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He closed his eyes, as the need to sweep her into his arms and whisk her off to someplace private so that they could be alone was sparking fire in his blood. His focus kept shifting to the Dark Walks where they were supposed to meet, although the marquess had done his best to coerce any single lady within their vicinity to their supper box. Thus, Sebastian had been forced to play the reluctant host while his grandfather dropped several subtle hints about the possibility that Lord Blakely would be taking a wife. The ladies would then smile and flutter their lashes at him, likely eager to take the title of viscountess, but he wasn’t impressed. The only woman he cared about this evening, or any other, was Calliope.
He reached into his jacket and checked his watch. Time seemed to pass at a crawl. It was only a quarter past eleven. This night was turning out to be endless, but he vowed it would be worth all the torture he was being put through now.
He told himself over and over that he had been a fool to leave that beach, but he thought there hadn’t been any way in which to convince Calliope to return to London with him. Then, when his grandfather had told him that she had come to call on him, he had begun to wonder if she had missed him after all. He didn’t think she had managed to unearth some sort of prehistorical skeleton in that short amount of time, so surely that was the only other possibility for her arrival in town.
He supposed he would soon find out.
He checked the time again.
Forty-three minutes.
“You could at least pretend as though you are interested in one of these empty-headed chits.”
Sebastian forced himself to close the watch and tuck it back away in his jacket. “And yet, you call them empty-headed, which doesn’t sound at all complementary.”
“Nevertheless, as a viscount—”
“Odd’s fish.” Sebastian rubbed his temples. “I think I’m starting to get a megrim. Perhaps I should see if there is an apothecary nearby…” He craned his neck as if he might actually find someone peddling their medical wares.
In turn, this earned him a glare from the marquess. “To hear you speak it makes one wonder if you are truly a gentleman at all.”
“I never claimed to be one,” Sebastian noted dryly. He leaned back in his chair and shifted his gaze among the crowds, hoping he might find an early glimpse of that fiery red hair.
“If you can’t try to find a suitable bride, then at least you can humor an old man with some cards,” his grandfather snapped.
Seb inclined his head. “Now that I can do.”
He motioned over one of the waiters and was able to obtain a set of cards in quick succession. He took it upon himself to shuffle. “What should you like to play?” he asked.
“Piquet.”
“Very well.” As Sebastian started to deal the cards between them, he added, “Perhaps a bit of gambling might put you in better spirits as well. You are quite surly tonight, when it was your idea to come in the first place.”
“Stop your blathering and play,” the marquess snapped.
They exchanged hands for so long that Sebastian almost forgot that there was somewhere he needed to be. To his surprise, it was the marquess who reminded him.
Seb immediately got up and tossed down the rest of his cards. “Wish me luck.” He offered a wink to his companion and headed for the fork between two paths where he was told she would be waiting.
Moments later, he spied a delicate, feminine silhouette sitting on a stone bench. Her back was to him, and she wore a bonnet that covered her features.
His heart pounded furiously as he drew closer to the lady. “Calliope?” he whispered.
The lady slowly rose to her feet and turned around to face him. The light from the fireworks overhead lit up her features, but most especially the glint in her cunning, blue eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Seb.”
Calliope had never been to Vauxhall before that night, and it didn’t take much for her to become distracted. She had to keep reminding herself that she was here for Sebastian, not the showers of sparks overhead that lit up the night sky with their brilliance, nor the tumblers who attempted to engage her in their performance. It was Isadora who finally had to threaten them with one of her infamous glares before they scurried about their way.
“Isn’t this fascinating?” Calliope breathed.
“Quite,” Isadora said firmly. “Let’s just hope you are able to find Lord Blakely in this…” She waved a hand to indicate the mix of nobility and commoner alike.
No doubt there were pickpockets filling their own coffers this night. It was that sobering thought that propelled Calliope onward. “I’m not sure I even know what these Dark Walks look like.”
“I imagine it’s just as it appears,” Isadora said, as they walked forward. They quickly encountered a row of hedges that branched off from the main area of entertainment. It was sparsely lit with lanterns and looked as though many scandalous rendezvous might take place there. She glanced at Calliope. “Are you certain you want to go through with this?”
Calliope looked at the intimidating area, but then stiffened her spine and nodded her head. “It surely can’t be any worse than the passages Livy and I used to explore at Marlington Hall. And I daresay there won’t be nearly as many cobwebs in my path.”
“At least I will be able to easily find you should a spider fall on you.” Isadora lifted a brow, drawing to mind the scream that had caused everyone at Marlington Hall to come running to her aid, fearing the worst.
