Benjamin chuckled. “Well, you have found us.”
“What is the name of this club?” Rose asked.
“The Historical Society for Female Curators.”
She smirked. “I hope they are making the London Society of Antiquaries nervous.”
Sebastian’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “It just formed, so they are looking to partner with people like you.”
“Try this,” Easton said, handing him the mouthpiece of the shisha.
Sebastian took it as Keaton explained, “It’s kind of like smoking a pipe but not.”
Rose frowned at his description. “No, it isn’t.”
Her father glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Not that I would know.”
Keaton and Easton laughed. Calvert lifted a skeptical brow at his daughter, and she rolled her eyes. The older man turned back to Sebastian. “How is England? The London season will be starting soon.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Father, I’m not going.”
“I think your mother would be beside herself to see you in pants.”
She sighed. Sebastian took a puff from the mouthpiece and coughed. Easton slapped him on the back. “Welcome to Latakia.”
“The season is still as busy as ever. It seems to start a little earlier every year,” Sebastian responded to Calvert.
“That is how I met your mother during her season,” Calvert said dreamily.
His daughter beamed at him.
“I never plan to go back to London. Too many rules for me,” Keaton said.
“Me too,” Easton added.
Calvert snorted. “You aren’t going back because of a woman. I have told you time and time again you can’t run from your feelings. Whether she is here or on the other side of the world, you are going to feel what you are going to feel.”
Easton smirked but there was a hardness to it. “I’m fine. Calvert, let it go.”
The older man’s words hit Sebastian in his gut. Likely because they were true. He missed Diana so much.
“Devons has women problems,” Easton said, seemingly trying to shut up Calvert about his own secrets.
Sebastian frowned at him, but he shrugged and grinned.
“You do?” Keaton asked him and chuckled. “You do appear to have the same pained expression Easton carries around.”
Easton glared at him, but it only made Keaton smile more broadly. Wanting to change the subject, Sebastian turned his gaze to the Calverts and said, “I hoped you would be interested in starting a correspondence with the curator club’s board members to provide them artifacts to display in their exhibits at Seely House.”
Rose Calvert stared at him, intrigued. Her father asked, “Who are the ladies standing it up?”
“Lady Hawley, the Duchess of Lusby, Lady Hensley, Lady Esme Tennis, and a Miss Sara Martin.”
“Lisbeth is one of them!”
Sebastian’s head swiveled to Rose. She was studying Easton, concerned. Calvert nodded. “Good for her. I heard her husband passed away a while back.”
Rose scowled. “We aren’t going to help them.”
