Chapter 34

34

Three weeks later…

Hyde Park was far too hot for Calliope… The sun shone too brightly, frying her skin under her light muslin gown and petticoats. The vast, open meadows were slightly yellow after the heat of the past ten days. The breeze, which Jane had called pleasant, was far too faint for Calliope as she walked along the gravel path, refusing to succumb to the weakness that had taken over every inch of her body.

The shouts of children running around in a shadowy grove sounded too loud, the crunch of gravel almost hurt her ears. Her sense of scent drove her mad, overwhelming her with the odors of horse manure, roses, Adam’s needle, dahlias, and grass.

In front of them, Calliope’s brothers conversed with Poppy and Violet, who were leading Orion and Cerberus. A bit behind them, Hazel accompanied Grandmama. Richard would be departing on a ship in a few days, heading for America to search for Spencer.

What not a soul from her family knew was that Calliope was going on that ship as well. She had to finish this and save her brother who had saved her when she needed him most.

But also…the urge to run from the pain left by Nathaniel’s rejection, by him leaving her, was too much. She needed to distract herself, to do something active. She couldn’t stay and show him how much he’d truly hurt her. She couldn’t give in and lower her walls for him, show him her underbelly just to get another blow.

No matter how much she wished it, she could not return to the night of stars and irises when they both bared themselves, and not just physically.

The entire procession was concluded by four footmen who walked behind Calliope and the ladies. Before Nathaniel had left the house, he’d ordered the footmen Calliope had previously hired to always follow her whenever she went out. She didn’t fight him on that. She simply had no energy to do so. She knew he needed to make sure his heir, and therefore Calliope, would be safe.

Even though their romantic relationship had ended, she would still be his wife and the mother of his child.

“Are you all right, Calliope?” asked Jane. Hercules, her foxhound, happily trotted in front of her on his leash. Calliope held Argos’s leash as he walked in front of her, his giant tail moving fast.

“You look quite pale, darling,” said Penelope, who strode on Calliope’s other side, “and green.”

Both of her sisters were too observant. Unlike Penelope, who looked glowing and radiant in her pregnant state, Calliope had never felt so sick in her life. Raising her legs to walk was hard physical labor, like there wasn’t enough air in the whole of London to fill her lungs. The constant feeling of nausea she’d had for the past three weeks got stronger every day to the point where she couldn’t keep most food down, save for salty bread and slightly sweetened, weak tea.

These must be the symptoms of pregnancy… Her monthly bleeding still hadn’t come and was already three weeks late. She couldn’t have been sick from something bad she ate for three straight weeks… And yet, she didn’t know for sure. Nor did she know if this pregnancy would stick.

The thought was a little concerning. Calliope hated feeling out of control, despised being dependent on anyone, feeling vulnerable.

And yet, it seemed, she couldn’t do a thing about changing any of that.

The only thing she could do was to keep her head high and pretend she was fine. That she had no wound in the middle of her chest that ached from the absence of her husband, no bile constantly trying to rise up her throat, and no dizzy spells so strong she sometimes had to grasp on to furniture so that she didn’t fall.

“I do feel a little queasy,” said Calliope, “but that’s why I came here for a walk, to get some fresh air.”

“No word from Nathaniel?” asked Jane gently.

“Not since he sent me the letter,” said Calliope, the mention of her husband like a knife between her ribs.

Three weeks had passed since Nathaniel had left. Since her whole world had shattered and broken apart.

The very next day, she’d received a letter from Nathaniel outlining every detail he’d learned about HMS Concord. In April it was protecting York on Lake Ontario, but the town was captured by the American forces. Luckily, HMS Concord managed to escape. The last thing the Admiralty had heard was that it was headed to Boston after that.

“I’m sure he’ll let you know if he hears anything,” said Penelope carefully. “News from America doesn’t come often, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t, given that it can take anywhere from two to six weeks for the ships to cross the Atlantic.”

“That means,” said Penelope cheerfully, “if the ship was captured or sunk, we would have heard by now. So it’s good we haven’t heard that.”

“Unfortunately,” Calliope said, “it doesn’t mean Spencer is safe. We don’t know if he’s still on that ship. All we really know is that he was taken there with no money or possessions, dressed only in smallclothes, with no way to return home, and we haven’t heard from him since.”

“I still hope he returns,” Penelope whispered. “However much I think he’ll be in shock to learn that I married his brother.”

Calliope swallowed. “Poor Spencer. You were his first and only love. The only woman he seriously considered marrying.”

Jane, who had only heard about this briefly as she’d joined the family recently, bit her lip. “Oh. Your poor brother.”

Penelope sighed, her eyes on Preston’s broad back. “Yes. Poor Spencer. I don’t know if he’s ever going to be able to forgive me…or Preston.”

“But everyone thought he was dead,” argued Jane.

“It wouldn’t make it easier, I imagine,” said Calliope. “Actually, I’m a little worried what it could do to our family.”

“We won’t let it break us,” said Penelope. “I won’t let the brothers become enemies because of me.”

Jane raised her eyebrows. “I’m afraid it’s not up to you, love. You will have to let them resolve it themselves.”

“But first, we need to find him,” said Calliope.

“Speaking of, Nathaniel has helped a lot with this investigation, hasn’t he?” asked Penelope. “He cares…even if he left.”

At the reminder of Nathaniel, a sudden onslaught of nausea rose in Calliope, and she pressed her gloved hand over her lips. She inhaled deeply and slowly, and it subsided. “I am thankful he took time to find out everything he could,” she said. “But he couldn’t even face me…couldn’t stand to see me and deliver all this news personally.”

How would they ever keep a pretense of being married if the very sight of her repulsed him?

“I’m sure that’s not true!” said Penelope. “Clearly he cares about you. I think he loves you, darling.”

“But why did he leave?” asked Jane.

Calliope looked at Jane and pursed her lips, thinking of how to reply.

“Because we shouldn’t have been together in the first place,” said Calliope. “It was just a matter of time before he would see me for who I really am and realize he had made a mistake.”

Jane and Penelope exchanged a worried look, and Calliope shook her head. “There’s truly no need to look at each other that way,” Calliope said.

“There’s every reason,” said Jane. “He was obsessed with you at the Royal Navy ball, and at your wedding he looked at you like you were a treasure he’d found and was afraid to lose.”

Jane could have no idea how those words hurt her. Because the memory of those first happy days was far away.

Lost. Never to be found again.

“He may have looked at me so once,” said Calliope, looking at the faraway bushes but not really seeing anything, “but he certainly won’t look at me that way ever again.”

“Calliope…” said Penelope, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “If that is so, he is the blindest man alive.”

Tears began burning her eyes, and she looked up into the sky and blinked rapidly in an attempt to chase them away.

“I’m fine,” she said with a smile she hoped looked bright and cheerful. It was strange to try to stretch the corners of her lips apart when inside she felt as if she were collapsing on herself like a sinkhole. “I’ve always been fine. Do you remember us walking in Hyde Park just a few weeks ago when I told you I never wanted to marry exactly because of this reason?”

“And what reason was that again?” asked Penelope.

“Because no man would know about me dreaming of having my own sleuth agency and love me for it. I’m too odd. Too independent. I can’t be any other way, and I don’t want to be.”

“Nor should you,” said Jane.

“Yes, but that just means there’s no man who would love me for me. Lunatic ideas and all.”

Jane and Penelope squeezed Calliope’s hands from both sides.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” said Jane softly. “The right man will love you for who you are.”

“Is Nathaniel that man?” asked Penelope, then looked at Calliope carefully.

Calliope could feel it in her heart that he was the right man. At least, he had felt right. He had accepted her when she’d told him about William—and that was the most embarrassing and humiliating moment of her life.

And yet, he loved her for it. He’d kissed that spot that had hurt before, and made her feel like she was made of stars…

So what had gone wrong? Was it when he had learned about her wanting to be a sleuth that everything broke?

She laid her hand on her lower stomach.

“I don’t know,” she said. “We didn’t marry for love. It was a marriage of convenience. He helped me to find Spencer. I am carrying his child.”

Both her friends gasped, and Hercules and Argos looked back at them in surprise. Argos gave a questioning bark.

“Shhhh!” Calliope threw a worried glance at her brothers walking in front of her. “It’s not yet certain, and I don’t want those two to start a fuss.”

“That’s why you look green!” said Jane. “And thin.”

Calliope sighed and nodded in silent surrender.

“Oh, congratulations, darling,” said Penelope. “Our children will be cousins…and play together!”

Calliope smiled at her. “I hope they will be. I hope this pregnancy sticks.”

“Of course,” said Penelope, so beautiful and peaceful, Calliope’s heart soared. “Look, sister. Preston and I are another example that a marriage started without love doesn’t mean a loveless marriage. Ours was a marriage of hate, after all.” She threw a loving glance at Preston’s broad back. “And look at us now. He’s the love of my life.”

As though hearing her thoughts, Preston turned to look over his shoulder, and the most tender expression crossed his usually stark features. When he saw Calliope and Jane staring at him, he wiped the look from his face, but Calliope knew now how her ice-cold brother melted when he was alone with his wife.

She remembered a special look on Nathaniel’s face. The one that was just for her, when there were no footmen, no officers, no friends or family around. Just him and just her.

She missed it so much, tears burned her eyes all over again. She wished she could walk like her sisters-in-law, with her own husband just a few steps away. She wished Nathaniel would throw her that special glance that was just meant for her and no one else.

Especially now that she was pregnant, and both of their lives were going to change once again.

“And my engagement started fake,” said Jane with a chuckle. “As a ruse. We weren’t supposed to be married at all! And yet, Richard is exactly the man who made me realize I belong where I want to belong. And that where I want to belong is with him.”

They both looked at Calliope, whose heart beat hard against her chest.

“You deserve to be loved for your dreams, Calliope,” said Penelope. “Everyone does.”

“You’re lucky your husband supports your art,” said Calliope. “And Richard never once thought of stopping your school, Jane. And yet, Nathaniel took me to Kelford village and left me there.”

“Was it not because you had men following you…and thugs trying to attack you?” asked Jane carefully.

Calliope sighed. “Yes. He did panic, I know. I had just told him I may be pregnant.”

“Look,” said Penelope. “I’m not trying to excuse him by any means. That behavior is abhorrent. I’m just saying…if he left you in the countryside to protect you, that doesn’t scream to me that he disapproves of your dream. Or that he doesn’t love you. On the contrary, in his strange and twisted way…maybe he does. And he’s so terrified for you, he doesn’t know what else to do but to hide you away.”

Silence fell upon them, and only the gravel crunching under their feet and the faint sounds of conversation from their family members before them reached their ears.

“Not because he doesn’t want you or love you. But because he really, really does,” added Jane.

Calliope couldn’t really believe any of that. Logically, she believed that all of this might be true. And yet, she’d always thought of herself as someone who was too strong for a man to love.

She needed to think like a sleuth. Did she really have sufficient evidence to suggest Nathaniel did not love her? Or was he terrified to lose her—like she had been terrified of losing him when she’d seen him held hostage?

Knowing what he’d gone through when he’d lost his mother, could she imagine it was not about herself but about him? Could it be her own belief that stopped her from fighting for him?

Could the right man love her and still believe that her biggest dream sounded insane?

The sound of hooves behind her made her stop and turn around. Argos turned and growled, dashing past her, tearing the leash from her hand.

“Argos!” she cried. “Stop!” But when she saw the rider on the horse behind them, any further commands died on her lips.

Looking positively regal, William rode on a beautiful tall brown thoroughbred. He stopped the horse abruptly when his dark eyes connected with hers, his expression growing very, very cold. Argos kept barking and growling at the man, and his horse got nervous, prancing and rolling its eyes.

“Duchess of Kelford,” he said as he looked at her. “Duchess of Grandhampton,” he greeted Penelope. “Lady Seaton.”

He lingered, the face Calliope had thought long ago to be so handsome, so irresistible…now showing her what he truly was.

A coward.

Something was odd about him. He had said Seaton with a slow slur of the S. His eyelids were heavy. He swayed slightly in the saddle. His hair was disheveled, and not just windswept but positively tangled.

His gaze went over her and stopped at her chest. She didn’t wear her spencer today because of the heat. Neither did her sisters-in-law. But, unlike any of the meetings before, when she had dreaded the very memory of him, of his fingers reaching for her neck, of that one word, “whore,” that had made her cower and tighten up in a little, weeping ball…

She felt nothing.

Not the burning of that spot over her collarbone. Not the heat of shame that the very sight of him brought. Not the word itself that had made her feel dirty and like she was all wrong. Who would love such a whore as she? Who would want such an odd woman who was supposed to be all grace and poise and manners but, instead, hunted for danger? Protected her loved ones. Uncovered mysteries.

And enjoyed herself in her marital bed with her husband…sometimes feeling like a whore with him…and loving it.

“Huntingham,” said Calliope, stepping forward and staring straight into his eyes.

Drunk, she thought. He was drunk!

“I hope your husband is well and your matrimony serves you well,” he said, his eyes still lingering on her chest.

Previously, that lingering would have brought her shame, had her face flaming.

No more.

He had no power over her anymore.

“Get away from my sister!”

She turned around to see Preston running towards them, fury written across his handsome face. “I told you to never come near her again!”

“I was just leaving,” said William, but before he could spur his horse, Calliope grabbed its reins.

“No,” she said and turned to Preston. “Thank you, brother. One day I will tell you the true story of what happened, and you will understand. Then, it was Spencer who protected me. Just a couple weeks ago it was Nathaniel and you.” She looked straight into the dark eyes of the man to whom she had given far too much attention and power for years. “And now, it is me.”

As both her brothers froze, she turned to William. How small he looked to her now, even sitting on his horse, so tall and mighty. How could she ever think he was anything more than tragic? He visibly shrank under her gaze.

She squared her shoulders. She knew had Nathaniel been here, he’d applaud her. She wished he could see this. She was free from William. From the power he had held over her.

She actually wanted to go back and reread Villains and Velvet. There were a few scenes she would have liked to try with Nathaniel.

“William,” she said with her biggest smile. “I pity you, dear boy.”

He glared at her but said nothing.

“I pity you,” she repeated. “Calling a young girl what you called me during a very vulnerable moment few get to see. And yet you caught me… It must have been quite a shock to you, feeling what you did then, wasn’t it?”

He swallowed hard, and his eyes bulged, but he said nothing—which told her she must be quite right.

“Did you want to marry me because you wanted to understand that forbidden thing you felt when you saw me?”

Silence fell around her. She was very aware of several pairs of eyes on her, that she was letting her family in on something extremely private—something she should have told her parents about back then. Her mama, at least.

She was not ashamed anymore. There was nothing to be ashamed about.

“You made me feel like dirt,” she said. “You destroyed years of my life when I thought I was not worthy, not lovable for who I was.”

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.