be pieces from among the treasure trove passed down by Vedah. There was also a red sari embroidered in gold thread that her mother had worn when marrying her father. It was pinned to one shoulder, falling down one side in an artful drape without obscuring the beaded bodice and gossamer skirts of the pale-yellow gown beneath.
Topaz stones in a gold setting sparkled at her throat and atop her head, the chain of her tika running through the center part of her hair to allow a pendant to rest over her forehead.
Calliope had imagined dressing for her wedding with excitement and anticipation, smiling and preening before the mirror as she imagined the look on her groom’s face when he first laid eyes on her. Now, she could only envision her walk down the aisle with dread and an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Bridal nerves are normal,” Ekta murmured, going still as she realized there was nothing left to do. “Your mother could hardly keep her breakfast down on the day she wed your father. But, she told me that all became clear to her when she saw your father waiting for her. She knew it was right.”
Calliope lowered her eyes, afraid to let Ekta see her fear. Would the sight of Martin bolster her in any way? Would the notion that she was marrying for practical reasons reassure her?
It might have done, before Dominick.
Swallowing, she raised her head and met Ekta’s gaze. Her maid smiled, eyes watery and filled with affection. Her slender fingers cupped Calliope’s face.
“Hold your head high today. You are Calliope Barrington … but you are also Anni Manha, daughter of Vedah, a lady with the blood of nobles from both sides of her lineage. Let them all see you as you are. Be proud.”
It came easy to smile at the woman who had raised her, and Calliope drew her into a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Ekta … for all you have done for me.”
The woman clutched her for a moment, shoulders trembling. Then, she was herself again, pushing Calliope back and running both hands over her skirts and sari.
“Enough. You’ll wrinkle your gown.”
A knock on the door broke through the lingering haze of emotion, and Diana entered. Her sister’s gown had been altered twice to accommodate the swelling of her bosom and conceal the slight roundness curving her belly.
“Oh, Callie,” she whispered, one hand coming over her mouth. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Diana took her hands, squeezing them as she peered into Calliope’s eyes. “Are you ready?”
Calliope glanced to Ekta, who gave her an encouraging nod before making her exit. When she looked back to her sister, she found Diana frowning, brows knit together.
“Callie?”
“Of course. Yes … I am ready.”
Diana leaned closer, tightening her grip on Calliope’s fingers until they grew numb. “Are you sure? I would never pretend to know your mind better than you do. I just … this doesn’t feel right. You’ve been so unhappy these past weeks and we both know why.”
Calliope took a deep breath as the anxiety she’d been keeping at bay all morning flared to life again. “It is all but done. For better or worse, I have made my choice and must live with it.”
“Must you? What about Mr. Burke?”
Her stomach clenched as if she’d been struck at the sound of his name, a dull ache thudding in her chest.
“Oh, Diana,” she whispered, eyes burning with hot tears. “Even if I could call this off—”
“You can! The choice to put a stop to this is yours. What is keeping you from going to the man you love?”
She shook her head, the first tear slipping free, then another. “I’ve wounded him, Diana. You didn’t see the way he looked at me, the things he said when we last met … he was so angry, so miserable.”
It had been an even greater blow to emerge from that closet and go to her meeting, only to learn what Dominick’s business with Mrs. Fisher had been. The manager of the orphanage had been elated to inform them that she’d just accepted a sizable donation from The Honourable Mr. Burke. Calliope had nearly choked when she informed them how much he’d given—the exact amount she had paid to finalize the end of their contract. She’d sent the bank draft to Mr. Sterling upon her return to London, hoping it would see Dominick through until he inherited. He hadn’t touched a single penny, giving it all to the home that was so