inheritance. I will admit that when Hastings mentioned your wealth, it was the thing that drew me to you … at first. I came to like you, Calliope, and thought you felt the same.”
“I did … I do.”
“Very well. We ought to announce an engagement as soon as possible to take the edge off the gossip. I have no desire to begin anew with someone else, and wish to be wed at the earliest convenience. If you can assure me that your association with Mr. Burke will come to an immediate end, I believe we can have an amiable union. After the wedding, we will quit London for a time, ensuring most of the talk has died down before we return. As well, I must ask you to inform me should you discover that your blunder has resulted in a more … permanent consequence.”
It hadn’t occurred to her to think of the possibility of a child, but Martin’s words struck dread in her. Her heart could heal, and life could go on as before … but only if she weren’t forced to face the evidence of her one night with Nick every day.
“Is all this agreeable to you?”
He stared intently at her, waiting for her response. She nearly laughed at the tragedy of it all. Here she stood about to accept her second marriage proposal within a week. There was no romance or gentle wooing, no declarations, no man on one knee gazing up at her with adoration in his eyes. Cold, impersonal, practical … exactly what was necessary for her continued survival.
“Yes.”
Martin sagged as if relieved, and she realized he’d been nervous, even knowing he was proposing to a fallen woman. He must be more desperate for her funds than she thought. But, she didn’t care. Her inheritance in exchange for respectability and stability. It wasn’t grand passion or great love, but it would do.
“I will inform your father,” he said as he made his way to the door.
He paused when he neared her, tentatively bending his head. She held her breath and braced for a kiss, but was relieved when his mouth merely grazed her cheek. Someday, she would come to make herself accept his affection and offer her own in return. Just now, she was too numb to do anything more than stand there and endure the intimacy.
He exited without another word, leaving her alone with her regrets. She feared that even a respectable marriage would never be enough to erase them.
Dominick slouched in his chair at Paul’s bedside, viciously ripping apart the copy of The London Gossip he’d just finished reading. He didn’t know why he tortured himself this way, but had been desperate for any hint that the rumor of Calliope’s engagement to Martin Lewes was true. It had just been confirmed that Viscount Barrington had announced the betrothal during dinner one night at his house party, and the first of the banns were to be called soon. Apparently, Lewes had wasted no time swooping in to take advantage of Calliope’s vulnerability. It was difficult not to be angry with her, as well, for accepting the other man’s suit. Nick understood her reasons, even if acknowledging them hurt like nothing ever had. Fear had guided her choice, and the need to hold fast to propriety was a strong enticement against the truth of what he’d been when they had first met. He’d been so eager to have her, so desperate to move on with his life that he forgot about the finer details—like the possibility that one of his former lovers could accost him at any time, or how his fiancée of all of one day might feel about that.
A week had passed since his return to London, and he felt as if his entire world had begun to fall down around him in that time. He spent much of his time staring off into space and trying to figure out exactly when everything had gone to hell.
She had been his. For the span of one day and one night she had been completely, entirely his … and now she wasn’t.
“I think … it is dead now.”
Dominick glanced up to find that his uncle was awake, a witness to his fury. He glanced down at the shreds of paper dusting his lap and scattered on the floor.
“I have a few letters you can assault next if you … need something else to destroy,” he added, his words pushed out between labored breaths.