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Chapter Eight
Calliope had always been one to discuss the forbidden, and the fact that the marquess was willing to allow her the chance to do so was quite impressive. Because he was advanced in years, naturally he was set in his ways, but although he was still just as surly as she had remembered from their initial introduction, she decided that, while she didn’t necessarily like him, she respected his opinions as well, because he was so fervent in expressing them.
When the marquess started to get tired from the wine and moved to a more comfortable chair by the hearth, Calliope remained in her seat next to Lord Blakely at the table. When they overheard his deep, even breathing, proving that he had fallen asleep, she smiled at her companion. “I think I wore him out with all of my forward ideals.”
Sebastian snorted. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten up in arms. I have a habit of engaging his anger quite often.”
She laughed, and the way his eyes warmed on her face caused her mirth to slowly fade away into something infinitely more dangerous. The wood in the fireplace crackled and the light glow surrounding them turned the room into the perfect setting for a romantic tryst.
Calliope blinked and glanced down into her half-empty glass of wine and attempted to gain control of herself. “You seem very close,” she noted. “I bet you had an interesting childhood.”
She dared to look back at him, but this time, his gaze was averted. “I’m afraid there’s really not much to tell.”
She frowned lightly, for his body told a different story than his words. His shoulders had stiffened, and his jaw had tightened. “I doubt that’s true,” she said softly. “Something tells me you were quite a hellion who continually bedeviled his governess.”
He shrugged. “What young lad doesn’t accomplish that?” He glanced at her and offered a wicked grin. “Or lady?”
Calliope decided not to prod too much into his past, for it was apparent he was reluctant to discuss it. Instead, she chose to open up to him and perhaps earn a bit of his trust, so that he might become more comfortable confiding in her.
She leaned slightly closer and said in a conspiratorial voice, “Would you be surprised to learn that I was a very naughty girl?”
He closed more of the distance separating them. “Exactly how naughty are we talking?”
“The worst. I used to hide so that I didn’t have to practice the pianoforte.”
His lips quirked upward. “That doesn’t seem so terrible. In fact, I would probably do the same.”
Calliope decided to take it one step further, even though she was playing with fire by doing so. “Then would it shock you to learn that I’ve been kissed before?”
She earned a raised brow for that confession. “Have you?”
“Indeed.” She nodded. “It was a rather rushed affair behind the church from one of the village boys. He told me that one of his friends dared him.”
He frowned. “That wasn’t very sporting of him.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “But I suppose the real question here is, did you enjoy it?”
She shook her head. “Not particularly. I’d always been curious, especially since my father had been married so many times. It made me wonder what all the fuss was about, but I daresay I could have done without it.”
Calliope might have been imagining it, but it seemed as though they were drawing closer with each word that was spoken.
“You wouldn’t want to try it again?” he asked huskily.
“Kissing?” It was little more than a whisper. “I’m not sure. It would definitely have to be different from the first time. It certainly couldn’t be on a dare.”
His dark eyes glittered. “Even if it was me daring you?”
Calliope’s breath started to become shallow. It wouldn’t take much for them to meet across the dining table. Just a little bit farther, and then…
Her lids fluttered closed, her pulse jumping in sudden anticipation. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how much she wanted Lord Blakely to kiss her.
A decided snore came from the marquess.
She jumped back guiltily, her eyes popping back open. Her cheeks were aflame as she hastily got to her feet. “It’s… getting late.” She kept her eyes averted from the viscount. “I should be going. Good evening…my lord… Blakely.” She stammered in embarrassment, and then she turned and fled the room.
She put her hands to her cheeks and rushed out of the hotel, as if anyone might notice her flushed face and be able to tell that she’d nearly kissed a man.
But not just any man.
Sebastian.
