Page 24 of Making of a Scandal
The London Gossip, 24 August, 1819
Two days after her meeting with Dominick Burke, Calliope stood in the Covington’s ballroom awaiting his arrival. The place was stifling, and though the doors had been thrown open, they only let in more of the hot summer air. This particular affair had turned out to be an epic crush, which made it the perfect opportunity for her and her hired courtesan to stage a meeting. She had arrived with Diana and Hastings over an hour ago, on time as always. The dance floor overflowed with couples dancing a Scotch reel, while the doors of the card room hung open to show dozens of men engrossed in their games. Much to her annoyance, Mr. Burke had yet to make an appearance.
Craning her neck to scan the crowd, she found several brown-haired men dancing, talking, or strolling the perimeter of the ballroom with young ladies. Mr. Burke was not among them, and though the space was filled from wall to wall, she felt as if she’d recognize him anywhere. The man was the sort who drew attention, and he didn’t seem averse to making a spectacle of himself. He would stand out in a crowd like the most vibrant of peacocks.
“Ah, Miss Barrington. I had hoped to see you here tonight.”
Calliope’s breath hitched as she turned in the direction of the familiar voice. Martin Lewes stood before her, his waistcoat a deep shade of navy blue that accentuated the hue of his eyes. His blond hair rippled with neatly brushed waves, his smooth jaw drawing her gaze down to the perfect pout of his mouth.
“M-Mr. Lewes,” she said as her belly performed a harrowing somersault. “How lovely it is to see you again.”
He took her hand and raised it toward his lips, though his mouth never made contact. Disappointment swirled through her, though she did not let it show. She simply gave him a smile as he straightened from gracing the air above her knuckles with his affection.
“Are you promised for the next dance?”
“I am not.”
“Then may I request the honor?”
“Of course, Mr. Lewes.”
He smiled, and Calliope became boneless. The man was truly beautiful when he smiled.
“Excellent. May I get you something to drink while we wait?”
“I would like that, thank you.”
“I will return shortly,” he promised, before shouldering his way through the crowd.
Calliope flicked her fan and tried not to stare after him like a besotted fool, only … shewasbesotted. However, it wouldn’t do for her to let it show—not until Mr. Lewes had indicated his own interest. The last thing she needed was for someone to see her as a grasping, loose woman with no shame chasing after a future viscount. Such whispers had made the rounds about her mother, and lived on so many years later. Calliope had worked hard to cultivate a good reputation, and would not ruin that now.
A commotion on the other side of the cavernous room had her swiveling in the direction of the grand staircase. The murmur of voices rose to a dull roar in reaction to the name that had just been announced. The sight of the late arrival seemed to throw the guests into pandemonium, and one would think they were witnessing the second coming of Christ.
It was only Mr. Burke, however, though Calliope understood that he was a rare sight at such occasions. His reputation called to mind seedy taverns, brothels, and gaming hells as the sorts of places a man like him frequented. However, she realized with a small measure of surprise that he looked as much at home in this ballroom as he had in her drawing room. Just as she suspected, he drew every eye when he descended into their midst, his hair arranged in a dashing tousle, and his lips curved into the sort of half-smile that felt at once mocking and playful—as if he were in on a joke the rest of them knew nothing about. His gaze swept the room for a moment before landing on her, and the same agitation she’d felt before reared its ugly head. Annoyance flared as he raised an eyebrow at her before disappearing into the crowd.
She released a little snort in reaction to his tardiness as well as his goading. Now that he had arrived, he would make her dangle a bit before coming to her. She realized it was the smart thing to do if they wanted to appear authentic, but just now it felt as if he did this simply because he could—and if ever a man had struck her as one who did things only because he was able, it was Dominick Burke.
Mr. Lewes returned with a cup of punch for her, and his reappearance proved a welcome distraction.
“Here you are,” he murmured, laying the cup in her palms and then lingering at her side with his hands folded behind his back. “Are Hastings and the countess here tonight?”
“Yes. Diana is dancing, and Hastings is … oh, he’s coming this way.”
Calliope experienced another surge of nervous excitement as her brother-in-law weaved his way through the crowd in their direction. Dominick Burke was on his heels, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Calliope and that teasing smirk still curving his lips. She clenched tighter to her fan and forced a smile as they drew near.
“Sister, Mr. Lewes, I had hoped to introduce you to an old acquaintance of mine. He hardly ever attends these affairs, so I thought it best to take advantage of the occasion. May I present, Mr. Dominick Burke … Mr. Burke, my sister-in-law, Miss Calliope Barrington, and my old friend, The Hounourable Mr. Martin Lewes.”
“Mr. Lewes, we have never been introduced, but your younger brother and I became acquainted during our Eton days.”
Mr. Lewes offered a genial smile. “Of course. I seem to remember some rather amusing stories concerning toads and chamber pots.”
Mr. Burke laughed, and drew the attention of every woman within hearing distance. Heads swiveled and eyes went wide at the sound—rich and warm and far too boisterous for a ballroom. The man didn’t seem to notice or care about all the attention.
“Ah yes, though I do hope the stories don’t make me sound too much the little scamp. I can assure you, I’ve come a long way since those days.”
Then, he was looking at her, his smile disappearing and his expression becoming one that put a flush in her cheeks.
“Miss Barrington, I haven’t yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but I am delighted to do so now. I hope you won’t think me too impertinent for saying that such a shade of yellow is quite becoming on you.”
