Page 3 of A Promising Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

Chapter Two

Calliope sat at her dressing table in her chamber and doublechecked her appearance in the mirror. She turned her head one way and then the other, smiling at the light as it glinted off her diamond, teardrop earbobs. Her hair had been styled neatly on top of her head in an elegant chignon, thanks to her maid’s efforts, and the dark purple, satin gown she wore complimented the fiery tresses. Complete with elbow length white gloves and an outlandish yellow and plum ostrich plume fan, she decided that she was ready to tackle her first big, official event of the Season.

She had heard that the invitations to the Langston Ball each year were quite coveted for their importance in opening the rest of London to the social whirl of the nobility. Calliope wished that all her sisters had been here to share in this glorious event, but she was grateful for at least one.

However, as she descended the staircase and spied Isadora with her usual, stern expression, she couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. She would have had a marvelous time flirting had Olivia been at her side. As the two youngest Bevelstroke women, they had many similar interests, and while Livy had been reserved, Calliope more than made up for it with her boisterous temperament. Araminta would say that she was a bit too bold, but other than a slightly chastising look, she generally just rolled her eyes and said little.

Isadora, on the other hand…

She was just so severe, that it was difficult for anyone to approach her, fearing they would be shredded to ribbons by a sharp tongue. While Isadora could be sharp at times, she was a proper lady if there ever was one, and quite intelligent. This, Calliope knew, caused many men to give her a wide berth because she was not ashamed to prove her wit.

In that respect, they were quite the same, for Calliope had never really cared for others’ opinions. It was why an excursion at the seaside village of Lyme Regis and digging for prehistoric fossils to make a name for herself as a female scientist was becoming more and more appealing.

She might have even decided to leave for the seaside before the Langston Ball if there wasn’t one slight impediment…

She clenched her fists and quickly shut that thought process down. If there was one individual she would not bring to mind this evening, it was that scandalous libertine. Viscount Blakely had been devoted in his pursuit of her for the past few months, ever since she had arrived in London with her sisters. However, it didn’t take long for her to discern his rakish ways. His bold assessment of her whenever they were in the same vicinity, and that sly twist to his lips was enough proof of his character, without even hearing a word of gossip. If he wasn’t good friends with Lord Somers, Araminta’s husband, she might have discounted him immediately, but proper manners insisted that she converse with him, but she vowed it would be only briefly.

Calliope brought her attention to the present and paused before Isadora. She crossed her arms. “Could you at least try to smile? It looks as if you sucked on a ripe persimmon.”

Isadora lifted a dark brow and pierced her with a tolerant look Calliope knew all too well. “How about you just get into the carriage?”

Calliope merely rolled her eyes and headed outside.

The night still carried a slight chill, although the days were starting to warm and become rather pleasant, if not for the usual English rain that soaked the green covered hills around them. Calliope much preferred the grandeur of town, although there was more refuse in her path from the crowded carriages and soot covered most everything in sight. She enjoyed the flickering flames of the gaslights lining the streets and the sound of the horses’ hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones. She loved the shops on Bond Street and stopping by Gunther’s for a sweet ice. Although Hatchard’s wasn’t as preferrable, the bookshop was something Olivia would have preferred, it was nice to know that if she wanted to read, there was someplace available for the latest editions that were printed.

The papers were another thing that Calliope appreciated. From the latest fashion plates on display in Paris, to the gossip spreading amongst the ton, she absorbed every word. Generally, by the time news had reached Marlington Hall in Canterbury when she’d been growing up, the excitement had already settled down and something else had taken its place.

Now, here she was, in the midst of it all and having a grand time.

It did make things appear rather ironic that she should be considering a coastal retreat that would remove her from the center of such activity. While she preferred to look at her time by the sea as a temporary opportunity until she returned to London, she did hope she might do so with a celebrated find in tow.

Anticipation for that moment was pulsing through her veins, so that when the carriage pulled up in front of the stately townhouse, Calliope tapped her foot impatiently for the footman to open her door. She yearned to jump down to the ground on her own, but she managed to refrain. But as soon as she had touched solid ground, she was heading for the entrance.

“Callie!” Isadora’s admonishing hiss came from behind her, but Calliope ignored it, and made haste. She was sailing above the clouds tonight, dreams coursing through her veins and there was nothing that could possibly mar her current happiness.

Handing her wrap over to a waiting footman, Calliope pasted a bright smile on her face and waited for Isadora to join her in the receiving line. Her sister arrived with a rather pursed expression. “Do you find it necessary to act like a hoyden at all times?” she snapped. “You might have waited for me.” She pulled on her glove in agitation, although there was no danger of it slipping down her arm. Calliope angled her head to the side and studied Isadora for a moment. With her dark brown hair piled neatly on top of her head and her gray eyes flashing with irritation, she could easily take the men of the ton by storm if she wished. Even though she was considered ‘on the shelf’ at eight and twenty, there was a keen glint in Isa’s eyes that could be rather enticing.

And gold truly was her color.

Perhaps someday Isa might find someone who caused her heart to flutter, but it would have to be a special man, indeed.

Not wishing to quarrel, Calliope took her sister’s hand. “I do apologize, Isa. I was just feeling the need to loosen my inhibitions for a moment,” she teased, but her sister didn’t share in the jest, although she did relent slightly.

“Well, do try to comport yourself more properly this evening,” she chided. “If you can manage it.”

“I shall do my upmost to cater to your delicate sensibilities, dear sister,” Calliope said with a smirk, and as she turned around to greet her host and hostess of the evening, she thought she heard a slight snort behind her.

“This is torture. No, I take that back. I daresay it’s worse. I should rather be on the rack.”

Lord Blakely turned to Remington Fletcher, the Marquess of Osgood, with a grin. “Come now, Rem. Just look at the sea of delights around us—” He waved a dramatic hand to indicate a gaggle of debutantes giggling over their fans and looking like a bevy of vultures prepared to peck at the pair of them like a fleshy carcass. “Surely there can be nothing more appealing than that.”

The marquess looked at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses. But then his broad grin must have registered. His companion gave a snort. “Trust me, as dangerous as it is to oversee the construction of a railway, it is less treacherous than being in the middle of a society ballroom during the height of the Season.” He sighed heavily. “Alas, my niece failed to procure a husband over the holidays, so I am forced to endure such ridiculousness for my mother’s sake. She has retired to Bath to take the waters, leaving me to escort Portia about the city when I would much rather be in the country riding the stallion I recently acquired from Grey.”

Sebastian threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, Grey did mention that you’d managed to select one of his finest mounts due to some sort of wager.”

“His loss turned out to be my gain,” Remington said without a touch of guilt. “He asked me to distract Lady Isadora while he courted her sister and so I did.”

“Yes,” Seb murmured with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “I imagine it was quite the hardship for you. I noticed the way you looked at the eldest Bevelstroke gel.”

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