The pair of sisters could have come from some delightful illustration. Callisto fair in scarlet, and her sister’s darks locks peeking from a fetching celestial blue bonnet that matched her bright blue pelisse. Against the backdrop of the snow-edged lake, the trees naked from their summer glory silhouetted in the dove-grey sky. Any artist would be enraptured and need to record the scene. Graham’s heart leaped at the exquisite sight before him. Then he stomped on those thoughts, refusing to allow such troubling emotions to deter him.
He walked toward them, deliberately allowing his boots to echo noisily over the soggy ground. They whirled around, and Callisto’s eyes widened when she saw him.
She averted her gaze before facing him with a decidedly militant glint in her lovely eyes. Yes, she was definitely planning some misdeed.
“Up to more mischief, I see,” he said dryly, pointedly staring at the spyglass in her hands.
She scowled in evident consternation, before dipping into a quick curtsey. “Viscount Sherbrooke, how pleasant to see you up and about so early.”
Her tone suggested she was everything but pleased.
The memory of their kiss lingered in her thoughts, and a delightful blush reddened her cheeks. The answering jolt in his body was savage, and arousal curled through him. Her sister glanced between them, speculation heavy in golden brown eyes very similar to Callisto’s own.
“We were just admiring the sky.”
“And the cottage and the lake and our parents who are taking a morning stroll. I wonder what you could possibly be thinking,” he said in a warning tone. He would not let her off lightly if she were plotting to use tricks to push his father toward her mother after their conversation last night.
Unpredictably she grinned, surprising Graham. He had expected evasive stammers or something of the sort. Instead, she tossed her head and dared to wink.
“How wonderful you are not privy to my thoughts, my lord. If you will excuse us, Letty and I promised to join Lord Byrbook, Lord Duncan, and Miss Mary Peckham and Lady Shelby for a morning stroll.”
Then she gripped her sister’s hand and all but ran away. He stared bemused as she slipped in the mud, and her laughter floated on the air as she caught herself. Graham narrowed his eyes. Miss Callisto Middleton would need to be carefully watched.
A fierce rush of pleasure filled him at the notion. He feasted his eyes on the delightful picture of her rear, despite the warm crimson pelisse that wrapped her slender form. His blood pumping fast as he remembered every single sensation of desire from squeezing that nubile body into his while he had ravished her with his kisses. Oh yes, …he would thoroughly enjoy keeping a close eye on that mischievous minx for the duration of the house party.
Chapter 5
A sinking sensation formed in the pit of Callie’s stomach. The viscount was on to her. Drat! She scowled at the very alarming and improper way he shadowed her for the whole morning. Surely people would start to think his behavior was very peculiar. He’d been playing billiards with Mr. Thomas Brampton earlier, and as soon as the young Viscount Sherbrooke spied her, he had abandoned the man and the game to observe her. Shameful and outrageous! And worse, she blushed like a silly miss whenever their gazes collided.
The memory of his kiss had haunted her throughout the long night and still lingered with her. She swore every time she felt his stare, and whenever she returned his regard, that wicked knowledge shone from him, and she became overly warm and out of sorts in so many wretched ways.
A panting Letty hurried over to her. “It is done! Mama is now by the lake, and I slipped the note beneath the earl’s door. Surely he will meet her there soon.”
“Hush,” Callie said, glancing to see how close the viscount stood. Holliwell Manor was a majestic three-story building set in perfectly landscaped grounds. The house built to replace a less prestigious building was elegantly classical in design. Each elevation was perfectly majestic and fitting to the local scenery.
The grounds were equally splendid, although the formal gardens could not be seen at their best at this time of year as few flowers blossomed. However, Callie could imagine it as a riot of colors in summer. Then the fountains, artfully placed statuary of ancient gods and goddesses, would be surrounded by leafy bowers and exotic flowers. There were pretty walks through the woodland interspersed with a number of strategically placed gazeboes and some very believable mock ruins. The house had a wonderful conservatory and several greenhouses where fruit and flowers could be grown out of season. She thought it was a very special house, one that would be very precious to the family. She stopped her musing on the perfections of Holliwell Manor as she felt something disturb her reverie. She did not turn around, but she anticipated Viscount Sherbrooke to be right behind her.
“Why are you whispering?” Letty demanded.
“I do not wish Viscount Sherbrooke to know what we are doing.”
Interest flashed in her sister’s eyes. “I knew it! You blushed frightfully this morning when you saw him. How is he aware of our antics?” her sister’s elegant brow winged upward. “Callie…are you blushing again?”
With a scowl, she grabbed her sister’s arm and tugged her toward an unoccupied gazebo. She smiled politely at the few gentlemen and ladies strolling about. The morning was unexpectedly warm, but she sensed it would not last long, for she could see the rain clouds in the far-off distance. And her plan hinged on that rain actually appearing.
“Will you tell me what happened with the viscount, or am I left to guess?”
Once they were cleared of any listening ears, she muttered, “He kissed me.”
Letty faltered, forcing Callie to stop.
In round-eyed astonishment, her sister glared at her. “That leech! Ruining Vinnette did not satisfy—”
“He did not ruin her,” Callie said quickly, disconcerted by how she wanted to defend him. Did she dare to like the viscount?
“Oh,” Letty said, her ire deflated. “Still…what did he mean by the kiss?” she asked with naïve curiosity.
Callie lifted a shoulder in a shrug, not wanting to admit she had wondered the very same thing for hours. Was he interested in her, or was he playing the libertine? “I do not want to think about that now…we need to direct all our efforts to Mama. She was refusing to come down this morning for fear of encountering the earl.”
“Yes, I heard all those mutterings about the dreadful mistake she made last night. It took much convincing for her to accept the earl’s invitation to a stroll this morning,” Letty said with a heavy sigh.
“We did shamefully eavesdrop, and the earl worked really hard to persuade Mama,” Callie replied, wondering for the first time if she should allow the entire scheme to run its course naturally as the viscount suggested.
Then she recalled how delighted her mother had seemed before she’d allowed the fear to burrow in her heart. But what did she fear? “Letty…do you think Mama is afraid to love again?”
Letty swallowed, a shadow of pain darkening her eyes. “We all still miss Papa so dreadfully. Perhaps she is afraid. Mama did just now inform us we will be quitting the house party early!”
They shared a speaking glance, and said in unison, “She is running!”
Callie worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Oh Letty, I have been so single-mindedly concentrated on securing Mama’s happiness, I never truly expected that she would resist the earl when she so clearly admires him. We must put a stop to the rowing!”
Letty nodded, and they hurried across the too-large lawns toward the lake in the distance. As they approached, she spied her mother peering up at the earl, a frown on her face. The man only seemed besotted while her mother appeared cautious.
“Mama,” Callie cried, pressing a hand atop her head to secure her bonnet under the sharp gust of wind.
Their mother turned and waved, a smile lighting her face. Their mother was still an extraordinarily pretty woman, without a hint of gray in her vibrant mass of primrose-colored hair. Her eyes were a pale gree
n, and her figure had retained its elegant slenderness. As they drew closer, she spied the viscount ambling from the direction of the impressive stables over to them. He was devilishly handsome in an open black great-coat thrown casually over his dark blue jacket, gray waistcoat, dark trousers, and the de rigueur white shirt and cravat. His dark hair was perfectly groomed, and his beautiful dark blue eyes quickly scanned her body.
Her breath hitched as she gasped at how her heart raced so mortifyingly. Thankfully she had worn her best gown today with a green redingote and a stylish matching bonnet. She knew she was quite fetching to look at, and the appreciative glint in his eye warmed her. Callie dearly hoped her attraction to the man wasn’t evident for all to see. Worse, she did not want him to now believe she was trying to set her cap for him!
“What a charming coincidence to find you here, Miss Middleton.”
Callie’s thoughts churned furiously, and she glared at the viscount. “I was about to see if Mama wanted to play croquet with a few of us by the eastern side of the lawns.”
“The grounds are wet,” the earl hastily inserted. “I would not recommend it.”
“Yes, and Lord Prescott is urgently searching for you, Father. Something about the news of an investment you are both a part of.”
The earl started in surprise. “He is?”
“Quite so,” the viscount drawled mockingly.
Callie gaped at him, suspecting that he fibbed.
“Robert…” her mother began, “Oh! I meant to say, Lord Deerwood, please attend to your business.”
The earl seemed crestfallen. “I do suppose we could row on the lake another time, Lady Danby.”
Callie touched their mother’s hand briefly. “Mama, you’ve wished so very much to row—”
“And father has been telling me how much he wished for news on the copper mines he’s invested in. Surely the rowing can wait.”
“The boats are already prepared,” Callie interposed.
“And Lord Prescott is waiting.”
Their parents’ gazes volleyed between them, and they shared a glance Callie could not interpret. Letty seemed amused and did nothing to hide her reaction.
Her mother chose that minute to say, “I do know you also enjoy rowing, my dear. Why don’t you take the boat out with the viscount? I did not sleep well last night, and I fear it has brought on a mild headache. I should rest before it becomes a greater discomfort.”
“Yes, I would be honored to show you the lake, Miss Middleton,” the viscount drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I am sure it will be a relaxing endeavor.”
Her mother turned bright, curious eyes to her, and a heaviness settled in Callie’s stomach. Perhaps the rain would not come at all, and her twitching nose had been an anomaly. “Perhaps for a few minutes, I believe rain might be coming soon,” she said, admitting that her agreement was because she had actually wanted to spend a few minutes with the viscount. Callie had never been the sort of person to shy away from complicated situations, she preferred to understand them, and the curious sensations stirring in her heart caused by the viscount warranted close examination.
“Oh, my daughter does have a nose for sensing the rain,” the viscountess said with an airy laugh. “It is very fascinating.”
“How curious then she would want you to be caught in the rain, my lady,” he said smoothly, his dark eyes pinning her.
She refused to squirm. Callie couldn’t very well admit that she had been hoping the rain would trap them once they’ve reached the far end of the lake. That would be violating the unspoken agreement they had. Dusk would rapidly fall, and with the rains, it would be impossible to return, and they would be forced to spend the night in the cottage she and Letty had painstakingly arranged to be aired and cleaned!
A few minutes later, she was seated comfortably in the rowing boat with the viscount. Her mother, the earl, and Letty had waved them off before walking away. Now that she was alone with the viscount, an unexpected wave of shyness consumed her. The silliness of it made her frown several times, and the dratted man did not help by staring at her. His powerful shoulders lifted as he clawed back the oars taking them across the wide picturesque lake.
“I do not think we should go too far,” she warned.
He glanced at the sky. “I doubt we have much to worry about.”
“Do not be deceived by the sun, my nose has been twitching!”
That drew a smile from him. “Twitching.”
“Yes. I could be reading or taking a stroll or eating breakfast with my family, and my nose just moves on its own. It smells or senses the rain.”
He cast her an arresting glance. “I find that notion decidedly alarming.”
Callie surprised them both by laughing. “It really confounds my family. But I can always tell when it is about to rain. Perhaps my nose is enchanted.”
“What do you enjoy besides playing matchmaker, Callisto,” he said, and it was as if he savored the sound of her name on his lips.
She flushed but did not look away. “I very much enjoy reading.”
“Ah, yes…I had the pleasure once of watching you for several minutes. You were so engrossed you did not sense my presence.”
She clasped her gloved hands in her lap, recalling the encounter, and how rude she’d thought him at the time for walking away without murmuring a greeting.
“I admire that you do nothing half measure,” he said.
Surprise jolted through Callie. Her father had repeated a similar refrain several times to her. “Why would you think I did not?” she asked shakily.
“When I watched you read with your entire face and heart. I felt the passion you saw in your book. I knew when your characters were happy or sad. Everything about you was immersed. I daresay even your will to push your mother into the path of my father speaks to your character. The way you responded to my kiss…”
She gasped.
“There was no shyness when I coaxed your lips to part for me. No fright when I touched my tongue to yours. You hurtled towards the desire sweeping through you…and I can tell that you would approach everything with such unrestrained passion. Whether it be reading, dancing, riding a horse, playing matchmaker… or kissing.”
A crack of thunder saved her from the necessity of a reply. Though she couldn’t imagine what she might have said. The sky opened, and rain began to fall in earnest.
He started to row the boat to the side to take them to the shore but paused after glancing behind her. Callie knew what he had spied. The cottage.
Dear God!
“We should head back to the estate,” she cried out.
“You’ll catch your death by the time we reach back there,” he said, grunting with the effort to row as fast as he could toward the embankment leading to the cottage.
With a sense of shock, she realized she had fallen into the trap of her own making. What would the viscount say…or do when he saw what awaited them in the cottage?
Chapter 6
It was a mad dash through the rain, and Graham held onto Miss Middleton’s hand as she slipped in the mud. He caught her, and the blasted woman laughed, lifting her face to the rain. Her bonnet was soaked, and she already appeared like a drowned rat. If he had taken several minutes to row them back to the estate, surely, she would have drowned in the deluge.
He tugged her forward. Unfortunately, the cottage had been empty for a while and should be dusty and quite uncomfortable. He dearly hoped there was no leakage. Thunder rumbled ominously, and he feared they were in for a winter squall. They clambered up the small steps, wrenched the door open, and spilled into shocking warmth. Graham’s steps faltered, and he looked down at her. Miss Middleton withdrew her hand from his and stared at him with wide eyes.
“You have been quite busy with your mischief, Miss Middleton,” he murmured, surveying the very toasty room which held a roaring fire. “It seems there is no end to your deception.”
Her affected serenity was ruffled momentarily, then she rallied
quickly and replied, “Not deception, surely, it is more like gentle encouragement. Quite a different thing altogether.”
He swore under his breath. “Is that the distinction you use to justify your action.”
“Yes.”
Shameless minx!
The cottage was warm and had been recently aired and cleaned. The scent of lemon wax was redolent on the air. Pinecones, evergreens, and mistletoe decorated the small room, and there were fresh linens on the bed. Surprise jerked through him when he noted the carafe of wine on a small table by the windows. There seemed to be marzipan, gingerbread, and cake as well on a large white platter. Good God.
“However did you get the servants to go along with this madness!” Surely they had questioned her intentions and gossiped amongst themselves.
“My papa usually lamented that I was a silver-tongued devil,” she said with a quick smile and her usual buoyancy. “But I did convey that these orders were from…you.”
Her impudence knew no bounds.
She strolled over to the fire, and removed her bonnet, resting it on the mantle. Then she tugged off her coat and gloves, placing them on the grate near the fire. She did not appear as wet as he’d imagined, but her dress did cling in a few damp places. Kneeling down, she removed her half-boots, revealing white silken stockings. She stood, faced him, then lifted her chin in challenge as if to say ‘I did it and there is nothing you can do.’ Something primal in his gut stirred, a direct response to that defiance.
Humor suddenly lit in her expressive eyes, and her lips curved.
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