching at the door, followed by the entrance of a plump, middle-aged woman, who wore a cluster of keys at her waist.
    “Ah, Mrs. Armbruster,” he said as the housekeeper advanced into the room. “We have a visitor, for whom we’ll need accommodations for, er, an extended period.” He paused, indicating with a dubious gesture his guest, over whom Mrs. Armbruster had cast one startled glance before averting her eyes. “He is assisting me in a—ah—project for the Antiquarian Society.”
    “Very good, sir,” said Mrs. Armbruster expressionlessly. To Rufus, she said, “If you will follow me, sir?”
    She turned, swinging back in some surprise when Rufus did not follow her.
    “That’s all right, Mrs. Armbruster,” said James. “I’ll show him up myself later.”
    “Very good, sir. And will the gentleman be joining you for lunch? And Lady Hilary?”
    “Lunch? Ah—it is that time, is it not? Just send in some sandwiches, please.”
    He sank into a nearby chair when the door closed behind the housekeeper.
    “Whew! I can see this entire situation is going to be fraught with peril.”
    “Does this mean that you believe Rufus’ story?” asked Hilary eagerly.
    James rose slowly and stared at Rufus. He sighed. “I just don’t know. He spins a good yam, but the whole thing is so preposterous—
    “Devil take it,” he said to Rufus in Latin. “Are you telling me the truth?”
    Again, Rufus thrust forth his jaw. “Are you calling me a liar, you underfed barbarian? Do you think it possible to rig a strike of lightning?” He waved his arms in indignation.
    “No, but—” James’s eyes widened as his gaze fell on the dagger exposed at Rufus’ waist. “Where did you get that?” he breathed reverently.
    Withdrawing it from its leather sheath with every evidence of pride, Rufus caressed the blade.
    “A beauty, isn’t it? Case-hardened bronze from the finest craftsman in Lugdunum.”
    “That’s Lyons,” said James in an aside to Hilary.
    She nodded. “Yes, and known for the fine metalworkers there.”
    Again, James experienced a surge of surprise.
    “It was a gift from my father when I went into the army. I was just a boy, then.”
    “May I?”
    James extended his hand and Rufus grudgingly placed the knife in his palm. A footman entered with a tray of sandwiches just then, accompanied by wine and cakes. Munching thoughtfully, James examined the knife. He had seen similar specimens, unearthed after centuries in graves or river mud, but they were all in advanced stages of deterioration. This blade was whole and shining and beautiful, the handle carved from fine ivory. Engraved on