Page 6 of A Promising Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

Chapter Three

Calliope was careful not to be on the same side of the ballroom as Lord Blakely after that, and she made sure to accept every offer to dance from other gentlemen even if her poor feet might regret it in the morning. But she refused to have another chance for him to mar her spirits, nor to tell her that what she wanted to do wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She was old enough to know her own mind, and it was steering her in the direction of the coast. If nothing else, she could take heart knowing it would keep her far away from his irritating presence.

Even now she could feel his gaze boring into her, and whenever she sought him out in the crowd to offer a glare of disapproval, their eyes clashed with the force of high tide.

At one point, she thought she might gain a reprieve, as a quick scan of the room didn’t produce him. She breathed a sigh of relief, because she could finally quench her parched throat and give her aching feet a much-needed rest. Begging her current partner for a glass of punch, rather than join another dreaded quadrille, she abruptly spied Mr. William Bullock and decided to pay her respects. Although he was a commoner, his popularity with antiquities and the Egyptian Hall had gained him entrée into some of the most prestigious circles in society.

A robust gentleman with a partially bald head and protruding jowls, he was one of the few people Calliope could talk to openly about her interest in prehistoric artifacts, because he was eager to discuss anything that had to do with his life’s work.

As she drew nearer to the few men standing around him, she caught snippets of the conversation. “….could easily turn such a venture into quite a profit. I, myself, might be inclined to fund part of the exhibition, for a share of the proceeds, of course.”

Calliope recognized the gray-haired man with brows as bushy as his sideburns as one of the curators. She had been a frequent visitor to the Hall in recent months, since most of the peerage were still esconsed at their country estates, and she’d had to find a way to fill those long, winter days. She had seen most of the gentleman in attendance there quite frequently.

As Mr. Bullock caught her eye, he smiled politely and inclined his head. “Lady Calliope.”

“Mr. Bullock.” She acknowledged in return, and then nodded to the other men in his circle. “Mr. Sheldon. Lord Timberline. Lord Carter. Mr. Falone.”

The latter lifted a sardonic brow and peered down his hawk shaped nose at her. She had never particularly cared for him, although she learned his patronage was rather important, so for that reason she remained civil. Although it was obvious he was quite antiquated in his notions of independent females. His next statement proved just that. “I suppose we should cease any further business discussions, as I’m sure it would be a rather dreary chat for a lady’s ears.”

Calliope smiled broadly. “Not at all, Mr. Falone.” She turned to Mr. Sheldon who had been speaking when she arrived. “Could you have been referring to the silver mines in Mexico, perhaps?”

His lips twitched as if he was trying not to smile. “Indeed, my lady. You are very astute.”

“Not really in this case,” she countered. “I merely saw the collection for myself and spoke with Mr. Bullock about his possible return in a few years.”

“You have a very adept memory, Lady Calliope,” Mr. Bullock noted with something like pride in his voice. But then, he had never treated her as if she were lacking. She might like to be dressed in the height of fashion, but it didn’t mean the rest of her mind was filled with empty fluff.

“I applaud your sisters’ recent marriages,” Mr. Falone said in a particularly nasally voice. “I’m sure you do as well. Perhaps you might consider your own future and settle down in good time.”

“Actually…” She glanced around at each man in turn, before turning her attention back on her current rival. “I have decided to embark on an adventure of my own. I’m going to dig for fossils in Lyme Regis where Mr. Bullock acquired his impressive prehistoric skull.”

Mr. Falone sniffed in obvious distaste. “Really, Lady Calliope, do you truly think you might succeed in unearthing something so extraordinary by yourself?”

“And why shouldn’t she?”

As that familiar male voice entered the fray from behind her, she stiffened slightly. Lord Blakely moved to stand beside her. She half expected him to have that wayward smirk on his face, but his attention was fixated on the man who was doing his best to bait her into an argument.

Seeing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Calliope, the scholar tried to reason with the viscount. “Surely you can agree that women ought to know their place, which is at their husband’s side, just as God intended.”

“Indeed,” The viscount nodded slowly, as if seeing the logic in his comments. “Unfortunately, I fear I shall have to disagree on that matter, as I believe that Lady Calliope shall prove to everyone just how determined she is in her endeavor. She’s already shown you her mettle in not bowing down to a forced marriage that could only result in unpleasant circumstances for both parties. In my opinion, I believe that is more commendable than a full nursery.”

Silence followed his announcement, and although Mr. Falone looked as though he might start screeching aloud at any moment, he never got the chance, for Lord Carter clapped his hands. “Well said, Lord Blakely.”

The other men murmured their agreement, and that’s when the viscount turned those dark eyes upon her. In an aside to her alone, he said, “Surely coming to your aid gives me the right to have the supper dance.”

Calliope lifted a brow, but reluctantly accepted his arm. “I didn’t ask to be rescued, my lord. There was no need for you to come charging into the fray with your sword drawn.”

“Perhaps not,” he concurred as they walked away from the group. “But you can’t deny it was rather dashing of me to do so.”

Against her will, a laugh escaped her. She rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat. “Very well. I will concede this battle to you.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said softly. “That victory only draws me closer to winning the war.”

Sebastian realized, in that moment, that he could spend a lifetime looking into those mesmerizing green eyes and listen to the sound of that genuine laugh all the remaining days of his life. Of course, nothing would ever come of it, as he had promised himself long ago that he wasn’t the marrying kind. But if there was one lady who might come close to leading him to the altar, it was Lady Calliope Bevelstroke.

When it was announced that a waltz would be the last dance before supper, Sebastian couldn’t believe his good fortune. It would give him a chance to hold Calliope closer than that blasted quadrille that kept separating them. This time, she would be solely his.

As they took their position, he gathered her close, bordering on impropriety. It would be worth any wagging tongues just to hear the slight catch to her breath.

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