Page 1 of A Promising Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

Chapter One

London, England

April 1824

“Men are so annoying.”

Lady Calliope Bevelstroke rolled her eyes as another bouquet arrived to fill the townhouse with its strong, floral fragrance. She wondered if the gentleman of society competed for whoever could send the most overwhelming blossoms.

“Callie, please, do try to sit like the daughter of a duke.”

With a heavy sigh, Calliope turned from her sideways position in the chair and settled her skirts in front of her, as her slippered feet touched the floor. “Of course, Isa. I should so hate to be a disappointment amongst the ton.”

Her eldest sister, Isadora, had been reading the paper, but now she slapped it into her lap and glared at her with firm, gray eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a perfect chignon, her clothes neatly pressed. But then, Calliope didn’t know a time when Isadora hadn’t been properly put together. Even when she was cross, she seldom lost her temper. In truth, she was quite… emotionless, but that didn’t mean Calliope didn’t love her deeply, or that her sister didn’t care for her.

“We might be the unofficial diamonds of the season, but when you are on the top of the world there is nowhere else to go but…” She slid her gaze to the floor and lifted a brow, letting Calliope figure the rest out on her own.

She sniffed and gave a toss of her fiery red hair. “Oh, don’t be such a stick, Isa. You know that I always act with decorum, while our dear sisters, on the other hand…” She mirrored her sister’s expression.

Isa sighed heavily. “Might I remind you that Araminta is happily married to the Earl of Somers, while Olivia is a duchess?”

“Indeed,” Calliope nodded. “I was present for the double ceremony. And yet, you would chide me for my behavior in this chair when Minty dared to sneak out and meet Grey on Scandal Lane and Livy ran away from London to Canterbury without a proper chaperone.”

“They were fortunate not to have to suffer the consequences of their actions,” Isa returned in the same even tone. “But you may not be so lucky when it comes to being the target of the malicious gossip of the city. Rumors can easily destroy a young lady’s reputation, which would be regrettable if you hope to become a woman of independent means, as you claim.”

Calliope held out her hand and inspected her neatly trimmed nails. “I never thought I should like to be someone who enjoyed digging in the dirt looking for old bones—”

“I believe they are called fossils,” Isadora chimed in dryly, but Calliope ignored her.

“—but I daresay that the Egyptian Hall has many intriguing artifacts and curiosities that I should like to explore further.” Her smile widened. “Can’t you just imagine it? Me? A famous adventurer, known throughout the world!” She held her arms up as the headline was already being waved about in her imagination.

“You do have rather… high expectations,” Isadora said with a wry twist of her lips. “It shall be difficult enough to be recognized as a lady in a masculine dominated society, but if you succeed, I have no doubt you shall do so with flair.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But then, I suppose I would be quite hypocritical if I said I didn’t intend to do the same, although my aspirations have more to do with industry.”

“Ah, yes,” Calliope said thoughtfully. “Your railroad venture. I had nearly forgotten. That sounds terribly boring. Are you sure you wouldn’t wish to become a heroine and set out on a twenty-mile journey like Laura Secord in order to warn the British forces in Canada of an impending attack from the Americas?”

Isadora rolled her eyes. “I have no interest in embarking on such a harrowing journey through the wilderness to be remembered for my heroics. I should rather be noted for my industrious nature.” She got to her feet and tossed the paper aside.

Calliope lifted a brow. “Going for a walk?” she teased.

“Yes,” Isa snapped. “Although it looks like it could rain, I daresay it’s better than spending any more time with you and your ridiculous chatter.”

She gave a sniff of disgust then quit the room, but Calliope knew she wasn’t truly upset, because her oldest sister seldom got disconcerted about anything. There was only one time when she’d witnessed Isadora lose her composure. A sapphire ring had been found in their father’s desk at his former estate, Marlington Hall, and when it was revealed that he had intended to take another wife before his untimely death, it was obvious that his secrecy surrounding those plans had bothered her. Isa had been the only one who knew about it. She had discovered the jeweler’s receipt when she had been assisting their father with the estate ledgers. Calliope still didn’t know the reasons behind her obvious distress at the time, whether it was because she had been asked to keep such a revelation from the rest of her sisters, or if was for more personal reasons.

The former Duke of Marlington had been known as the ‘Black Widower,’ because he had married four different women who had perished under various, but equally tragic circumstances. None of the half-sisters had ever known their prospective mothers, except through an artist’s eyes in the portrait gallery.

Isadora’s mother died when her daughter was just a year old after a fall from a horse, Araminta’s from fever the year her daughter had turned three, and Olivia’s from childbirth, a fact that made the youngest Bevelstroke sister quite uncertain about marrying Miles, the Duke of Gravesend, who also happened to be their father’s sole heir. However, at Olivia’s behest, he continued to use the Gravesend title, rather than Marlington. Calliope wasn’t certain what he intended to do about the estate and the title, if he would continue to hold possession over both of the familial lines, or if perhaps he might request a Royal prerogative and allow the Marlington dukedom to revert to the Crown.

Calliope didn’t care either way. She had never been as sentimental as her younger sister. Although she had loved her father dearly, she knew there was nothing she could do to change the past, nor what was gone. She had lamented the absence of her mother for a brief time when she’d been younger, the lady dying from a weak heart when Calliope was just six months old. However, it was difficult to miss that which had never truly been there. She wasn’t old enough to remember her mother, merely the prospect, but with compassion and guidance, she had quickly come to realize that the things which truly mattered in life was love and family, and she had that in abundance because of her sisters. Now that Livy and Minty were wed, that circle was starting to grow once again.

Calliope blew out a heavy breath. Unfortunately, without Olivia around, she was feeling rather lonely. They were the youngest siblings, and at nearly three and twenty, they had shared the most confidences. However, this also opened the door to new opportunities to set out on her own. Calliope was ready to take charge of her life and perhaps even travel the world, if she was so inclined. Their father had left them each a generous dowry, that if not handed over to their husband upon their marriage, was the perfect way to make a fresh start, perhaps even somewhere new.

While she loved England and didn’t plan to leave, she had considered different possibilities for her future, including a temporary visit to her father’s hunting box in Broxbourne. Then again, when she considered visiting Lyme Regis and searching for prehistoric fossils along the coastal cliffs, it did sound rather appealing, especially after she’d saw the Ichthyosaurus platyodon, the latest item of interest in William Bullock’s collection.

Not to mention that a visit to a seaside village sounded terribly delightful, now that the weather was starting to get a bit warmer.

She further pondered the prospect as she left the parlor, giving one of the flower petals from her latest admirer a flick of her fingers and dismissing the card completely. No doubt it had some sort of empty flattery written upon it. She sighed, for although she did like the attention from the opposite sex, gentlemen truly didn’t have a clue when it came to courting. Not all ladies preferred to be wooed in the same, boring fashion.

Didn’t it mean anything to actually know what the woman liked if he was hoping to win her hand?

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