an inheritance—though no one is certain just how much. Her father is one of those nabobs, you know … went to India in his youth to make his fortune.”
“Her father wouldn’t happen to be Viscount Barrington?” Paul asked.
“The very man,” Charity confirmed. “Though he became the viscount unexpectedly after the death of both his elder brother and the man’s infant son. The babe was the heir to the title, but with his death, the current Viscount Barrington was next in the line of succession. Well, imagine everyone’s surprise when this man they had given no thought to until his brother’s death, turned out to be an officer for the East India Company stationed a world away in Bengal.”
“I remember the scandal that was caused by his ascension to the viscountcy,” Paul remarked. “Barrington had gone native while in India, adopting the customs and clothing of the people there.”
“I heard he even converted to Hinduism in order to court and marry the daughter of a Bengali nobleman. Apparently, his efforts to ingratiate himself into that society worked, for he returned with a legitimate, half-Bengali daughter.”
That would explain the bronze cast of her skin, as well as the alluring shape of her eyes. He’d never heard of this scandal his sister and uncle seemed to know so much about, but then, Nick never paid attention to such matters. Viscount Barrington wasn’t the first man to sire a child on a foreign wife or mistress and bring his offspring back to England, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“What of the mother?” Nick asked, his curiosity stronger than ever.
“Dead,” Charity said with a frown. “The poor woman perished giving birth to their second child—who also did not survive. When Viscount Barrington returned to take his place in society, it was with young Miss Barrington and a collection of servants from India. Rumors swirled for years that he continued dressing as a native while at home—in flowing robes and turbans, and some even said he had a shrine dedicated to heathen gods hidden away in his home. His neighbors called on him every day hoping to get a glimpse of him in his scandalous attire.”
Nick shook his head with a derisive snort. “The man was grieving his dead wife, for God’s sake. The ton has no couth.”
“None at all,” Paul agreed. “I seem to remember thinking that the talk must be the reason for his hasty second marriage. Less than a year after his return, he was wed to the viscountess and appearing in society dressed at the height of English fashion and looking every bit the viscount.”
“Yes, though the second wife died five years ago, I believe. They had a daughter, as well … she is now the Countess of Hastings. Despite having no male heir, Viscount Barrington never wed again. I always believed he never recovered from the loss of his first wife. The second was a necessity for the sake of appearances. One can hardly blame him for not wanting to go through it all a third time.”
“Do you know why Miss Barrington remains unwed?” he asked. “It seems odd when she is so … comely.”
Comely seemed far too simple a word to describe Calliope, but Charity already thought he had honorable intentions toward this woman—which was worse than her thinking he had dishonorable ones.
“She is, and a very lovely person, besides,” Charity said. “I honestly cannot fathom why she is unwed. Not only is she a stunning beauty, she is a dear and kind person. Any man would be fortunate to have her.”
Those had been Nick’s thoughts, but he did not share them. All that mattered was that he figure out why Lewes hadn’t yet staked his claim and then do what he could to change that. Pretending to court her would help matters, but Nick thought taking a more active approach would prove more effective. Besides, the sooner he was finished with Calliope Barrington, the sooner he could turn his attention toward Paul. It seemed he had very little time left with his uncle, and wanted to make the best of it—even if he still wasn’t ready to accept his impending loss. There was also the matter of this inheritance to grapple with. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed that very shortly, his life would be forever changed.
Chapter 4
“Last evening marked the Covington’s annual summer ball. I would be remiss if I did not mention the appearance of a certain gentleman—and I do use that word loosely.