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Chapter Fourteen
Sebastian didn’t know why some women had to be so blessed stubborn. And why Calliope had to be more so than other females of his acquaintance. He wasn’t even sure if Grey’s sister was quite as hardheaded, even before she’d given birth to her ninth child.
The problem with Calliope was she didn’t understand that they could coexist as lovers, yet keep their own goals. He knew she believed that she would lose everything if she embarked on a liaison with him, but the truth was, there were very few in London who knew all his sexual exploits, other than Grey, whom he’d confided most of his deepest, darkest secrets. He was the one who had warned him against Sabine’s nature when he had been ready to forget his vow and marry her. She had been that convincing in her plea of love that he’d nearly been blinded by the lies. Unfortunately, she had been saying the same things to the man who would become her husband, and who had met an untimely death months after the union.
As a widow, he had no doubt she would be even more persistent in her suit. If there was one thing he knew about her, she was like a parasite. She needed to have support or money to survive, and she would latch herself on to whoever she believed had the best offer.
But Calliope…
He blew out a heavy breath.
It didn’t matter what he did to convince her that he could keep her reputation intact, she refused to give him any more than she already had. That glorious night with her had been a gift above all others, but she was determined to keep him at a firm distance.
However, what she didn’t know about Sebastian was that he wasn’t one to eschew a challenge. He would keep trying to convince her that extending their time together would be beneficial to them both.
He walked into his rooms at the Three Cups and continued to the adjoining sitting room. His grandfather was in the same spot he’d been when he’d left earlier that morning.
“Did you miss me?” he asked in a dry tone.
A grunt was his only answer, and then a demanding query, “Where have you been all day?”
Sebastian set his hands on his hips. “I told you that I was going to chat with some of the villagers regarding any grievances they might have and see that they are handled properly.”
The marquess snorted. “I don’t understand why you have appointed yourself champion of Lyme Regis when they should have a proper squire to take care of these issues.”
“I learned today that he recently died, and his successor has yet to take up the reins.” He lifted a brow. “You make it sound as though, by doing a good deed, it should be punishable.”
“I’m merely reminding you that you have other duties that require your attention back in London.” He tapped his cane against his bandaged foot. “I’m growing stronger each day I take the waters. I should think within a week’s time I should be ready to head back to town where you can take advantage of the social whirl.”
Sebastian sighed. “Let’s not start this argument again.” Although he wasn’t excited at the prospect of telling him about Calliope, he had no other choice unless he wanted his grandfather to make a scene in public. Best to get it over with now. “I shall expect you to be on your best behavior tomorrow,” he warned.
Those bushy eyebrows lowered in a scowl. “For what purpose?”
“Lady Calliope shall be taking the waters with us in the morning.”
“Does the chit have some ailment I’m not aware of?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “No. And you don’t have to appear so pleased about it.”
Another indiscernible noise.
“Promise me you will conduct yourself as a gentleman,” Sebastian warned. “If not, you may find yourself taking the mail coach back to London on your own.”
This definitely earned him a hard glare, but in the end, the marquess acquiesced. “Very well, you rogue!” He pointed his cane directly at Sebastian’s chest. “I daresay one of these days you will answer for your transgressions against a helpless old man!”
“Helpless?” Sebastian laughed heartily. “My lord, the day you actually become helpless is the day you are put in the ground and prepare yourself to meet your maker.”
It wasn’t often that Calliope was able to find an opportunity to swim, especially in London, but this morning would be the second time she would have made it into the waters of Lyme Regis. Granted, she would be wearing much more clothing than before, an actual bathing dress as opposed to her sheer, cotton chemise, and she likely wouldn’t even be in close proximity to the viscount. That alone made her look forward to the prospect, because she wouldn’t be distracted by him.
At precisely nine o’clock in the morning, she made her way to the shore and spied two bathing machines in neat succession next to each other. One was presumably for Lord Blakely and the marquess, and one for her. At least, she prayed that was the case.
She glanced about and didn’t see either of them, the strand along the beach appearing to be deserted at the moment. Nevertheless, she drew closer to the wheeled contraption. A horse was attached to the front, with a bathing attending lad that looked to be about ten and six standing beside it. “Lady Calliope?” he asked.
She smiled. “Yes, that’s me.”
He opened the door and waved her forward. The machine was large enough for two people, and a set of wooden benches sat across from each other. A closed door was on the other side. She climbed inside and settled herself.
“I’ll be pulling you into the water and then unhitching the horse. I’ll knock when it’s safe to come out.”
