Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"Perhaps they will arrive tomorrow, Lyon," said Diana.

He was frowning, wondering what the devil to do.

"Come, now, surely you don't think we should simply give up and return to London?"

"Do you and your wife still wish a room, milord?"

"She is not my wife," said Lyon.

"Ah," said the innkeeper. He eyed the young lady and began to draw some most interesting conclusions.

"Look here," Lyon began, growing angry.

"No, 'tis not important," said Diana, touching his forearm.

He was still frowning as he turned away from the innkeeper. "I suppose we will simply wait," he said finally. "It would be ridiculous to return to London when they might arrive in time. Also, I don't wish to give rise to any more gossip."

"I am your cousin, of sorts. As a relative, surely you can escort me places without tongues wagging."

"Your navet never ceases to amaze me." He turned back to the innkeeper before Diana could retort. "Very well. Two bedchambers and a private dining room."

"My regrets, milord. But we haven't one available."

&nb

sp; "I understood that you would," Lyon said at his most imperious.

"My apologies, milord. But a Captain Rafael Carstairs requested the private parlor."

Lyon turned to Diana. "Are you willing to dine in your room, alone?"

She shrugged.

"Very well. See that a maid is sent to Miss Savarol's bedchamber."

It wasn't until ten minutes later that Diana discovered their bedchambers were adjoining. She was uncertain what to do. Obviously the innkeeper believed them to be closer than they were. Ha! That was a ludicrous thought! Lyon, drat him, had left the inn, doubtless to go exploring and enjoy himself.

She was tired, she admitted. She dismissed the young maid and lay on the bed. She was asleep within five minutes.

Lyon stood in the now open doorway between their bedchambers. The room was shadowy in the late-afternoon light, but he could clearly see Diana's outline on her bed. Damn the innkeeper, he thought. He saw no hope for it, and quietly walked to her bed.

"Diana."

She was lying on her back, her head turned away from him on the pillow, one arm raised above her head. She didn't stir.

He gently shook her shoulder. "Diana. Time to wake up. Come on, my girl."

She heard his voice, low and gentle, and sighed softly. "Lyon," she said.

He jerked his hand off her shoulder and straightened. What the devil was she reaming about? He said more loudly, "Diana, it's time to wake up."

She opened her eyes, blinked several times, and stretched with luxuriant thoroughness. Lyon's eyes went to her breasts, and he gulped and stepped back.

"What time is it?"

"Late afternoon. About six o'clock. I have found a snug little place to eat dinner on Crammer Street, just a couple of minutes from here. If you would like, we can eat there and you won't have to remain imprisoned in your room."

She gave him a dazzling smile. "That is very nice of you. Give me five minutes to rearrange myself."