Page 27 of A Promising Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

“A temporary error in judgement, nothing more.”

He laughed. “If that’s what you believe, then by all means, keep lying to yourself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t come here to discuss that… kiss.” She practically hissed the word. “It’s inconsequential.”

He tapped a finger on the side of his mug. He had yet to take a single drink. But neither had she consumed a drop. “Then why are you here? To order me to return to London tomorrow?”

“I’m not quite so insensitive,” she returned irritably. “I was hoping that we might be able to push our differences aside and make amends.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” she demanded.

His eyes glittered. “Because it will merely complicate things further.”

She frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand your reasoning.” She tried a different approach. “I wanted us to be friends—”

He snorted. “It’s a nice thought, to be sure.” He stood up and reached into his jacket. He tossed down a few coins onto the table, and then he laid his palms flat on the wooden surface. Leaning down until his face was in direct line to hers, Calliope abruptly quit breathing. Heat flared to life in her midsection, and her veins coursed with the same vigor from the day before. “Go back to your fossil search, Lady Calliope, and take heart in the fact that my exploits will be directed elsewhere.”

With that, he turned and climbed the stairs to his rooms.

Calliope did her best to try to do as the viscount suggested and pretend that he wasn’t in the same vicinity, but when she made her way down to the shore the next morning to join Mary, her skin kept prickling with awareness. However, when she turned around, nothing was there. She was alone.

She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge, other than the fact she kept anticipating Lord Blakely to appear when she least expected it. He had slid into her path more than once in London and she supposed she had grown accustomed to his presence.

Nevertheless, she ignored the annoying buzz in her head as she combed the sand for new discoveries. She focused all her conscious attention on her quest, but each day she returned to her rooms empty handed. This went on for nearly a fortnight, and each day when she went back to the hotel with nothing to show for her efforts, discouraged and disheartened, she found her attentions lingering on the Three Cups. She had started to take her tea by the window that overlooked the establishment, in the hopes that she might catch a glimpse of that sandy head striding along the street.

She realized that she was bordering on the obsessed with her need to see Lord Blakely. She had never been this set on a gentleman before, and whereas he had frustrated her so effortlessly before, it made her wonder what had caused those roles to become reversed. She certainly preferred things as they had been.

Now, she was miserable.

Calliope wondered if she shouldn’t leave Lyme Regis and seek out her fortunes elsewhere. Surely there were other beaches along England’s coast that were just as rich in fossils as Lyme Regis. Magnificent cliffs bordered much of the land, so perhaps it was time to try her luck at another village.

It was enough to make her want to burst into tears, and Calliope generally never gave in to such a raw emotion. She much preferred to laugh and enjoy the little things that life had to offer. Unfortunately, of late, the things she had once taken pleasure in were starting to fade in the face of her failures.

At that moment, her maid burst through the front door. She was waving a paper in the air excitedly. “There’s to be a soiree this Friday at the local assembly rooms!”

Some of Calliope’s doldrums started to dissipate. “Is there?”

“Yes!” The servant returned excitedly. “I knew it would be just the thing to cheer you up.”

“I have been considering conducting a new search for independence,” Calliope sighed heavily.

Her maid offered a kind smile. “Was this journey truly for independence, my lady, or to prove to yourself it could be done?”

“A bit of both, I suppose.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. If I can’t locate one single ammonite on a beach littered with them, then it may be time to reconsider my options.”

“At least you can have a bit of fun before you decide to do anything rash,” the girl returned pointedly.

“Spoken with perfect reason, just like Isadora,” she drawled.

Emma looked at her almost sheepishly. “Would it make any difference if I told you this soiree was in celebration of the viscount?”

“What are you talking about?” Calliope immediately sat up straighter and snatched the invitation from her maid’s hand. She quickly scanned the contents. “The entire town wishes to acknowledge him for his generous donation.” She pinned the servant with a glare. “I thought he was here for his grandfather, not to be a hero.”

“I suppose he’s found time to do both.”

Calliope slapped the paper back into her maid’s grasp. “Really, Emma. Who can I count on here, but you? I can’t believe that you withheld such valuable information from me. Do you not know me at all?”

---