Page 23 of A Promising Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

He had his hands clasped behind his back and a dark expression had fallen over his face. Instead of replying to her query directly, he asked, “Might I ask a personal question?” After she had agreed, he added, “How did your mother die?”

“Oh.” Although the question wasn’t what she’d been expecting, she was relieved that he wasn’t approaching her about their interlude the night before. “She perished when I was six months old from a weak heart. Father said that she suffered a difficult birth and never fully recovered.”

He shoved a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. “I’m not much for sentimentality. Either way, it’s difficult to mourn someone I didn’t truly know.”

He nodded his understanding. “What about your sisters? What happened to their mothers?”

Calliope wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was coming from, but since it wasn’t a secret, she shared their outcome as well. “Isa’s mother died a year after she was born from a fall from her horse. It broke her neck. Minty’s mother died from fever when she turned three, and Olivia’s mother died upon the birthing bed. It’s a miracle that Livy even survived.” As the viscount seemed to hang on to her every word, a frisson of alarm trailed up her spine, causing her to wonder, “Why do you ask?”

He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck almost guiltily. “My grandfather mentioned something about the duke before I left and…”

His words faded away, but she didn’t have any trouble reading between the lines. She stiffened her spine. “So, you just wanted to know if the rumors surrounding the ‘Black Widower’ were true. Is that it?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought as one of Grey’s closest friends you might have a bit more empathy when it comes to the gossipmongers, but I see you aren’t any different from the rest.”

Infuriated, she started to walk away, but he called her name. “Callie, wait!”

She paused, but only because he’d used her nickname. Whenever she heard it, she thought of her sisters, so perhaps she was a bit more nostalgic than she’d believed after all.

He reached her side. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to infer something unsavory had taken place.” He sighed heavily. “To be honest, I’ve always been eager to know the truth.”

Some of her anger abated. “I suppose I can’t fault you for that. At least you came to me instead of accepting the idle speculation about what happened. Trust me, you wouldn’t have been the first who wanted to believe my father was capable of disposing of his wives.” She lifted an accusatory brow.

He sobered. “I don’t wish for you to get a bad impression of the marquess. After my parents died, he stepped into the role of father figure. It’s true that he can be a bit rough around the edges, but he’s all the family I have left.”

Calliope dared to voice the question uppermost in her mind. “What happened to your mother and father?”

His lips twisted. “I’m surprised no one in London has apprised you of my dark history yet.”

“Unlike your grandfather, I prefer not to listen to idle chit chat. And while I might peruse the gossip columns, I don’t put much faith in them. Either way, you might be surprised to learn that I haven’t heard anything about your family. I didn’t even know you had a grandfather until I met him in person on this very beach. The only caution I received was about you.”

“Then you would be one of the few,” he returned almost bitterly. “For while talk subdues over time, there’s not many who are likely to forget a scandalous indiscretion that resulted in murder.”

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