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Calliope wasn’t sure if she should bother her or not, but she finally knocked lightly on the door frame. Isa glanced up expectantly. Upon seeing Calliope, she set down her pen in the middle of the ledger. “Come in.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should interrupt. You seemed so intent.” Calliope offered her a slight smile. That was the most she could manage at the moment.
Isadora looked at her kindly. “It’s nothing that can’t wait.” She tilted her head to the side. “How are you faring?”
Calliope shrugged. “I’m not sure I can even describe what I’m feeling right now. But I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath to steady herself, and then she looked back at Isa. “I was curious if you kept any of the cards from my amorous suitors.”
Her sister lifted a curious brow. “Are you referring to the array of hothouse flowers in the parlor that you said you despised?”
A knot started to form in her stomach. “Indeed.”
Isadora’s gray eyes narrowed. “I think I know what you’re considering and I’m not sure I approve.”
Calliope lifted her chin. “I love you, Isa, but with all due respect, it doesn’t really matter if you do or not. I’m of age to make my own decisions, be they good or bad ones. It’s my right to choose.”
Isa hesitated, and then opened one of the desk drawers. She withdrew a stack of cards that had been tied together with a single ribbon and held them out to her without a single word.
Calliope walked over and grasped the stack, but when she would have taken them, Isa held fast. Her gray eyes were knowing when she said gently, “Just know that whatever you are planning, sometimes there is no going back.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I’m fully aware of that, but neither shall I allow myself to brood around this townhouse like a wraith for the rest of my days. Life must go on.”
Isa relinquished her grip. “Very well.” When Calliope would have taken her leave, Isa called from behind her, “If you need someone to talk to, I hope you know you can come to me, Callie.”
It was the nickname that caused her throat to burn with acidic tears, recalling when Sebastian had spoken it so lovingly. Pushing that aside for the moment, she turned back to Isadora and nodded her head. “I know. And I appreciate it too.”
Calliope made it back to her room and shut the door as fresh, hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She allowed herself a brief time to grieve for her broken heart, and then she wiped her face and returned to the bed. Pulling the coverlet back over her, she spread out the cards in her grasp.
It was time to determine which one she might be able to stomach.
And who would make the best husband.
Isadora walked inside the British Museum later that afternoon. Sebastian had sent a note around to her earlier in the day with a request for a meeting in the room housing the Elgin Marbles. He was instantly flooded with relief when he spied her crossing the threshold. He’d arrived about thirty minutes prior, but he wanted to ensure that he had allowed a proper amount of time so that he didn’t miss her if she decided to get there early. He should have known she would be perfectly prompt.
Her expression was a mask of professional business as she spied him and walked over. There was no reticence in her movements, only a calm assurance. “Lord Blakely.”
He inclined his head in a polite manner. “Lady Isadora. Thank you for seeing me. Shall we talk while we admire the sculptures?” He clasped his hands behind his back and began to stroll along slowly. “Were you surprised to receive my letter?” he asked.
“Not particularly.” She lifted an inquiring brow. “Were you surprised I accepted your invitation?”
“Honestly? Yes, I was, although I was hoping you would.” He blew out a steadying breath, praying that his gamble would pay off. “I know what you must think of me, Lady Isadora—”
“I think you love my sister.”
He paused, for he hadn’t been expecting her to speak so boldly.
She smiled. “I can see I’ve surprised you again.” She shrugged. “But it’s not that difficult to deduce when you abruptly pack up and leave London to pursue my sister to the coast. If that isn’t love spurring one on, then I’m not sure what to call it.”
What, indeed?
Sebastian had been reticent to call what he felt for Calliope something so strong, but even he couldn’t deny it now that the sentiment had been voiced aloud. “I daresay you are quite right in that regard,” he said softly.
She looked at him directly. “I’m sure you can guess what my next question is. What are you going to do about it?”
“I want to marry her,” he answered immediately, and then shook his head. “It’s ironic, because before I met Calliope, I was so averse to marrying anyone. I’m not sure if you are aware, but my mother had a lover who ended up causing her death and that of my father. I swore that I would never put myself through that kind of misery, but I suppose even the most cold-hearted can change their mind on occasion.”
Isadora inclined her head. “That is very true, my lord. All my sisters were determined to strive for independence, and yet, I’m the only one left standing.” She paused and looked at one of the marbles that showed a man’s chiseled abdomen. “I daresay I might regret my decision to remain a spinster, but as the oldest at eight and twenty, I don’t see any reason to change now.” Her gaze shifted to him. “But there is time for you and Calliope to mend things and start a happy life together. I know she cares for you, but I fear because of her high emotions, she is going to make a dreadful mistake.” She withdrew a sheet of paper from her reticle and handed it to him.
Curious, Sebastian opened it to find a list of male names.
