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“Grandhampton, I assure you—”
“Unless she wants you,” he said strictly, but there was an undertone of softness in his voice. “Unless I know there’s a chance for her happiness in this match.”
Nathaniel swallowed. The glimmer of hope was too small and fragile, but it was there. “There is. I think highly of Lady Calliope and have every intention to ensure her happiness.”
Preston marched to the door and stormed out of it. In the distance, Nathaniel heard him asking for Penelope and Calliope to come with him.
When Lady Calliope and the duchess came in, Nathaniel’s gaze locked with Calliope’s. She eyed him and her brother carefully and with concern.
“What were you thinking about, sister? You refuse Huntingham, a perfectly respectable gentleman with a sizeable fortune, and instead you wish to marry the most notorious rake in London who has not a penny to his name? Do you seriously think a man like that deserves you and will make you happy?”
Preston was right. Nathaniel wouldn’t approve if Hazel were to pick a man like him one day.
And yet, his breath caught as he awaited Calliope’s response.
Calliope squared her shoulders and looked at her brother with calm authority. “I appreciate your concern, Preston. Kelford is the right man for me, and I have every belief he will make me happy.” Her eyes, the color of the sea, locked with Nathaniel’s and something light and wonderful spread through his whole body. “This match is what I want, and I wish for you, brother, to agree to it.”
Preston grimaced as he looked at his wife. The duchess came to him and touched his hand. “If your concern is Calliope’s happiness, you need to think about our story, yours and mine. We never thought we’d be happy in the beginning, but look at us now.”
Preston seemed to melt a little, softness touching his hard eyes. What was their story? Nathaniel wondered.
Finally, Preston turned to his sister. “Calliope,” he said calmly and slowly, “is this really what you want?”
Calliope nodded curtly, her back and neck as straight as a bow. “It is.”
Preston sighed deeply and met Nathaniel’s gaze. “Then, under two conditions, I give you my permission. First, you may not touch Calliope’s money. She will have a sizeable dowry, but I will make sure the contract states it stays under her control completely.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Fair enough. As I said, I am not after her money.”
“Good. Two, if you betray her or make a single minute of her life unhappy, I will find you, and I will make you sorry.”
With relief lightening his whole body, Nathaniel nodded. “I would do the same to the men who’d dare to marry my sisters.”
8
The next day, Calliope descended the stairs of Sumhall into a bright morning. Grosvenor Street was lined with elegant Georgian town houses, their red brick facades accented with white Portland stone, and their sash windows gleamed as they caught the sun’s light.
The street itself was bustling with activity as tradesmen and servants began their daily tasks. Coal merchants delivered their wares to the kitchens of the grand homes, their horses’ hooves clopping rhythmically against the cobblestones. A milkmaid in a neat white apron balanced a pail of fresh milk on her shoulder. In the well-tended gardens behind the town houses, the air was full with the scent of roses and lavender. Leaves rustled and birds sang.
Fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen emerged from their homes, perhaps to embark on a leisurely stroll in Hyde Park or attend a morning social event. The ladies were dressed in their finest muslin gowns. Their bonnets, adorned with silk ribbons and fresh flowers, fluttered in the soft breeze. The gentlemen were resplendent in their tailored waistcoats, well-cut breeches, and shining Hessian boots.
But all that splendor and beauty of the summer morning didn’t compare to how her stomach squeezed in excitement at the sight of the simple gig in front of the house and the dashing gentleman in his navy uniform waiting for her.
Now that Calliope and Nathaniel were engaged, they were allowed to appear alone in public, even though they still needed to ride in an open gig to ensure propriety. This meant they could go to the Admiralty together.
As she descended the stairs, he hopped down from the driver’s seat. The gig had seen better days, with black paint chipping off the shiny doors and cracked wood peering through. The Kelford coat of arms was in need of a good layer of gilt paint. As Nathaniel stood before her, tall and handsome, her heart pounded hard in her chest. He was so breathtaking in his uniform. All tall and broad-shouldered. Long blond hair. Turquoise eyes. Golden skin…
The devil himself couldn’t look more handsome.
“Lady Calliope,” he said with a wicked grin. “Still no umbrella, I see.”
She hid her smile while biting her lip. “I guess it’s hard to find something that didn’t exist in the first place.”
“Hm,” he said as he looked her over with male appreciation. “I do think you need to wear more things that are invisible.”
Her face lit up to the roots of her hair, and a wave of heat rushed through her. She stood speechless, unable to find a single word of reply. There was a heat in his gaze, but she knew better than to think he really wanted her. Most likely, this was some sort of a jest, some reference to her sexuality that she didn’t understand.
Embarrassment chained her from head to toe. How could she ever share his bed and try to conceive his heir when the only thing she knew of men was how embarrassing they considered her? How filthy it was for a young girl to explore and think about what went on between a man and a woman in bed?
