Chapter 7

7

“Calliope, how lovely to see you!”exclaimed Penelope as Calliope entered the sitting room of Newdale Place the next day.

She looked lovely with her glowing face, blushing cheekbones, and shiny eyes. Pregnancy suited her.

With a welcoming smile, Preston jumped to his feet from a blue sofa that echoed the warm pastel-blue walls. Calliope found the drawing room of Preston and Penelope’s new place so inviting, with artwork of sunlit, blooming gardens and spring landscapes, most of which Penelope had painted herself. Three large windows let in plenty of daylight. Penelope had carefully picked modern furniture for the room, but several ancestral vases and other art pieces had been brought from Chalworth, the traditional ducal residence of Grandhampton. Chalworth was being repaired after a devastating fire, but it would likely never be the same.

“Lovely to see you, sister,” said Preston warmly, his sharp gaze scanning her quickly. “Are you well?”

Oh, Preston’s face would lose that smile in a minute, Calliope thought. Nathaniel was just arriving.

It was heartwarming to see her brother and his new wife so happy together. From a man with hard edges who was too quick to bristle and reject people, Preston had turned into a warm, smiling man, and Calliope loved the change.

Calliope was so nervous. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to get married so spontaneously when for years she’d claimed she wouldn’t marry. And now, very willingly, she was going to have a husband.

It was for Spencer, she told herself again. For Spencer.

And she’d be free from William.

“Yes, all is well,” she said, forcing out a smile. “I wanted to see you. How are you feeling, Penelope?”

“I’m feeling fine,” said Penelope as she gestured for Calliope to take a seat on the sofa across from hers while Preston took his place by Penelope’s side. “Preston is worried oil paint fumes may be bad for the baby, but I’m being careful.”

Calliope chuckled nervously and glanced at the door. She saw Kelford ride up on a horse and stop behind her carriage. And, heavens, he looked so striking… She’d seen more than a few female heads turn in his wake, both at the ball and during their stroll on Bond Street.

They may turn, but he would be hers…

Something pleasant squeezed in her chest at the thought. Even though he’d never love her, he would still be hers. She would never love him, either, of course. All her feelings towards him were nothing but infatuation…lust, perhaps.

He should reach the drawing room at any moment. She threw a glance at Preston, who was happily ignorant about the visitor and poured tea into a cup for her.

What would he say? What if he refused Nathaniel? And what would they do then? As the head of the family, Preston was the one to accept or decline any proposals she received. Could she dare marry Kelford even if Preston refused to approve it?

The door to the drawing room opened, and Porter, Preston’s butler, entered. “Duke of Kelford.”

Just as Calliope had feared, Preston’s face fell, and his arm froze with the teacup in his hand. He glared at Calliope. “What is he doing here?”

“May I ask the duke to come in?” asked Porter.

Penelope widened her eyes at Calliope, and Calliope threw her a pleading glance.

“Of course you may, Porter,” said Penelope.

Penelope was a good friend. Porter nodded and disappeared behind the door.

“Penelope!” declared Preston. “He shouldn’t breathe near Calliope or you, let alone come to pay a visit two days in a row.”

“What will happen with such a protective brother as you by your sister’s side?” Penelope asked warmly and patted Preston’s thigh.

Kelford walked in, and Calliope’s breath left her body. Their eyes locked with meaning, and she couldn’t feel herself anymore. He’d come here for her. He’d come to ask for her hand in marriage.

It felt…strangely pleasant, heated and tingly, and like she was about to fly up to the ceiling.

Preston slowly stood, his dark eyes intense on Nathaniel.

“Lady Grandhampton.” Nathaniel nodded to Penelope. “Grandhampton. Lady Calliope.”

“Kelford.” Preston nodded. “I thought I was clear yesterday—”

“Preston, where are your manners?” asked Penelope with a slight gasp. “Would you like tea, Kelford?”

“I would.” Kelford nodded. “Thank you. However, before we do, I’d like to ask you, Grandhampton, to talk in private.”

The room held its breath for a moment.

“What about?” asked Preston coldly, shattering the silence.

“About Lady Calliope.”

Preston’s nostrils flared, and his upper lip curled. He threw a furious glare at Calliope. “I do not know what you’re playing at, sister, but I do not like it.”

Then he nodded to Kelford and gestured to the door with his arm. When both men left, Calliope let out a long breath, her stomach in knots. Penelope stood up and came to sit on the sofa next to Calliope. She took Calliope’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

“Whatever it is about, it will be all right. But may I ask if you know what the duke wants with Preston?”

With her heart slamming in her chest, Calliope’s cold palm squeezed Penelope’s warm one back.

“He wants to ask for my hand in marriage,” said Calliope.

Penelope gasped. “Oh, dearest!”

Calliope nodded. She should be indifferent about the outcome of that talk.

If Preston said no, she’d have to seek another way to gather information about Spencer. Perhaps she’d even need to give up her idea to do it by herself and actually involve her brothers.

Would Preston’s introduction to the admiral help with anything at all?

“And do you want Preston to say yes?” asked Penelope.

Calliope swallowed. “I really, really do.”

Because it was better than being married to William.

And it wasn’t just because Kelford would open many doors for her.

It was because the idea of being married to him made pleasant flutters move in her body. Flutters she kept trying—and failing—to ignore.

* * *

The decisive thump of Preston’s study door echoed crisply behind Nathaniel. As he proceeded deeper into the room, he saw high bookshelves lining the walls, their mahogany surfaces gleaming with reflected daylight. The spines of law texts, military treatises, and Latin classics filled the shelves, their leathery scent mingling with the aroma of fresh wood and beeswax polish.

Daylight streamed in through tall, paned windows, casting long fingers of light onto a large intricately carved desk on which stood only an inkwell, a quill, and a set of brass scales, their facets winking in the sun.

Near the fireplace was a pair of leather-upholstered wingback chairs, their surfaces smooth and plump. The chairs faced each other, a square side table sitting between them.

Preston walked to the desk. “Did she find the new umbrella agreeable?”

Nathaniel turned to Preston. “Yes. Lady Calliope said she did.”

“What else is there to talk about regarding my sister, then?”

Nathaniel’s stomach churned. He knew Preston wasn’t an easy man to impress or befriend. Especially when he was so protective of his sister. Which Nathaniel understood all too well—he’d kill any man who’d look at his sisters in the wrong way.

But he needed Preston to be on his side. He needed him to agree.

Nathaniel walked three steps closer. “With your papa deceased, I have come to you as the leader of your house.”

Preston’s face fell with understanding. He straightened up, his expression threatening. “Oh no,” he muttered.

Nathaniel swallowed hard and braced himself. There was no way back. He needed to ask this. He had to marry Calliope and conceive an heir, or his fortune would forever be lost, and he would never be able to provide his sisters with good dowries and ensure their futures.

This was for Hazel, Poppy, and Violet.

“I’m asking your permission for your sister’s hand in marriage,” said Nathaniel.

Preston launched at him, teeth bared, shoving Nathaniel against the wall. The glasses clunked on the sideboard standing nearby, and paintings knocked loudly against the wood- paneled wall—a small one fell and knocked Nathaniel’s head. Pain burst through his skull.

“You scoundrel,” roared Preston into his face. “You did it, didn’t you? Seduced her? Dishonored her?”

Nathaniel gathered all his willpower to remain calm and to suppress his instinct to fight back. “No. I assure you. Lady Calliope is innocent.”

Preston’s black eyes were wild. “I don’t believe you. I demand satisfaction with a duel.”

“There’s no need for that, Grandhampton. Nothing happened. I find her most agreeable and want to marry her.”

“Do not jest with me. The whole of London knows you’re a rake. Your poor finances are notorious. That is why you’re serving in the navy, even though you’re a duke. You’re a fortune hunter, are you not?”

Nathaniel’s blood boiled. All were true, and all sounded like insults. He needed to calm Preston down. “No. I am not. I have a fortune to my name, which will exceed Lady Calliope’s or even yours. It’s just locked in a will. My father wants me to produce a legitimate heir or heiress by my thirtieth birthday. So I will have my own fortune once I accomplish that. I do not require any of Calliope’s money if that’s your worry. We can have that in the marriage contract.”

“You want to use her to get your money. Do not try to fool me.”

“That is just one of the reasons, Grandhampton. I am in need of a wife, and I cannot think of a better woman than your sister.”

Preston studied him, his expression still murderous. Then he shoved him one last time and let go, walking away from Nathaniel to the other side of the room.

“How have you even gotten to know each other?”

Nathaniel straightened the lapels of his military coat. “We met at the Royal Navy ball. You know that. I could not get Lady Calliope out of my head.”

That was entirely true. Lady Calliope had occupied his thoughts ever since.

“One week is not enough for you to have concluded she’s the one for you.”

“I could see her qualities within five minutes in her company. Anyone with eyes would.”

Preston scoffed and glared at Nathaniel, who glared right back. “I will not give you my permission.”

“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.”