Mr. Lewes returned with a cup of punch for her, and his reappearance proved a welcome distraction.
“Here you are,” he murmured, laying the cup in her palms and then lingering at her side with his hands folded behind his back. “Are Hastings and the countess here tonight?”
“Yes. Diana is dancing, and Hastings is … oh, he’s coming this way.”
Calliope experienced another surge of nervous excitement as her brother-in-law weaved his way through the crowd in their direction. Dominick Burke was on his heels, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Calliope and that teasing smirk still curving his lips. She clenched tighter to her fan and forced a smile as they drew near.
“Sister, Mr. Lewes, I had hoped to introduce you to an old acquaintance of mine. He hardly ever attends these affairs, so I thought it best to take advantage of the occasion. May I present, Mr. Dominick Burke … Mr. Burke, my sister-in-law, Miss Calliope Barrington, and my old friend, The Hounourable Mr. Martin Lewes.”
“Mr. Lewes, we have never been introduced, but your younger brother and I became acquainted during our Eton days.”
Mr. Lewes offered a genial smile. “Of course. I seem to remember some rather amusing stories concerning toads and chamber pots.”
Mr. Burke laughed, and drew the attention of every woman within hearing distance. Heads swiveled and eyes went wide at the sound—rich and warm and far too boisterous for a ballroom. The man didn’t seem to notice or care about all the attention.
“Ah yes, though I do hope the stories don’t make me sound too much the little scamp. I can assure you, I’ve come a long way since those days.”
Then, he was looking at her, his smile disappearing and his expression becoming one that put a flush in her cheeks.
“Miss Barrington, I haven’t yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but I am delighted to do so now. I hope you won’t think me too impertinent for saying that such a shade of yellow is quite becoming on you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burke.”
“I do hope you will honor me with a dance. Though I must warn you, it has been some time since I led a lady on the dance floor. I hope you will forgive me if I am a less than graceful partner.”
Calliope fought not to squirm under the intensity of his stare, finding it as unsettling as she had before. She did not usually have such a difficult time remaining composed, but told herself it must be the nature of their scheme. She was anxious for it to work, and to keep anyone else from knowing what they were up to.
“I’ve promised the next dance to Mr. Lewes, but I will save the one after that for you.”
Nick inclined his head in a gracious gesture. “I will await with bated breath.”
The current dance ended at that moment, and Mr. Lewes offered Calliope his arm.
“Shall we?”
Hastings took her empty cup, leaving her free to join her partner on the dance floor. The next dance was a quadrille, which put her in Mr. Lewes’s company for a quarter of an hour. He was as charming and affable as always, engaging her in light conversation whenever the dance brought them close. Tonight, she could swear there was a marked difference in the weight of his perusal. She must be imagining it, when their conversation remained as innocuous as ever. However, as the dance ended and he took her hand to lead her back toward Hastings and Mr. Burke—who stood awaiting his turn with her—he lowered his head and stoked hope in her with nothing more than a handful of words.
“Mr. Burke is right, you know. The color yellow was never so alluring as it is just now.”
Calliope had only been able to stare up at him and murmur a breathless ‘thank you’, before he was bowing to her with that belly-quivering smile. Then, her hand was in Mr. Burke’s, and he led her away from the one thing she wanted most in the world.
Her new partner offered her one hand, then slid the other around her back in the posture for a waltz. She blinked, perturbed to find herself so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. When promising him the next dance, she hadn’t realized it would be one which put them in such intimate proximity.
“Alone, at last. Let’s see if I can remember how to do this without trampling your toes.”
Before Calliope could utter a response, the music began, and Mr. Burke guided her through the first steps of the waltz with a dizzying turn. She gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the ungainly motions of a rusty partner. What she got, instead, was a man who danced as easily as he walked.
“I thought you said you were out of practice,” she said, surprised at the crisp grace with which he led her.
“I suppose there are some things that become like second nature once learned. Dancing … riding a horse … making love.”
“Mr. Burke—”
“Must this formality between us continue, goddess? I thought I asked you to call me Dominick.”
Calliope clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring as she did her best to keep irritation from showing on her face. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see how much this man annoyed her.
“And I thought I told you that our arrangement doesn’t require such familiarity. You should keep your opinions on … the marriage bed and horses to yourself. They are hardly necessary to our objective.”
“Of course they are. If I mention the marriage bed while we dance, you’ll blush, or gasp, or look properly scandalized, which will lead others to wonder just what we’re talking about. I never pay marked attention to any lady, so the fact that I’ve chosen you as my first dance partner tonight is sure to earn us the proper amount of attention.”
“There is only one person whose attention I care about.”
“Good, because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since I took you into my arms.”
Mr. Burke chuckled when she sucked in a sharp breath, craning her neck to try to catch sight of Mr. Lewes. Sure enough, she spotted him as they whirled by, his crystalline eyes following their progress in the throng of dancers. He hadn’t moved from where she’d left him with Hastings.
A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth and she relaxed in Mr. Burke’s hold.
“I watched you during your dance,” Mr. Burke added. “It is clear the man is interested in you.”
Calliope dared a glance at him, and found not a trace of humor on his face. “Do you really think so?”
“Definitely. Our objective should not be difficult to achieve. You have his attention; we simply need to figure out why he has yet to declare himself.”
She frowned. “I thought we had already determined that he simply needs the illusion of competition.”
“That is mostly true, but I’ve been thinking … you ought to be wed by now, goddess. That you are not leads me to believe there must be something we haven’t taken into account.”
Calliope stiffened in his hold. “We?”
“I cannot make sense of it. You’re too beautiful to be a spinster. The prospect of getting you into bed should be enough to have half the men of the ton clamoring after you. Then there’s the fact that you’re an heiress.”
“The amount of my inheritance has not been widely touted and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want someone to offer for me to get their hands on my fortune. As far as my beauty goes, I have no interest in a superficial connection based only on lust.”
Mr. Burke issued a sarcastic snort, which had her whipping her head to stare at him. She found him watching her instead of paying attention to their surroundings. Odd, how they managed to keep time with the music anyway, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm in the sea of other couples.
“You make it sound as if attraction is of no importance. It is the foundation on which your coveted love is built. If you want Mr. Lewes to lose his heart, he must first lose control of his cock. It wouldn’t hurt for you to flirt and show a little bosom.”
Calliope forgot about the room full of people. Just now, she couldn’t keep her face from showing just how badly she wanted to do him bodily harm.
“A man of your background and p
rofession would think flashing a little cleavage is enough to snare a marriage offer. The reasons for my state of spinsterhood are none of your concern. I am not paying you to prod into my personal affairs.”
Mr. Burke’s mouth twisted into an insolent smirk. “I beg to differ. You want me to help lure a husband into your little trap, and that requires me to find out what will make Lewes latch onto the bait. It is my opinion that the man likes you well enough, but cannot yet picture you warming his bed … and how can he when you’re as cold as an icicle in winter?”
Something within her reacted viscerally, and before she could think better of it, she reeled away from him, breaking the hold of his hand at her back. The dratted man recovered without misstep, tightening his grip on her hand and giving her a twirl that would seem to their onlookers like a display of flair and skill. She gasped as he reeled her back in, his fingers digging into her spine as he anchored her back in place. This time, there would be no escaping him. If she fought him, it would only press them closer together, and his nearness was already wreaking havoc on her senses.
Did he have to be so blasted hot? The man gave off warmth as if a furnace roared in his belly, and Calliope found herself feeling a bit lightheaded. Surely that, plus the dizzying speed of their waltz was what had her out of sorts—not his words or the shrewd sharpness of his eyes as he stared as if trying to see through the layers of her clothes.
“How dare you?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him, her body thrumming with tightly-leashed rage.
“Quite easily, I assure you. It is the truth, whether you wish to hear it or not. You hired me to dance attention on you in public, yes, but if you want this over with sooner rather than later, you’d do well to heed my advice. Otherwise, we’ll still be at this six months from now.”
Calliope’s stomach churned as she found herself unable to look away or back down now that he’d baited her. It didn’t matter that he seemed to derive satisfaction from rattling her. Just now, he’d pushed her past the usual limits of her control.
“I thought it was simply spirits that made you act the obnoxious boor the first time we met, but I can see now that this is your natural state. It is a wonder you’re accepted anywhere in polite society.”
He raised one mocking eyebrow. “It surprises me as much as it does you, believe me. Something you ought to learn about me if we are to get through this … I never lie. I may say things you do not wish to hear, and I might offend your delicate sensibilities, but I am honest to a fault. How many men of your acquaintance can say the same? How many of them will speak plainly rather than veil their true intentions behind polite civility?”
Damn him, he was right. She had hired a courtesan to avoid the complication of ulterior motives. He needed money, she wanted Martin Lewes for her husband. There was nothing more to it than that. Understanding this didn’t make it any easier to face the fact that he might be right. However, there was so much more to this than he realized. He was like Diana that way, unable to fathom that she walked a different path than the other women of the ton. She couldn’t do what they did so easily and with impunity.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, finally breaking his gaze. “It isn’t as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
They began to slow, then eventually came to a stop as the music around them faded away. Yet, she could still feel Mr. Burke’s eyes on her, hot and intent.
“Then make me understand it. There is no reason I can think of why you couldn’t have any man you wanted. So, what’s holding you back?”
Calliope suddenly couldn’t breathe, her chest burning and her hands shaking as she clenched them in her skirts. She ought to be used to scrutiny by now. After all, she was the daughter of a scandalous viscount and his foreign wife. Her very existence made her a walking scandal, and she’d endured her share of stares and whispers. However, the way Mr. Burke was looking at her, she had the devil of a time erecting her usual defenses. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would allow her to keep them up even if she could.
Before she could think up a response—anything to keep him from delving any further—the assembly seemed to shift in one direction. The sudden change in the atmosphere brought her back to her senses, and she blinked, finding that supper had been announced. Everyone was now making their way to the parted doors leading into the Covington’s opulent dining room.
Pursing his lips, Mr. Burke crooked his arm in her direction, sending horror lancing through her. Something else she hadn’t counted on when accepting his offer to dance—her partner for the before-supper dance would also be her escort into dinner.
Calliope couldn’t think of anything she’d like less—except perhaps having a tooth extracted or stepping barefoot on a pebble. Her hopes for sitting beside Mr. Lewes dashed, she resigned herself to more time in her courtesan’s company, when all she wanted was to be away from him.
As they approached the dining room, Diana appeared at her side on Hastings’s arm. Eyes bright and cheeks flushed, she grinned at Calliope as if she could hardly contain her excitement.
“I daresay you’ve achieved your goal tonight, sister,” she whispered. “Your dance with Mr. Burke cannot have failed to escape his notice. Goodness, if I didn’t know better, I’d think the two of you were actually attracted to one another.”
Calliope flinched, one hand coming up to her throat, but a quick glance put her at ease. No one had overheard them. However, she was now horrified that her sister thought she had any interest whatsoever in Mr. Burke.
“What on Earth are you talking about?” she demanded, keeping her voice low.
“Do you mean you hadn’t noticed? Darling, no one could take their eyes off you and Mr. Burke during your waltz. I doubt any of us would have been surprised if the two of you began shooting off sparks. It’s all anyone is talking about.”
“Nonsense,” she mumbled, though her protest was a feeble one.
Now that Diana mentioned it, she could feel the eyes on her, and heard the occasional whisper. Holding her head high, she ignored it as she always did.
So what if she and her courtesan had caused a bit of a stir? If it made Mr. Lewes pay closer attention to her, then their dance would have served its purpose. If people chose to derive romantic notions from what they’d seen, then so be it.
As for Mr. Burke, she would simply tolerate him until her own ends were achieved. Then, she would leave him behind and never think of him—or the unsettling effect he had on her—ever again.
By the afternoon following the Covington’s ball, Nick was inundated with messages and invitations to more soirees for the next several weeks. Thorpe had been delivering them by the handful, his typically stoic expression holding a hint of humor. Apparently, the invitations he’d received before were nothing more than an afterthought. No hostess had expected him to show his face in any room where desperate matrons were shoving their virginal daughters under the noses of any male with a pulse. Now that he’d appeared at a ball and made a public spectacle of himself with Calliope, everyone wanted his attendance at their next gathering.
With an annoyed huff, he tossed aside the twelfth invitation to arrive in the past few hours and ran his fingers through his hair. Here lay the proof of why taking Calliope Barrington as a client had been a terrible idea. Aside from the fact that their arrangement barred him from making his way between her thighs, there was the side-effect of everyone who mattered in London speculating that he was on the hunt for a wife. What other reason could there be for all the invitations? He had opened the night waltzing with an unmarried woman before escorting her to supper. Then, he’d spent the other half of the ball partnering other ladies, because it was far too soon for him to make Calliope his only partner for an entire night.
But, what a partner she had been.
Slouching in his chair, he let his mind take him back to their dance. From the moment he’d seen her standing at Lewes’s side, vibrant and sumptuous in yellow silk, he had been transfixed. No woman
in the room could compare in their drab pastels, their charms unremarkable when contrasted with her undeniable allure. Then, she’d let him take her into his arms for the waltz and that damned aroma of vanilla and roses had assaulted his senses.
She had been as stiff as a plank of wood at first, but then had fallen into the rhythm of the dance with him, her body relaxing into his hold. It had taken every ounce of his will—which, he had to admit wasn’t very strong to begin with—to keep from hauling her against him. He clenched his teeth, unable to stop himself from remembering the night they’d met and the way she’d felt against him then. That only made him wonder how it would feel to have her under him, arching and writhing, the grace of her movements translating into something primal and wicked in the bedchamber.
It had been damned distracting, trying to remain on his best behavior while she stood so close, taunting him with what he couldn’t have. So, he had opened his mouth to fill the silence between them … and promptly inserted his foot.
Had all the things he’d said to her been true? Absolutely. The problem with her pursuit of Martin Lewes was clear to him, and he thought she should be aware of it.
However, his delivery had left much to be desired, and now he regretted his choice of words. He’d insulted her. Again. During supper last night, she had done her best to avoid looking at him, only speaking to him when necessary. It seemed she had forgotten that they were supposed to give the impression of a newly burgeoning romance, and had spent the entire meal engaging with her sister and the others seated near them. If he’d been on fire, Nick doubted she would have troubled herself putting out the flames.
He laughed and shook his head, astonished as he realized what he’d come to. Dominick Burke, notorious debauchee and secret courtesan … panting for a prudish spinster after nothing more than a waltz. He, who had fucked whores in alleys, and widows in the most sumptuous of bedchambers. He, who had once pleasured three women at the same time with half a decanter of brandy in him, who had climbed out of countless windows to escape discovery by unsuspecting husbands.
Making of a Scandal (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 3) Page 9