Wisely, he refrained from adding that bit. She owed him, after all, Lady Calliope. She was the reason for his desperation. She was the one who had forced his hand.
The aunt pressed a hand to her heart, looking overjoyed. “Ohma chère! Your brother will be overjoyed when he hears you are marrying after all.”
“Yes, I imagine Benny will be pleased.” Lady Calliope’s voice was wan, her smile unconvincing.
“When does Westmorland return from his honeymoon?” Sin prodded now. Because he was running out of time. He needed to get married within the next few days, not within the next few weeks.
Nor could he afford to wait for Westmorland to drag his heels or otherwise attempt to wrest his sister from Sin’s grasp. He fully expected Lady Calliope to do everything in her power to extricate herself from her promises. The less time she had to achieve her goal, the better.
“Not for over a month’s time,” Lady Calliope answered.
“How much time have we to prepare the wedding?” the aunt asked, clapping her hands.
“One week,” Sin said.
“A few months,” Lady Calliope said simultaneously.
Her gaze was alarmed when it flew back to his. “One week?” she squeaked.
He grinned. “Since I have compromised you, my darling, I am afraid we must get married as soon as possible.”
“Oh yes, you must,” agreed the aunt quite helpfully. “This is all my fault, for arriving late. But do not worry, darling girl.TanteFanchette is here now!”
And thank fuck for that, Sin thought to himself.
The first part of his plan had been accomplished. Next, he was going to pay a call to the offices of one J.M. White and Sons. He had a manuscript to collect.
Confessions of a Sinful Earlwas at an end, and so, too, were his problems.
He hoped.
Callie hated lyingto her beloved aunt.
But short of confessing everything, including her role in writingConfessions of a Sinful Earlto Aunt Fanchette, she did not know what she could do. To make matters worse, in true fashion, her aunt had decided that Callie was madly in love with the Earl of Sinclair and that spending the night alone with him had beentrès romantique.
Callie did not have the heart to correct her assumptions. Fortunately, her aunt was of a far more liberal persuasion than her brother. If Benny were here, he would beat the Earl of Sinclair to a pulp and then he would lock Callie in her chamber for the next month. Then again, the earl was frightfully strong and well-muscled. Perhaps Benny would not defeat him with such ease.
Better that Benny was not here.
Better that he was instead enjoying his honeymoon with Isabella.
When he returned, it would be too late for him to embroil himself in her problems, and that was precisely how she wanted it to be. It was precisely how itmustbe. For she had gotten herself into this disastrous predicament, and she was the one who must pay the forfeit.
With her life.
How horrifying a prospect.
“You will need a dress,” Aunt Fanchette was saying. “I daresay it is too late to commission one. A Worth gown would have been most agreeable. I do know amodistehere in London who hails from Paris. Perhaps she will have something that can do, in a trice.”
Callie blinked. Her mind was still awhirl from everything that had happened. Her entire life had changed forever in the span of one day. Although the Earl of Sinclair had taken his leave at last, the tension had yet to drain from her. Because what loomed before her—marriage to him—seemed akin to a prison sentence. Even if his protestations of innocence were true and she had been wrong about him, she did not even know him. He was a stranger to her. And after she had lost Simon, she had sworn to herself she would never become another man’s wife…
“Lace and satin would be just the thing, do you not think?” her aunt asked.
“I do not care what manner of dress I wear,Tante,” she said grimly.
That much was the truth. Her nuptials to the earl would not be a happy occasion.
“We must send word to Westmorland at once,” Aunt Fanchette continued. “Undoubtedly, he and the duchess will want to be in attendance, even if it means interrupting their honeymoon.”
