Chapter 25

25

“Well,”said Calliope’s grandmother two days later as she stroked the white feline menace on her lap and looked around the sitting room. “I like this change.”

Nathaniel felt a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance. To all devils, the sitting room looked gorgeous. New windows with fresh paint. Smooth walls of a turquoise color made the space feel warm and sunny. Yellow curtains with a cheerful floral pattern. Fresh flowers in vases. Paintings on the walls. Undamaged furniture that made him think of Mama and how good the house used to look, how much care she used to take maintaining it.

Yesterday, footmen from Sumhall had brought in several chairs, more sideboards, a pianoforte, and a new sofa. Calliope had assured him she had borrowed them from Sumhall and would return everything once he could buy his own furniture.

Calliope sat with a cup of tea, quite pleased with herself. Even his sisters, who sat drinking tea with them, looked cared for, with fashionable hairstyles and in new frocks. They even sat straighter and were quieter. He understood—it was hard to misbehave and not feel the cold stare of the dowager duchess on one’s skin…

But when had they started to look like proper little ladies?

But it wasn’t just the external things. His own clothes were regularly washed and smelled better. With the cook Calliope had brought in from Sumhall, food tasted better and had more variety. And Mrs. Nicholson had more time to take care of laundry and other housekeeping duties. His sisters had more books, and Calliope had placed an advertisement for a governess for the twins.

He had grumbled with her about all of it, but at least she’d had the decency to ask him first. And when she did, he didn’t have the heart to refuse. How could he be so cruel as to say no to a better education and better food for his sisters?

So, begrudgingly, he’d agreed, even if it did mean Calliope spending her own money.

For the first time since Mama died, Roxburgh felt like home.

“Yes,” said Calliope as she smiled at Nathaniel. “It has such a great potential. I quite love this house.”

Love…

The word made a dark unease move within him. He’d never wanted to feel anything for her in the first place. She was just a means to an end. A wife to give him an heir.

But she’d become so much more. He felt so much for her…and it terrified him.

“Well, it certainly has the right bones to be a duchess’s residence, doesn’t it?” said the dowager as she stroked Miss Furrington.

“It does,” said Calliope, her eyes still on Nathaniel, making his very bones melt. “I trust it will be in its full glory again one day.”

Trust…

Another word that burned him like flames.

He wanted to trust her, and he knew if he did, happiness would be in his reach. As Calliope’s eyes connected with his again, his goddamn heart softened and drooped like warm wax.

Once they found Spencer, this danger would be done with. And then they’d just be happy together.

Even if she’d never get pregnant and he’d lose his vast wealth to the crown, he’d have her. He’d have his sisters. What else would he need?

“I can just see it,” the dowager said as she looked around. “The grandeur of it. The ceilings. The light. The location. And look at the moldings. Just gorgeous.” She winked at Calliope. “And plenty of space for the next generation to play.”

Nathaniel’s gaze dropped to Calliope’s stomach as her face went scarlet. The thought of a baby was both a thrill of joy and a tug of dread in his gut. They couldn’t know yet if she was pregnant, although it was possible. She could be carrying his child…

And he allowed her to carry a gun; he allowed her to box; he actually took her to Portside! What was he thinking? She was changing him, had him wrapped around her finger, his beautiful little fox.

“Well done, Kelford,” said the dowager to him.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t given much choice.”

“Well, that may be true, but I can see how happy you make my only granddaughter,” she said enthusiastically. “And that is all I’ve ever wished for any of my grandchildren.”

Her gaze went to Hazel, Poppy, and Violet. “Now, now.” She cocked one eyebrow. “What shall we do with you three? Kelford, I know this Season is almost over, but what would you say if we took Hazel out?”

The three gasps that came from his sisters were a combination of enthusiasm, envy, and shock.

Nathaniel sat up in his chair. “Pardon me?” he barked.

“I think Hazel is ready,” said the dowager innocently. “It’s perhaps a little too early for you two,” she said to the twins with a kind smile. “But Hazel is seventeen.”

Nathaniel’s whole body was ablaze momentarily at the thought of horny sons of marquesses, earls, and viscounts looking at his sister with anything but wonder and adoration. He knew what it was to be a young man in their position, what went through their minds, and hated the idea of them thinking anything of Hazel. His smart, rebellious, pretty sister whom he’d protected his entire life.

“I don’t think she is,” he said, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the teacup so tightly he was afraid it was going to break.

“I am, brother,” said Hazel, straightening her back, then licking her lips. “Not that I care whether I come out this year or the next.”

Calliope exchanged a long look with her grandmama.

“Coming out doesn’t mean she’ll have to marry right away,” said Calliope.

“Nor that I want to marry at all,” said Hazel.

“I’m sure you will, love,” said the dowager, “at some point in the future. Not right away, of course. It merely means you’re showing who you are and that you are on the marriage mart.”

“But she isn’t on the marriage mart at all,” said Nathaniel. “She doesn’t even have a dowry yet.”

Because her dowry, just as the dowries of the twins and his own income, were all dependent on the inheritance that was still out of his reach.

“She doesn’t need a dowry to be on the mart,” said the dowager, and her sly eyes moved to Hazel. “Do you, darling?”

All this time, Hazel had been his young sister, a little girl to protect and shield. The little face he’d seen through the window of the carriage staring at him and their dead mother, wide-eyed. He was sure she didn’t remember any of those events that night. She would have told him if she did.

But now, coming out, declaring to the whole world she was a young woman grown enough to marry?

Most of the men who were open for wives would never love them. The thought of someone marrying an amazing young woman like Hazel and not appreciating what a treasure they held made him sick. Made him want to crush something and hit someone.

“I don’t mind,” said Hazel with a falsely indifferent shrug. “I never even wanted to go out to balls and such.”

“Oh, you did, Hazel!” declared Poppy. “You very much did! Don’t you lie!”

Hazel gasped, and the dowager and Calliope suppressed amused smiles.

“I did not!” declared Hazel very loudly.

“Darling, your tone,” reminded the dowager.

Hazel’s face went as red as a beetroot. She put her needlework down, breathing hard. “I remember. And yet, this is another example of why I shouldn’t be allowed to come out yet. No one has taught us how to be like you, Lady Grandhampton, or how to be like Calliope. We’ve been all alone, the three of us, living in Mayfair and yet so isolated from the very essence of the place. Every morning and night, I watch carriages picking up our well-dressed neighbors. Taking them to balls. To soirées. Sometimes they host events right there, and then I see all of them among the beautiful people they know and I…”

She sniffed, and Nathaniel’s heart broke as he saw she was fighting back tears.

“And I’m not one of them,” Hazel finished.

It was his fault. It was all his fault. She wasn’t one of them because he’d failed to provide her with the means and connections and resources to lead the life she deserved.

“Oh, Hazel, but you are.” Calliope laid her hand on top of his sister’s. “You’ve always been. Whether you have a frock or not, whether you pick up the right fork, or not, it doesn’t matter. You choose your own path, darling. You define where you want to be, who you want to see and who you don’t.”

“Of course…” he croaked.

The image of someone like that damned William King being as nasty to Hazel as he was to Calliope made Nathaniel writhe with anger. He was losing control. And losing control meant being unable to ensure their safety. Their well-being.

As Hazel grinned at him, her excitement and joy broke his heart. How could he entrust her to another man? What if someone hurt her? The more she was out, the more chances someone nasty would take a liking to her, and he wouldn’t be there to make sure she was protected.

He felt his resolve to be a better man crumbling and his instinct to hide everyone he loved in this world taking over. Even if they’d hate him forever, at least they’d be alive.

But no. He was not a caveman. He was a duke. A rational man. A civilized man. He’d be there for Hazel and make sure no one offended her.

Even if he felt like he was about to go completely mad, trying to ensure all the females in his life were safe…