“Bloody hell,” grumbled Benny, “none of this makes sense. Not one whit. The least you can do is allow my duchess and I a moment alone with Callie, Sinclair. I would like to speak with her in private.”
Callie expected her husband to object, but Sin inclined his head. “As you wish. Join us for dinner tonight as well, if you like. There will be no harm in two more place settings.”
Benny’s mouth was set in a harsh, unforgiving line. “Thank you for the invitation, Sinclair. However, only having just returned from our travels, we are tired. Nor would we wish to overstay our welcome.”
“The choice is yours, Westmorland.” Sin shrugged indolently, as if he did not have a care in the world. “I will leave the three of you to your familial tête-à-tête.”
With a perfunctory bow, he turned and sauntered from the study.
The moment the door closed at his back, Benny descended upon her.
“What the devil were you thinking, marrying a man like the Earl of Sinclair?” her brother asked, his voice vibrating with his fury.
“My love.” Isabella once more laid a staying hand on Benny’s arm. “You must not be so angry with Callie. She has done nothing wrong.”
“My wonderful wife is your champion, of course, because she has the patience of a saint,” Benny said, still frowning ferociously at Callie.
“Of course she does,” Callie could not resist teasing him. “She is married to you, after all, dearest brother.”
“And now you are married as well.” Benny pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he were attempting to stave off a dreadful case of the megrims. “Forgive me, Callie. I do not mean to shout, but surely you can appreciate my shock at returning after being gone a mere month to find you married. And not just to anyone, but to the Earl of Sinclair. My God, do you have any idea what sort of reputation the man has?”
Grim uncertainty stole over her, making her stomach churn. “Of course I know about his reputation. I helped to create it, if you will recall from my earlier admission.”
“I knew I should have been firmer with you.” Benny raked a hand through his golden hair. “You have been through so much, losing Lord Simon, then Alfred. I never should have allowed you to go to Paris with Aunt Fanchette. And I never should have left before she had arrived. By God, I hold her partially responsible for this farce.”
Callie bristled at her brother’s assertion that he ought to have been firmer with her. “Benny, I am my own woman. If you had been firmer with me, I would have thrown more surprise balls.”
Her joke was weak, a reference to his frustration with the many entertainments she had planned without his knowledge in the last year.
Benny did not find humor in it, but her sister-in-law smiled.
“I admire your daring, Callie. I always have.” Isabella’s smile turned sad. “Are you truly certain you are happy, dearest?”
“Despite the unconventional beginning to our marriage, yes,” she answered. Though the doubt and questions remained, swirling through her, infecting her thoughts. Dogging her with unfair persistence.
“You have only been married for a month,” scoffed Benny. “You scarcely even know him. He is a member of a depraved club that is renowned for its wickedness. He is the last sort of man I would ever wish to see married to my beloved sister.”
The reminder of his club hit Callie like a pail of ice water.
She had known, of course. She had mined all the scandals and rumors surrounding her husband to writeConfessions of a Sinful Earl. But it was difficult indeed to reconcile what she had known about him with the man she had come to know.
“I know about the club,” she said.
“He has dared to take you there?” Benny asked, outraged anew.
“Of course not,” she hastened to say. “He has not spoken of it to me.”
The moment the confession left her, doubt blossomed. So, too, fear. Sin had never once mentioned the club. And he had been gone for so long the day after their nuptials. He had claimed to be visiting his friend. What if he had been lying?
“I wonder what else your new husband is keeping from you,” Benny said grimly, giving voice to her fears.
“Nothing, we hope,” Isabella said, swatting her new husband’s arm. “You promised on the carriage ride here that you would remain calm. That you would not berate her or attempt to ruin her spirits.”
Benny frowned at his duchess. “I wanted her to have a love match, as we have. Callie is worth far more than some arrogant, penniless earl who has the ballocks to abduct her, force her into marrying him—”
“I chose to marry him,” Callie interrupted.
“Because he threatened to reveal you as the true author of those scandalous memoirs all of London is agog over,” her brother countered. “By his own admission! My God, Calliope, I thought you were more intelligent than this. I never thought I would see the day that you would fall prey to a heartless rakehell out to destroy you.”
