Page 47 of Making of a Scandal
She’d been relieved when Diana announced that she wished to leave, the cloistering heat making her feel ill. Her sister had still been feeling poorly this morning, retching into a chamber pot and complaining that every bite of food she consumed came back up with a vengeance.
“She is with child,” Ekta declared while helping Calliope dress. “The signs are there, I witnessed it all when your mother carried you.”
“I am happy for her, even if I hate to see her so ill,” Calliope replied, while secretly reeling with an unexpected moroseness.
She was elated to know she would soon be an aunt, but could not help but think of what it would mean for her to fail at her own mission. Diana would bear this child, and others, creating a growing family with Hastings. If Martin couldn’t be made to come up to scratch, she would never again believe that marriage or a family could be in her future. She would move out of Hastings House, for she knew it would be too difficult to feel as if she were an intruder in the lives of Diana and her family.
Perhaps she would live with her father and his two elderly aunts—who spent their spare time gossiping about those who did not live up to their lofty standards of comportment. Few people ever went unscathed. She would grow old alone, wasting away untouched, unloved, and filled with regret.
The thought distressed her until tears pricked her eyes, and when she blinked, she found Ekta standing before her. The old woman’s wrinkled face was lined with sympathy, her bony hands wiping away Calliope’s tears. Her dark eyes glittered with fierce determination as she took hold of Calliope’s chin.
“Your time will come, my dear Anni. The men who could not see what a jewel you are do not deserve your tears.”
Calliope sniffled and smiled at the woman who had raised her, wondering how she would have survived without Ekta. Hers was the only face she looked upon daily that reflected her own self back to her, the only one that reminded her of a home she remembered little of and a mother whose memory grew hazier with time.
Once her tears were gone, Ekta threw up her hands and bustled back across the room, the moment of tenderness passing as quickly as it had come.
“I still say your father ought to be involved in this. It is best to allow the head male of the family to arrange such unions. This Mr. Lewes could be your betrothed already, had you wrote to him as I suggested.”
Calliope laughed, taking up the shawl laid across the foot of her bed. “Well, you may soon get your wish. I believe Diana has been plotting again, because I received a letter from Father this morning. He has sent for us to visit him and the aunts. They are in Surrey, and he plans to host an intimate house party and invite many of our friends and acquaintances. He made sure to inform me he’d caught wind of the gossip surrounding the two men who have been publicly courting me.”
Ekta murmured a low sound of approval. “Your sister has sent word to him, and now he will bring both men under his roof to take their measure.”
Calliope cringed behind the maid’s turned back at the thought of her father thinking Dominick a serious contender for her hand. She would be devastated for him to ever know the truth, so she must allow him to think she was seriously considering the man for marriage.
“Yes, well, that might be Father’s intention, but I can see what Diana is up to. She is hoping Dominick’s presence at the party will push Martin to finally propose. Father’s estate in Surrey isn’t as large as his other, so the guests will number few. Such a small gathering will force us all in close proximity. Martin will hardly be able to ignore Dominick’s efforts.”
Ekta turned slowly to face her, a pair of slippers gripped in one hand and Calliope’s dressing gown hung over the opposite arm. “You refer to both of these men by their Christian names.”
It wasn’t a question, but Calliope could hear the accusation in the maid’s voice. She avoided Ekta’s gaze and fussed needlessly with her hair in the mirror.
“Martin and I are friends, and we are well on our way toward a betrothal. It is all right for us to use our first names when no one else is about.”
“And this man who is also a whore? You refer to him asDominick?”
Calliope’s face burned. “It is nothing.”
“That isn’t what I’ve overheard when you speak to Diana of this man. You talk about him as if you—”
“Ekta, please!” she said sharply, unable to listen to another word. “It is my hope that by end of the fortnight, Martin will have made his offer and this will all be over. Now … if you would please ensure my things are prepared for the journey to Surrey …”
Ekta raised one black eyebrow and pursed her lips. “I hope you know what you are doing, girl. You are not my little Anni anymore, and I must accept that. But, I will be here when this is all over—whether it ends with a wedding or a broken heart.”
With that, the maid went into the adjoining dressing room where Calliope’s empty trunk awaited. Ekta’s words seemed a harbinger of doom, but she pushed them aside with grim determination. Her plan was working, and Dominick Burke was nothing more than a small complication—one that she did not intend to let distract her any longer.
She left her bedchamber, only to be met by a servant come to inform her that she had a visitor. Warring feelings of relief and disappointment overwhelmed her when she entered the drawing room to see it was Martin who had come to call, not Dominick.
Traitor, her mind railed as she forced a smile for her visitor.
“Martin,” she choked out, trying to keep the confusion and conflict out of her eyes. “What a lovely surprise.”
Extending both hands to her, he returned her smile, though his perusal of her was both guarded and wary. “Calliope. You are looking quite lovely this afternoon, but of course, you always do.”
His compliment fell on her with none of the effect of the words of a certain courtesan, which only made her more cross with herself as well as Dominick. The man had ruined her without ever actually making love to her, filling her mind with thoughts no unwed lady ought to ponder. Thoughts that did not concern the wonderful man standing before her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, allowing him to take her hands and inspect her from head to toe. “I am glad you are here, actually. An invitation will come to you in a matter of a few days, but now I can invite you in person myself. My father is hosting a small house party at his home in Surrey, and I do hope you will attend.”
He gave her hands a tug to urge her close, paying no mind to the open door or the specter of nearby servants. Shock rippled through her at his sudden familiarity as well as his disregard for propriety. It was an expected change; one she had been anticipating for weeks. Only now, she couldn’t help comparing the touch of his naked hands against hers to that of Dominick. It was bad of her to think Martin’s hands too soft, lacking the strength and commanding allure of her courtesan’s. It was even more wrong of her to wish he stood a few inches taller, that his hair wasn’t such a bright shade of blond, or that his eyes were the color of spring leaves instead of a morning sky.
