A Promising Little Scandal: (Sensual Scandals - Book 2) Read online

  A Promising Little Scandal

  (Sensual Scandals - Book 2)

  Tabetha Waite

  Also by Tabetha Waite

  Also by Tabetha Waite

  Ways of Love Historical Romance Series

  How it All Began for the Baron (Christmas prequel novella)

  Why the Earl is After the Girl (Book 1)

  Where the Viscount Met His Match (Book 2)

  When a Duke Pursues a Lady (Book 3)

  Who the Marquess Dares to Desire (Book 4)

  What a Gentleman Does for Love (Book 5)

  Season of the Spinster Series

  Triana’s Spring Seduction (Book 1)

  Isabella’s Secret Summer (Book 2)

  The Spinster’s Alluring Season (Book 2.5)

  Alyssa’s Autumn Affair (Book 3)

  Korina’s Wild Winter (Book 4)

  Wanton Wastrels

  The Rapscallion’s Romance

  The Marauder’s Mistress

  Sensual Scandals

  A Jolly Little Scandal (0.5 prequel)

  An Innocent Little Scandal (Book 1)

  A Promising Little Scandal (Book 2)

  Novellas

  The Harlot’s Hero

  Frozen Fancy

  The Piper’s Paramour

  His Yuletide Dove

  Novels

  Behind a Moonlit Veil

  The Secrets of Shadows

  Kiernan Fantasy Series

  The Kingdoms of Kiernan (Kiernan – Book 1)

  Shared Worlds

  Vanquished (K Bromberg’s Driven World)

  Collections

  An Everlasting Amour (A collection of short stories)

  An Everlasting Christmas Amour

  An Everlasting Regency Amour

  An Everlasting Regency Amour – Volume 2

  The Wedding Wager

  Heyer Society (non-fiction essays)

  The Garden Wedding (children’s book for charity)

  For my friend, Joetta Kay. May you rest in peace surrounded by a hundred toothy fossils since Doug never let you have his rock.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  London, England

  April 1824

  * * *

  “Men are so annoying.”

  Lady Calliope Bevelstroke rolled her eyes as another bouquet arrived to fill the townhouse with its strong, floral fragrance. She wondered if the gentleman of society competed for whoever could send the most overwhelming blossoms.

  “Callie, please, do try to sit like the daughter of a duke.”

  With a heavy sigh, Calliope turned from her sideways position in the chair and settled her skirts in front of her, as her slippered feet touched the floor. “Of course, Isa. I should so hate to be a disappointment amongst the ton.”

  Her eldest sister, Isadora, had been reading the paper, but now she slapped it into her lap and glared at her with firm, gray eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a perfect chignon, her clothes neatly pressed. But then, Calliope didn’t know a time when Isadora hadn’t been properly put together. Even when she was cross, she seldom lost her temper. In truth, she was quite… emotionless, but that didn’t mean Calliope didn’t love her deeply, or that her sister didn’t care for her.

  “We might be the unofficial diamonds of the season, but when you are on the top of the world there is nowhere else to go but…” She slid her gaze to the floor and lifted a brow, letting Calliope figure the rest out on her own.

  She sniffed and gave a toss of her fiery red hair. “Oh, don’t be such a stick, Isa. You know that I always act with decorum, while our dear sisters, on the other hand…” She mirrored her sister’s expression.

  Isa sighed heavily. “Might I remind you that Araminta is happily married to the Earl of Somers, while Olivia is a duchess?”

  “Indeed,” Calliope nodded. “I was present for the double ceremony. And yet, you would chide me for my behavior in this chair when Minty dared to sneak out and meet Grey on Scandal Lane and Livy ran away from London to Canterbury without a proper chaperone.”

  “They were fortunate not to have to suffer the consequences of their actions,” Isa returned in the same even tone. “But you may not be so lucky when it comes to being the target of the malicious gossip of the city. Rumors can easily destroy a young lady’s reputation, which would be regrettable if you hope to become a woman of independent means, as you claim.”

  Calliope held out her hand and inspected her neatly trimmed nails. “I never thought I should like to be someone who enjoyed digging in the dirt looking for old bones—”

  “I believe they are called fossils,” Isadora chimed in dryly, but Calliope ignored her.

  “—but I daresay that the Egyptian Hall has many intriguing artifacts and curiosities that I should like to explore further.” Her smile widened. “Can’t you just imagine it? Me? A famous adventurer, known throughout the world!” She held her arms up as the headline was already being waved about in her imagination.

  “You do have rather… high expectations,” Isadora said with a wry twist of her lips. “It shall be difficult enough to be recognized as a lady in a masculine dominated society, but if you succeed, I have no doubt you shall do so with flair.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But then, I suppose I would be quite hypocritical if I said I didn’t intend to do the same, although my aspirations have more to do with industry.”

  “Ah, yes,” Calliope said thoughtfully. “Your railroad venture. I had nearly forgotten. That sounds terribly boring. Are you sure you wouldn’t wish to become a heroine and set out on a twenty-mile journey like Laura Secord in order to warn the British forces in Canada of an impending attack from the Americas?”

  Isadora rolled her eyes. “I have no interest in embarking on such a harrowing journey through the wilderness to be remembered for my heroics. I should rather be noted for my industrious nature.” She got to her feet and tossed the paper aside.

  Calliope lifted a brow. “Going for a walk?” she teased.

  “Yes,” Isa snapped. “Although it looks like it could rain, I daresay it’s better than spending any more time with you and your ridiculous chatter.”

  She gave a sniff of disgust then quit the room, but Calliope knew she wasn’t truly upset, because her oldest sister seldom got disconcerted about anything. There was only one time when she’d witnessed Isadora lose her composure. A sapphire ring had been found in their father’s desk at his former estate, Marlington Hall, and when it was revealed that he had intended to take another wife before his untimely death, it was obvious that his secrecy surrounding those plans had bothered her. Isa had been the only one who knew about it. She had discovered the jeweler’s receipt when she had been assisting their father with the estate ledgers. Calliope still didn’t know the reasons behind her obvious distress at the time, whe
ther it was because she had been asked to keep such a revelation from the rest of her sisters, or if was for more personal reasons.

  The former Duke of Marlington had been known as the ‘Black Widower,’ because he had married four different women who had perished under various, but equally tragic circumstances. None of the half-sisters had ever known their prospective mothers, except through an artist’s eyes in the portrait gallery.

  Isadora’s mother died when her daughter was just a year old after a fall from a horse, Araminta’s from fever the year her daughter had turned three, and Olivia’s from childbirth, a fact that made the youngest Bevelstroke sister quite uncertain about marrying Miles, the Duke of Gravesend, who also happened to be their father’s sole heir. However, at Olivia’s behest, he continued to use the Gravesend title, rather than Marlington. Calliope wasn’t certain what he intended to do about the estate and the title, if he would continue to hold possession over both of the familial lines, or if perhaps he might request a Royal prerogative and allow the Marlington dukedom to revert to the Crown.

  Calliope didn’t care either way. She had never been as sentimental as her younger sister. Although she had loved her father dearly, she knew there was nothing she could do to change the past, nor what was gone. She had lamented the absence of her mother for a brief time when she’d been younger, the lady dying from a weak heart when Calliope was just six months old. However, it was difficult to miss that which had never truly been there. She wasn’t old enough to remember her mother, merely the prospect, but with compassion and guidance, she had quickly come to realize that the things which truly mattered in life was love and family, and she had that in abundance because of her sisters. Now that Livy and Minty were wed, that circle was starting to grow once again.

  Calliope blew out a heavy breath. Unfortunately, without Olivia around, she was feeling rather lonely. They were the youngest siblings, and at nearly three and twenty, they had shared the most confidences. However, this also opened the door to new opportunities to set out on her own. Calliope was ready to take charge of her life and perhaps even travel the world, if she was so inclined. Their father had left them each a generous dowry, that if not handed over to their husband upon their marriage, was the perfect way to make a fresh start, perhaps even somewhere new.

  While she loved England and didn’t plan to leave, she had considered different possibilities for her future, including a temporary visit to her father’s hunting box in Broxbourne. Then again, when she considered visiting Lyme Regis and searching for prehistoric fossils along the coastal cliffs, it did sound rather appealing, especially after she’d saw the Ichthyosaurus platyodon, the latest item of interest in William Bullock’s collection.

  Not to mention that a visit to a seaside village sounded terribly delightful, now that the weather was starting to get a bit warmer.

  She further pondered the prospect as she left the parlor, giving one of the flower petals from her latest admirer a flick of her fingers and dismissing the card completely. No doubt it had some sort of empty flattery written upon it. She sighed, for although she did like the attention from the opposite sex, gentlemen truly didn’t have a clue when it came to courting. Not all ladies preferred to be wooed in the same, boring fashion.

  Didn’t it mean anything to actually know what the woman liked if he was hoping to win her hand?

  For Calliope, hothouse roses were certainly not it.

  Sebastian Ford, Viscount Blakely, tossed a gambling token in his palm and slouched in his seat at Boodle’s as he stared out the window. He wasn’t just bored. He was utterly and thoroughly bored, and the present company just couldn’t compare to the lively chats he used to have with the Earl of Somers. Unfortunately, ever since his bosom companion had chosen to leave London some months ago, embarking on a life of wedded bliss in the country, he had been left to his own devices.

  It was deucedly inconvenient.

  “I say, that’s a dreary look you’re wearing, Blakely. I hope you’re not planning to leave the game.”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes as he glanced at the middle-aged earl with his paunchy midsection. “I regret that when it comes to present company,” he drawled as he tossed down the playing chip, “Brook’s, just across the street, does appear to be a bit more to my tastes.”

  The earl made an expression which could have only been considered a pout. Seb wasn’t a fan when the hopeful debutantes in society looked at him that way, but in a man the earl’s age, it was quite ridiculous. “But if you leave, I shouldn’t have the chance to recoup my losses,” the man whined.

  Sebastian accepted his coat and hat from the waiter he’d signaled and turned back to the man. “How shall I rest easy knowing that I bested you out of all these shillings?” He jangled the coins in the purse and then tucked them securely in his jacket as he walked away.

  He strode outdoors, but when he would have gone inside the gentleman’s establishment across the street, Sebastian changed his mind and turned on his heel, wondering if White’s might offer more stimulating entertainment. He adopted a lazy stride as he made his way down the street, but when he eventually paused before the bow window, he decided that maybe gambling wasn’t what he was in the mood for at all.

  In truth, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.

  Very inconvenient, indeed.

  He stood there with a frown on his face and contemplated his other options. He could visit his favorite bawdy house, he supposed, since he was in between mistresses, but surprisingly enough, that didn’t even hold the proper enthusiasm that it usually did.

  He glanced up at the clear, blue sky and tried to tell himself that it was a perfect day, but even the heavens had turned gray with the disappearance of his closest comrade. He couldn’t understand why Grey had to marry when they had been perfectly content with their bachelor lives. No strings attached, just as Seb preferred it, and until recently, it had been the same for Grey.

  But that was before the arrival of the Bevelstroke sisters. Even before the Season had hit London, they had managed to make more than a few ripples in the gossip pond. They had quite taken the ton by storm with their forward, independent women ideals, and yet, two of the sisters had managed to snag a duke and an earl in record time—his earl, to be precise.

  He had been quite sour about it all when he’d received an unexpected letter from Grey telling him that he had tied the knot. If Seb hadn’t been sitting down, he would have likely fallen over. He knew Grey had been besotted with Araminta Bevelstroke, but he had never imagined that their affair would end up at the altar.

  More’s the pity.

  And yet, Seb couldn’t help but be truly happy for his long-time friend. Ever since their days at Eton, he knew the instant that love’s arrow had pierced Grey directly in the heart, nearly from the first moment he’d laid eyes on the gel.

  Of course, their union also meant that Calliope Bevelstroke would be Grey’s sister-in-law, so perhaps this change of events could be a good thing. Seb had always had a weakness when it came to redheads and the fiery, copper locks that graced the lady’s head had caught his immediate attention. Regrettably, he respected Grey too much to dally with the lady. Other than a few flirtatious encounters, it would never go as far as the bedchamber.

  At two and thirty, Seb had decided long ago that he was not the marrying kind. It might be expected of him to carry on the line as a viscount, but he would leave the begetting of heirs to some poor sod, as he wasn’t interested in the least. It wasn’t even that he had some terrible family tragedy that had caused him to shy away from fatherhood, he just didn’t care for the sniveling brats that arrived from procreation.

  Granted, as an only child, that might have been the root cause of his reluctance to sire any children, or perhaps it was seeing Grey’s sister with her nine-count brood. Of course, she appeared to be perfectly content with all those tiny hands grasping at her skirts, but the sight had always made Seb’s skin crawl. He much preferred the company of adult females to those with
sticky fingers.

  There had only been one time he’d come close to even considering something more with a woman, had entertained the dangerous thought only briefly, but thankfully, he’d had the wherewithal to put an end to things before his heart had become fully engaged. She was still around London and now and then their paths crossed, and he was grateful that he’d come to his senses before he’d made a terrible mistake. Now when he saw her, he felt absolutely nothing, not even desire.

  It only went further to prove that love didn’t really exist. It was just an illusion, passion wrapped up in a neat little package as a way for people to come together. Then, once the vows were spoken, the flame eventually died out, but by then it was too late.

  He feared that one day Grey would come to him with the same complaint, but if there was one person he hoped might succeed within a happy marriage, it was him. He was a good man and deserved nothing less.

  Unfortunately, this revelation didn’t assist Seb in finding a cure for his boredom.

  But then, as if suddenly realizing where he was, he smiled broadly and took off walking once more. There was one person he could bedevil—his grandfather. The old codger always put a bit of a spring in Seb’s step, because although they were family, they didn’t really get along. At least, outwardly it appeared that way. They traded insults like most people in society traded compliments, but it had always been thus between them, and Seb wouldn’t have it any other way. As a boy he’d thought him to be a hateful old curmudgeon, but as he’d grown into a man, Seb realized that he could relate to a lot of what the man grumbled about.