Page 17 of Project Duke

Even though she didn’t want to admit it, having a child and a husband were secretly delicious ideas. She did crave the love she’d seen between her parents, the love she’d hoped to have before William King had destroyed that part of her long ago.

She nodded. That was good enough. He still didn’t know about the sleuth agency, and he may still thunder when he would eventually find out. But she’d get his promise in writing in their marriage contract.

Her heart slammed hard. Was she really about to agree to get married?

But there was one thing she needed him to promise, too.

“If I’m not to have lovers, neither will you.”

He chuckled. “I have a suspicion that once I have my hands on you, that promise will be easy to keep, Lady Calliope.”

A warm thrill ran through her. She stumbled over an uneven stone in the sidewalk and Kelford caught her hand and steadied her.

Still, despite just what he’d said, he would likely not be very interested in his role as a husband. Which suited her perfectly.

For Spencer, she thought. This was for Spencer.

She felt like she stood on the edge of a cliff, staring into the dark abyss, about to jump.

“Then, Your Grace, I will marry you.”

7

“Calliope, how lovely to see you!” exclaimed Penelope as Calliope entered the sitting room of Newdale Place the next day.

She looked lovely with her glowing face, blushing cheekbones, and shiny eyes. Pregnancy suited her.

With a welcoming smile, Preston jumped to his feet from a blue sofa that echoed the warm pastel-blue walls. Calliope found the drawing room of Preston and Penelope’s new place so inviting, with artwork of sunlit, blooming gardens and spring landscapes, most of which Penelope had painted herself. Three large windows let in plenty of daylight. Penelope had carefully picked modern furniture for the room, but several ancestral vases and other art pieces had been brought from Chalworth, the traditional ducal residence of Grandhampton. Chalworth was being repaired after a devastating fire, but it would likely never be the same.

“Lovely to see you, sister,” said Preston warmly, his sharp gaze scanning her quickly. “Are you well?”

Oh, Preston’s face would lose that smile in a minute, Calliope thought. Nathaniel was just arriving.

It was heartwarming to see her brother and his new wife so happy together. From a man with hard edges who was too quick to bristle and reject people, Preston had turned into a warm, smiling man, and Calliope loved the change.

Calliope was so nervous. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to get married so spontaneously when for years she’d claimed she wouldn’t marry. And now, very willingly, she was going to have a husband.

It was for Spencer, she told herself again. For Spencer.

And she’d be free from William.

“Yes, all is well,” she said, forcing out a smile. “I wanted to see you. How are you feeling, Penelope?”

“I’m feeling fine,” said Penelope as she gestured for Calliope to take a seat on the sofa across from hers while Preston took his place by Penelope’s side. “Preston is worried oil paint fumes may be bad for the baby, but I’m being careful.”

Calliope chuckled nervously and glanced at the door. She saw Kelford ride up on a horse and stop behind her carriage. And, heavens, he looked so striking… She’d seen more than a few female heads turn in his wake, both at the ball and during their stroll on Bond Street.

They may turn, but he would be hers…

Something pleasant squeezed in her chest at the thought. Even though he’d never love her, he would still be hers. She would never love him, either, of course. All her feelings towards him were nothing but infatuation…lust, perhaps.

He should reach the drawing room at any moment. She threw a glance at Preston, who was happily ignorant about the visitor and poured tea into a cup for her.

What would he say? What if he refused Nathaniel? And what would they do then? As the head of the family, Preston was the one to accept or decline any proposals she received. Could she dare marry Kelford even if Preston refused to approve it?

The door to the drawing room opened, and Porter, Preston’s butler, entered. “Duke of Kelford.”

Just as Calliope had feared, Preston’s face fell, and his arm froze with the teacup in his hand. He glared at Calliope. “What is he doing here?”