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His nostrils flared. “Served you right.”

She shook her head and stopped Preston, who had launched at William on her right side.

“No, Preston,” she said. “I will handle him. You have mistreated me, William,” she said, coming close to his horse, and he flinched back, his eyes widening. “You hurt me. Not just emotionally but physically. But thanks to you, I’m now married to a man who wanted me. Who thought the fact I had that book was exciting. The man I love.”

William shrank into the seat of his horse so much Calliope wondered if he could get any smaller. She quickly looked him over. Could he be the one who had ordered Spencer press-ganged and sent to war? Spencer had beaten him up. Was it, perhaps, revenge William sought? Was he the man with the walrus-ivory walking stick?

But the walking stick he had attached to the saddle of his horse was just a simple mahogany. And he wasn’t brave enough to take such bold action. He went after only those weaker than himself… But she was no longer that little girl.

She didn’t really care to teach him anything. Nor did she need a victory over him. All she cared about was the feeling of freedom she’d looked for ever since that day William had seen her in the library. The feeling she had thought Nathaniel would give her if he confirmed he loved her by supporting her dream.

The feeling she now knew no one could provide but she herself.

That realization was like a ray of sunlight shot straight into her heart. And something expanded inside, like a giant air balloon, growing and growing in her chest, making room for more wonderful feelings.

“Leave now, William,” she said, looking straight into his dark, cowardly eyes. “And do not ever come near me or my family again.”

“Duchess, I still have information—”

“I do not care what you say to anyone, William,” she declared. “My husband knows exactly what you have done. It’s just a matter of a short conversation before I tell everything to everyone who loves me and will stand behind me. Telling more people will only make you appear to be a dirty lecher, looking at young girls. Do you really think there’s anything you still have against me that may be advantageous?”

“You might be strong now, Duchess, but time will tell if this confidence of yours holds.”

As Calliope watched his horse walking down the path, she felt a sense of peace. And she knew the right man would love her for who she was. She didn’t need to prove to Nathaniel the worth of her dream, nor anything else.

A dizzy spell made her sway a little, and the onslaught of nausea made her hand shoot to her mouth. She didn’t manage to hold the contents of her stomach this time but turned and emptied it right on the path. Her family crowded around her, holding her hands, rubbing her back, asking what was wrong, offering her handkerchiefs.

But the only hands she wanted soothing her and rubbing her weren’t there.

She imagined going to call on Nathaniel and telling him how horrible she’d been feeling. How she wished he would just lie in bed with her, cuddling her, whispering soothing words of encouragement. Her nausea would be better, she just knew it.

But he had left her, not the other way around. How could she go to him and risk being hurt like that again?

No. All she could do was continue on and hope that he would be able to set aside his fear one day.

Even though part of her doubted if it was the best thing for the babe that she was going on a transatlantic journey, she told herself she didn’t know for sure she was pregnant. And even if she was, many women had done those journeys countless times and they were fine. She would take money; she would be prepared. Her nausea would subside soon enough.

She was still going to find Spencer.

35

Pain was the only thing that could keep Nathaniel sane.

He’d been at Portside every night since he left Calliope, picking up every fight he could. Even brandy didn’t do much to numb the mental flogging meted out by his own heart.

Where was Calliope? What was she doing? Was she wearing one of the yellow dresses that made her skin and hair glow so beautifully? Did she feel nauseated? Was she tired? Could she eat well?

There wasn’t one moment when she wasn’t on his mind.

Not even the bachelor lodgings on Curzon Street in Mayfair did anything to make him forget her. He’d thought being alone and not knowing Calliope’s every risky move would return the feeling of lightness and fun he’d experienced from time to time in the past ten years. On the contrary, seeing single men come in and out drunk, laughing, sometimes with ladies of questionable reputation on their arms, made him miss the things he had never imagined would bring him happiness.

He missed his wife. He missed his sisters. He missed his dogs.

He even missed that fluffy white monster otherwise known as Miss Furrington who loved to wrap her warm body around his feet during the night as he slept next to Calliope.

He wondered what plan Calliope and her brothers had come up with to locate Spencer and bring him home. No doubt by now they had something in mind.

He was afraid there could still be someone following Calliope and his sisters or watching Roxburgh Place. Unable to stop himself, just like a lurking footpad, he often went to stand behind a tree, watching his own home…which was lunacy. The irony of thinking that word about himself made him cringe…