He speared a chunk of pineapple with his fork and turned his attention to reports from Khartoum and the earthquake, which had produced severe damage in Andalusia. He reminded himself that he must divert additional funds to the relief efforts.
“Good morning, Benny,” announced his sister cheerfully as she glided into the breakfast room.
He stood and offered her a formal bow. “My lady.”
He was going to have to convince the hoyden to cease referring to him as Benny, at least before the servants and Miss Hilgrove. Of course, Miss Hilgrove would not long be a part of his day.
Six more days until he won their wager.
Six more days until she walked out of Westmorland House, never to return.
Why did the thought fill him with such a deep pang of regret?
He settled back down and busied himself with the newspaper whilst Callie filled her plate. Thoughts of Miss Hilgrove were temporarily replaced by news concerning the blockade of Formosa’s coast. But by the time he reached a lengthy article concerning German colonial policy, his mind had once more returned toher.
She had smelled so sweetly, and in that bold, vibrant dress, her hair worn softly rather than in the severe knot she ordinarily favored, she had been so feminine and lovely. The scents of orris root and Pears soap would give him an erection from this moment on, he feared.
Fucking hell.What was wrong with him?
His sister seated herself with a happy hum.
“Why the devil are you so cheerful?” he asked.
She paused, appearing startled by his grim query. “And why are younotcheerful, Benny?”
She required a reason? He had legions of them. This particular dialogue could not be conducted with an audience.
He flicked a glance to the servants who attended them. “That will be all, thank you.”
Callie slanted a knowing look in his direction the moment they were alone. “Oh dear. Are you going to take me to task for sending Isabella to your library? I saw you hiding in the shadows when she left the room, you know.”
Isabella.
The mere utterance of her given name should have no effect upon him. And yet, he could not deny the frisson it sent over him. The hunger.
No more of this nonsense, you dolt.
“Perhaps we ought to begin with why you intentionally sent her to my private library,” he countered wryly.
Callie’s expression turned mischievous. “We were looking for a book. I thought perhaps it could be found in your private library. You are so territorial about that bloody chamber, I did not dare venture within myself.”
“That will not wash, my dear.” Grimly, he laid down his fork. “Miss Hilgrove told me she had been sent toyourlibrary to fetch a volume of poetry.”
“Of course I told her it was my library. She would not have gone if she supposed an ogre such as you awaited within.” Callie’s voice was light as she forked up a bite of poached egg.
“An ogre now, am I?” The baggage. He found her about as humorous as reports of all the Andalusian villages which had been decimated in the earthquake. “Callie, you had her hunting down a volume of poetry in my library, knowing full well she would never find that sort of drivel within.”
Callie gave him a withering look. “First, poetry is not drivel, Benny. And second, how should I know you have no poetry within your library? You do not allow anyone within. There was a volume of poetry by Lord Byron I have not been able to locate that I wanted to share with the Lady’s Suffrage Society members who dined here last night.”
Which reminded him.
He fixed his wayward sister with his most damning frown. “You can be thankful the Byron poetry is missing, but rest assured I am not responsible for its loss. His poetry is wretched. Further, I must insist you cease referring to me as Benny in mixed company and that you notify me before throwing balls for scandalous artists and dinner for agitators. To say nothing of inviting my female typewriter to join you as a guest and then inciting her to trespass in my private territory.”
There.He had been far too lenient with Callie because he loved her, and because for all her ebullience, she had been through more than any lady should have had to endure, and at a tender age. He knew better than anyone that her zeal hid a great deal of pain. But since her return from the Continent, she had been running his household. Whilst it was true he appreciated her iron rule of the staff since he was a bachelor and had no bloody wish to quibble over menus with the housekeeper, he also needed to remind her of her position.
But his words seemed to have the opposite of the intended effect, for her chin went up, and her shoulders went back, and fire blazed from her dark eyes. She had their mother’s Gallic beauty.
“When did you become such an arrogant oaf? Where is the brother I remember?”
