the Sin she had heard about with the Sin she had come to know. The Duchess of Longleigh had told her Sin was a good man, and Callie had seen the evidence herself.
“I know all that, but he is nothing like what I expected him to be.” She sighed. “Oh, Jo. What if I am falling in love with him?”
There it was, her biggest fear. Because Sin himself had told her theirs was a marriage of convenience. He had told her he did not believe in love. His last wife had left scars upon his heart, that much was undeniable.
Jo’s brows rose. “In love? You think you are falling in love with the Earl of Sinclair?”
Callie gave a miserable nod. “I never expected to like him, let alone care for him. But there is something about him that makes me feel emotions I never felt before. Not even with Simon.”
The last admission came with a pang of accompanying guilt. She could not help but to feel she tarnished his memory by feeling such a depth of emotion for another man, and in such a short amount of time. A man who she had not long ago considered her enemy. A man she had been determined to destroy.
“Do you think he feels the same way?” Jo queried softly, giving voice to another of Callie’s fears.
“I hardly know.” Her voice trembled. “He has not been forthright with his emotions.”
“But he is otherwise attentive?” her friend pressed.
Quite attentive.
Deliciously so.
Her cheeks went hot all over again. She could not meet Jo’s inquisitive gaze. “Yes, I dare say he is.”
“Your cheeks are red as an apple,” Jo accused, chuckling. “Good heavens, I never thought to see the day Lady Calliope Manning was embarrassed over something.”
“Lady Sinclair now,” she reminded her friend.
And herself as well.
How strange it felt, rolling off her tongue. Stranger still, how right. A month ago, she never would have countenanced it. Now, she could not deny that marrying Sin had given her a sense of purpose for the first time since Simon and Alfred had died. Aside from her work for the Lady’s Suffrage Society, she had been adrift. Her life in Paris with Aunt Fanchette had been nothing but a lavish swirl of parties. Her life in London had not been much altered, aside from her devotion to her cause.
“You are the happiest I have seen you in as long as I can recall,” Jo said softly, cutting into Callie’s turbulent musings. “I do believe marriage suits you, my dear friend.”
“It does,” she agreed, the admission nevertheless laced with worry.
Her happiness had always been cut short by a death, an unexpected end. She hated to bask too much in the moment, or to allow herself to grow too complacent. Surely this contentedness, too, would be dashed upon the rocks like a ship caught in a maelstrom before too long.
“You do not sound pleased with the realization, however.”
Jo was ever observant and wise. Those were some of the traits that made her such a wonderful friend. That and her loyalty and sharp-as-a-blade wit.
“I am afraid,” she confided. “He has made it more than clear to me that he expects me to give him an heir, and after that time, we shall go our separate ways and lead our own lives. Part of me is convinced he is still in love with his ex-mistress. And his last marriage has left him wary. Apparently, it was quite a bitter affair on both sides. I do believe he loved her at some point.”
The notion of her husband’s heart having been broken by other women before her left Callie feeling both melancholy and possessive, all at once.
“Oh dear.” Jo’s expression was commiserating as she took a sip of her tea and then made a face. “Good heavens, the tea has grown cold. Here I am chattering on, asking you all these insufferably rude questions. Just tell me to stifle it, do. I know I am too inquisitive for my own good.”
That was one of the many curious facets of Lady Jo Danvers. By all appearances, she was a shy, quiet wallflower. It was only with those she knew and trusted that her true personality came to life. Meanwhile, Callie was the opposite. She was bold and boisterous and unapologetic. Mayhap that was why she and Jo had connected as friends on such a deep level. They were each what the other was not. Together, they understood each other and flourished.
“Never mind the tea,” Callie said, feeling