Page 77 of Making of a Scandal
Benedict didn’t answer, looking at him as if waiting for something more. But, there was literally nothing else. The expectation of his inheritance was all there was for him now, along with the hope that he could make something of the gift his uncle was giving him. He could give no thought to any other aspect of the future, such as a wife or children—not when he could still so easily close his eyes and picture Calliope filling the empty place at his side.
Chapter 14
“Invitations for the nuptials of The Hon. Miss C and the Hon. Mr. L have gone out, and it seems anyone who matters has been invited to attend. Yes, dear reader, that includes myself! Together, we shall all bear witness to the union born of this year’s biggest scandal—one that didn’t even include the groom! One can only hope that Mr. L isn’t making a terrible mistake by taking such a wanton creature as his bride.”
The London Gossip, October 25, 1819
Weeks passed with Calliope feeling as if she walked about half-dead. The announcement of her engagement and return to London had preceded a whirlwind of preparations and morning callers. She had only been able to shun the visitors for the first week, after which she was determined to stop hiding. People would only talk more, and that was the last thing she wanted. So, with Diana at her side, she spent her mornings entertaining the busybodies who had come to have a look at the future Viscountess Lewes. When she wasn’t doing that, she was in the company of her betrothed.
Martin’s iciness toward her had begun to thaw, and as the events of the house party fell behind them, he became his old self again. Only, Calliope couldn’t bring herself to feel anything toward him other than cordial friendship, and even that had been tainted by the realization that he might have tossed her aside if not for her fortune.
Her father had accompanied them back to London, intending to remain at Hastings House until after the wedding, which would take place in a few short weeks. The banns had been read, her gown was nearly finished, and most importantly of all, she had proof that her night with Dominick had not resulted in conception of a child. Thanks to Diana, she understood that the arrival of her monthly courses meant there was no baby, so she could go on to wed Martin with a clear conscience.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Perhaps she wouldn’t enter her union with an illegitimate child passed off as her husband’s, but she was coming into it with a heart that had not yet accepted its fate. It was easy to forget about Dominick during the day, when she had any number of things to occupy her time. However, the darkness and quiet of night brought it all back to her, and she wondered how she could ever allow Martin to touch her in places only Dominick had been. It felt like the worst sort of betrayal to relive the night Dominick had made love to her, teaching her what it meant to become one with another person, and to fear that she might never feel the same way with Martin. The trouble was, she couldn’t decide who she was betraying.
She saw neither hide nor hair of Dominick when she ventured away from home, which left her feeling oddly bereft. For weeks she had felt as if he was everywhere all the time, his presence making her skin prickle with awareness. Now, that feeling was gone, and Calliope remained numb.
She’d begun to think she would live the rest of her life this way, walking about in a daze and feeling as if her heart had been replaced by a boulder, weighing her down with every step, every breath.
Until the day came for her to return to the foundling home. She had been prepared to skip the meeting and leave the proceedings in Diana’s hands, but her sister had insisted she would be needed.
“Besides,” Diana pointed out, “the other patronesses will only gossip if you are absent. You cannot give them the satisfaction.”
Calliope had no choice but to admit that Diana was right. Until she was married, the best thing to do was pretend as if nothing had happened.
So, she had set off for the home with Diana and Hastings, glad Martin had his own affairs to attend for the afternoon. However, the moment she stepped foot inside the home, she felt it again—that unsettling awareness that tipped her world off its axis.
She faltered, one hand coming up to her throat as she laid eyes on Dominick. He hadn’t noticed her yet, occupied as he was speaking with Thomas—the young boy he had played cards with during their last visit. He was handing something to the lad, his expression somber though he seemed to try to smile for the child’s benefit. Thomas accepted the gift with a grin, bouncing on his feet with excitement. Dominick chuckled, and Calliope nearly dropped to her knees as the sound radiated through her—boisterous and vibrant. She’d never thought to hear it again.
Diana was watching her, her lip clenched between her teeth as she fiddled with her reticule. Calliope couldn’t take her eyes off Dominick, frozen in place when he came to his feet, tousling Thomas’ hair and sending the lad off. The boy dashed away and disappeared around the corner, and it was only then that Dominick turned and spotted her. He tensed, his hand flexing around the other parcel he held in one hand.
Then, he was striding toward her and she could do nothing but stand there and wait. She held her breath, and it almost seemed as if he meant to keep coming, taking her into his arms and stealing her good sense with a kiss. He drew up short at the last moment, and Calliope released her breath on a rush. He stared down at her for a long while, his gaze sweeping up and down the length of her before resting on her face.
“Miss Barrington.” He cut his gaze to her sister and brother-in-law. “Lord and Lady Hastings.”
“What are you doing here?” Calliope blurted, before she could say something else. Something stupid like, ‘I’ve missed you.’ Under no circumstances should she allow those words to fall from her lips.
“When last I was here, I left Thomas my favorite deck of cards. I am rather fond of them, so I thought to trade him for a fresh set. As well … I had business with Mrs. Fisher.”
Before she could ask him what business he was referring to, Diana cleared her throat.
“Callie, dear, Hastings and I will join the others and leave you to speak with Mr. Burke. We will not start without you.”
She widened her eyes, silently begging Diana not to leave her alone with him. Her sister pretended not to notice and took her husband’s arm, then they continued toward the drawing room.
Calliope stared down the yawning passage, too afraid of what she might find when she looked into Nick’s eyes.
“I had thought to leave this with Mrs. Fisher on my way out, but since you are here, I may as well give it to you in person.”
The parcel was extended to her, the brown paper visible on the periphery of her vision. She lifted shaking hands to accept it, concentrating on the twine binding it closed. His hand fell over hers and didn’t pull away, the touch searing down to her marrow.
She sucked in a breath and looked up, finding him watching her with a grim set to his mouth.
“I purchased it in Box Hill, intending to give it to you as … well, it doesn’t matter now. You might consider it a congratulatory gift.”
Her throat was too tight for words, so she simply moved to a small console table and set the package down, pulling at the twine to open it. Her heart thundered, her blood roaring in her ears as she uncovered a flat box and lifted its lid.
Inside was a chatelaine of pure silver, a filigree pattern etched along the brooch. Her lips parted as she ran her fingers over the metal, tracing the delicate chains hanging from the centerpiece, each one holding a different, useful tool. There was a small silver holder for a pencil, a tiny pair of scissors, a watch with a painted scene of a meadow on its face, and a flat silver case that she opened to find stuffed with a neat stack of foolscap.
