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“I was hoping you might have come to your senses, but I can see that didn’t occur.” She lifted a knowing brow at the undergarments Calliope tossed down on a nearby chair.
Calliope sighed. “I don’t need your censure, if you please. I’m sure my own will arrive in due course. Just allow me this temporary elation.”
She had the good grace to hang her head slightly. “Of course, my lady. You deserve to be happy. Shall I order a bath for you?”
“In the morning.” Calliope lifted her hand to cover a yawn. “I daresay I’m feeling rather tired.”
The servant nodded and took Calliope’s soiled garments after she helped her mistress into her nightdress. “I’ll make sure and launder these first thing in the morning.”
Calliope offered her a weak smile. She supposed Sebastian was right. She might sleep well after all. “You are a treasure, Emma.”
The girl blushed lightly at the compliment and then offered a brief curtsy as she left Calliope alone.
After she’d slipped under the covers, Calliope found that some of her weariness had worn off, to be replaced by the delicious memories of this night. When she closed her eyes, she could clearly see the droplets of water as they slid down his chest and arms. She recalled the way his muscles had bunched with his strength, and yet he had been so gentle and caring of her needs. She might not have pictured Lord Blakely as the man she would have chosen as her first lover, as her first impression of him at the opera had not been overly complimentary.
The fact he’d retrieved his ex-mistress to gain an introduction to her hadn’t been his best choice, especially when it was obvious that Isa and Lady Abaline had not been the best of friends. The baroness had apparently been a neighbor in Broxbourne whenever they had visited their father’s hunting box, but Calliope must have been too young to remember her, as she hadn’t looked familiar.
Calliope would have looked back upon that night as a veritable disaster, but she supposed it had all worked out in the end. Sebastian’s best friend, Greyson Hartfield, the Earl of Somers, had become smitten with Minty almost instantly. Had it not been for the viscount’s fondness for redhaired women, her sister might not be happily married now.
She sighed, a contented smile on her face as she slipped into dreamland.
