Until Benedick found a wife. And she was relegated to the country. Alone.
Callie swallowed back the sting of tears, refusing to allow herself to feel self-pity in the face of Mariana’s happiness. She moved to close the door to the study softly, to leave the lovers in peace.
Before she could, however, Mariana spoke, breathlessly. “No, Riv. We cannot. My mother would horsewhip us both if we ruined her chance for a wedding.”
Rivington groaned softly. “She has two other children.”
“Yes, but…” There was a pause, and Callie did not have to see her sister to read her thoughts. What are the odds that either of them will marry anytime soon?
“Benedick will marry,” Rivington said, humor in his tone. “He’s simply waiting until the last possible moment to do so.”
“It is not Benedick about whom I worry.”
“Mari, we’ve discussed this. She is welcome at Fox Haven.”
Callie’s mouth dropped open in outrage at the mention of Rivington’s country seat. She? Could they mean her? They had discussed her fate? As though she were an orphaned child in need of care?
As though she were an unmarried female with no prospects.
Which, of course, she was.
Her mouth closed.
“She will make a wonderful aunt,” Rivington added.
Excellent. He’s already sloughing off the heirs to the dukedom on the spinster aunt.
“She would have made a wonderful mother,” Mariana said, and her emphatic words brought a watery smile to Callie’s face. She tried to ignore her sister’s use of the past tense as Mari added, “I only wish she could have had what we have. She so deserves it.”
Rivington sighed. “She does. But I am afraid that only Callie can seize such a life for herself. If she remains so…” He paused, searching for the word, and Callie strained to hear—the angle of her body so unnatural that she risked toppling over entirely. “Passive…she shall never have those things.”
Passive?
Callie imagined Mariana nodding her agreement. “Callie needs an adventure. Of course, she shall never seek one out.”
There was a long pause as their words—so lacking in malice and still so painful—echoed around Callie, suffocating her with the heavy weight of their meaning. And all at once, she could not seem to catch her breath or stop the tears from welling.
“Perhaps you would like an adventure for yourself, my beauty.” Rivington’s sensual tone was restored, and Mariana’s responding giggle proved too much to bear. Callie closed the door quietly, blocking out the sound.
If only she could block out the memory of their words.
Passive. What a horrible word. What a terrible sentiment. Passive and plain and unadventurous and destined for a boring, staid, utterly uninteresting life. She choked back tears, leaning her forehead against the cool mahogany door and considering the very real possibility that she was about to cast up her accounts.
Taking great, heaving breaths, she attempted to calm herself, the powerful combination of sherry and emotion threatening to bring her low.
She did not want to be that woman—the one of whom they spoke. She had never planned to be that woman. Somehow, it had happened, however…somehow, she had lost her way and, without realizing it, she had she chosen this staid, boring life instead of a different, more adventurous one.
And now her younger sister was mere feet away, on the brink of self-induced ruin, and Callie had never even been kissed.
It was enough to drive a spinster to drink.
Of course, she’d done enough of that tonight.
It was enough to drive a spinster to action.
Reaching into her bodice, she produced the folded piece of paper she had placed there only minutes earlier. Fingering the rounded edges of the square, she considered her next move.
She could go to bed, drown herself in tears and sherry, and spend the rest of her life not only regretting her inaction but—worse—knowing those around her believed her passive.
Or, she could change.
She could complete the list.
Now. Tonight.
She smoothed back an errant lock of hair; noted her missing lace cap.
Tonight. She would begin with an item that was a challenge. An item that would set her squarely on this new, bold, un-Callie-like course.
Taking another deep breath, she pulled open the door to the study and stepped into the darkened foyer of Allendale House, no longer caring if she stumbled upon Mariana and Rivington. In fact, she barely registered that they were gone.
She hadn’t time for them, anyway, she thought as she hurried up the wide marble staircase to her bedchamber. She had to change her gown.