Callum: Regency Rockstars

by Sasha Cottman

  He raked the fingers of his left hand through his pale hair. If only he could be the man, she had once loved. That boisterous, free-spirited soul. A man who had lived life to the fullest.

  “I am none of that. I’m just a fractured fool who would give anything for a full night’s sleep,” he whispered.

  The battle for Europe might well have been over, but he’d been left fighting a new enemy. One who came to him in his dreams and would never let him rest.

  He had to push Eliza away. If he made good on his pledge, he would be condemning her to a lifetime of heartache. Eliza had to stop waiting for the man who she loved to return.

  That man was never coming back.

  Chapter Six

  The following afternoon Eliza lazed in a comfortable garden chair, enjoying the warm summer sunshine. She looked up from her book as the Noble Lords marched out of the house.

  “It’s too nice a day for us to sit inside, so we have decided to come and entertain you in the garden,” announced Reid.

  Behind him strolled Owen, who was carrying his violin, while just behind him Callum walked. He had a long silver flute tucked under his arm. Bringing up the rear was Kendal. He led a group of servants who were wrangling a small harpsicord down the steps and onto the lawn.

  She frowned. Where had the harpsicord come from? Setting her book aside, Eliza rose and quickly began to arrange chairs.

  “Are you going to sing?” she asked Reid.

  He playfully screwed up his face. “No, I don’t want to get out of sorts with the neighbors.”

  Her gaze then drifted to Callum. He was neatly dressed and cleanshaven. He nodded briefly to her, then took the chair next to Owen. Eliza forced a tight smile to her lips.

  “We are hoping that Callum will be our secret weapon against Marco and his friends. They have two violinists, a pianist, and a singer, but they don’t have any wind instruments,” explained Reid.

  A large rug was laid out on the lush green lawn and the harpsicord carefully set on top of it. The servants, a number of whom Eliza noted had been the unfortunate ones to move Kendal’s piano into the ballroom when he first arrived, cautiously stood back.

  She gave Kendal a look which didn’t require further explanation and resumed her seat. He had better not throw a tantrum about the harpsicord like he had done when his priceless Cristofori piano had been brought into the ballroom. If he did, Eliza was going to make good on her promise and chop his piano to pieces.

  Kendal gave her a cheerful smile and took his seat at the small piano. Her message had been received loud and clear.

  While Owen went about tuning his violin, Callum set his lips to the flute. A soft, melodic tune soon filled the air. Eliza closed her eyes and lay back in her chair. Callum might well be a wild man with his riotous lifestyle, but he was a master when it came to be making beautiful music. Many things about him might have changed, but his musician’s heart had not. His love for the magic of a melody was still pure and intact.

  She chanced a sly look in Kendal’s direction. He was waving his hand gently back and forth in time with the music. It was nice to see him letting one of the other Noble Lords have a moment alone on center stage.

  The tune finally ended, and Callum nodded in Owen’s direction. To Eliza’s surprise and heartfelt delight, he began to play a lively country jig. Kendal accompanied them on the harpsicord.

  Reid rose from his chair and held out his hands to Eliza. He pulled her to her feet, then wrapped his arm around her waist and spun her into a lively dance. The gathered servants clapped along with the music, and Reid signaled for them to join in.

  “Come, Mister Green. We all know you are light of foot,” he said.

  The Follett House butler took a young housemaid by the hand and they joined Reid and Eliza in the center of the lawn. Eliza let out a hoot of delight as Reid lifted her off the ground and held her high.

  “Reid Follett, put me down this instant!” She laughed.

  “Not a chance. Now hold on tight; this next move is going to be a fast one.” He spun her into another turn, moving them both through it with the skill he had honed from many hours in the ballrooms of London society. Only when the jig eventually came to a rousing end did Reid finally let her go.

  She stood smiling, hand on heart while she caught her breath. Reid truly was an excellent dancer.

  Applause filtered through the garden. She turned and saw the household staff gathered around the rear garden steps. Eliza blushed and fanned her face with her fingers.

  Kendal and Owen then slowed the pace of the music, and a light song by Rossini reached her ears. Trust Kendal to pick a piece by one of the hottest composers of the day.

  While Owen played his violin, Eliza watched closely. She had long ago given up the instrument, but the fingers of her left hand still moved in time, shifting over imaginary strings.

  Callum rose from his seat and set down his flute. He walked over to her. “May I have a word with you in private, Lady Eliza?”

  Callum had been in a testing frame of mind for most of the day. After Eliza had left him alone on the balcony in the early hours of the morning, he had fetched a second cigar and gorged on smoking up the strong batch of cannabis. With the drugs coursing through him, he had then gone into the dining room and found a bottle of whisky which he had drunk to chase the weed. It had been nearly dawn by the time he fell into bed, catching only a few fractured hours of sleep.

  The combination of a hangover and coming down from a nightlong high had not put him in any sort of condition to deal with Eliza. He felt an utter mess; and he was certain everyone else could see it. Anyone who cared to look into his eyes would see the bloodshot evidence of his self-destructive behavior.

  So, why can’t she see that? Or does she refuse to see it?

  He held her by the arm and led her away from the musical gathering. Reid shot him a distrustful glare, but he ignored it. Things had been tense between him and his fellow Noble Lord for the past few months, especially when it came to Reid’s sister; today was no different.

  The garden had been designed as a series of floral rooms and they stepped through a high dark green hedge and into the next one. Pink and white hollyhocks rose high against the inside wall of the green border, and Callum smiled at the sight. His father was a keen gardener and had planted many hollyhocks in the garden at Sharp House.

  He took Eliza’s hand in his and leaned in close. “I want to apologize about how I have handled things between us. I am sorry. I should have spoken to you some time ago, but instead I have acted the coward and avoided you. You deserve better.”

  Eliza didn’t say anything for a time. Her gaze was cast down, locked on where their fingers were entwined. Normally she was a woman of many words, something which he liked about her. Callum had never been one for females who practiced at being coy or who spent their time playing games; Eliza had always been an intelligent and articulate lady. She could at times be blunt with her speech, but he had always known where he stood with her.

  But not today.

  “Liz,” he whispered.

  She slowly stirred and lifted her head. Tears glistened in her eyes and his heart sank.

  Shit.

  “Thank you for your apology, Callum. It means a lot to me. But as I said last night, I am prepared to wait for you. I don’t accept that your feelings for me have changed. Our love is stronger than that. I know you are struggling, and I want to help, but you have to let me into your life,” she replied.

  Callum sighed. Under most other circumstances, her being resolute may well have been a blessing. Now it just made things impossible. He wished that they could be friends; her stubborn heart would not allow it. She wanted his love. And love was the one thing he couldn’t give her.

  “I can’t let you into my life, Eliza. I won’t condemn you to that dark hell. As you yourself have said, the war is over, and time has moved on. Unfortunately, we cannot go back and be the people we once were; the past lies behind a locked door,”
he said. His heart felt fit to burst with agony as she lifted his hand to her lips and placed a warm, tender kiss on his fingertips. She tried to capture his gaze, but Callum forced himself to look away.

  This is torture. If only I could be a better man for her. Then we could stand a chance. We would have something worth fighting for . . . but no. I am weak.

  He had nothing to offer her but misery.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  No amount of pleading would do him any good. He was a man cursed to be loved by a woman he no longer deserved. A woman he still desperately wanted as his.

  As the final strains of Kendal’s piano piece died away, Callum slipped his hand from hers and dug into his jacket pocket. The look of despair on her face as he pulled out his hip flask almost brought him undone. What he was doing was cruel, but it was necessary.

  “I need a drink and you need to let me go,” he said.

  He raised the flask to his lips and took a sip. Eliza’s sad gaze followed his every move. She gave him a tremulous smile before silently turning and walking away. Callum raised the drink to his lips and downed another mouthful. The gin tasted as foul and bitter as his words as it slid down his throat.

  He put the lid back on the flask and followed in Eliza’s wake as she returned to the main part of the garden. She didn’t stop. Instead she headed toward the door which led into the house.

  Kendal and Owen struck up a new tune; a heavier piece by Beethoven. The darker tone suited Callum’s mood perfectly. It spoke of desperation and longing for something that was out of reach.

  His gaze fell on Reid as Eliza passed her brother by. His fellow Noble Lord turned from watching his sister take her leave and looked back at Callum. Reid’s face was set hard as he marched over to Callum and met him halfway.

  “Since Kendal and Owen are content to keep playing, perhaps now is a good time for you and me to have a chat,” said Reid.

  Here we go. Another lecture about your sister.

  He motioned toward the vegetable patch at the back of the garden, and Callum fell into step beside him.

  “About Eliza,” started Reid.

  Callum stopped in front of him, narrowly avoiding stepping on a patch of ready-to-pick radishes. He held up his hand. “I was simply apologizing to her for how I have behaved since I arrived here. Nothing more.”

  “So, why did you need to go somewhere private?”

  Callum shrugged. “I have not behaved well toward Eliza. I have upset her. And I didn’t think it right to have our personal affairs aired in front of the servants. I promise I will make sure I am not alone with her again.”

  Reid took a step closer; they were almost nose to nose. “You had better not. In fact, I would ask that while you are a guest in my house you maintain a polite distance from Eliza at all times.”

  “Which is what I have been doing,” Callum bit back.

  “Good. Keep it up. I would consider it a great service to our friendship if you could make the effort to ensure that any sort of affection Eliza may still hold for you is beaten down until it is stone dead.”

  Callum saw red. “You have never been in favor of her and I, have you? Even before the war and all the hell that came after, you were intent on keeping us apart. But you must know that someday she is going to leave you. You don’t own your sister and you can’t command her. Her heart is hers, and she will love who she wants.”

  Reid nodded. “I want nothing more for Eliza than to see her happily settled with a man who treats her well and whom she loves. I don’t give a damn who he is, as long as he is not you.”

  Callum’s fingers flexed. His mind was already mentally taking the hip flask out of his pocket. He wanted another drink—something to dull the edges, to calm the simmering rage which was brewing inside.

  He stared Reid down a moment, then took a step back. The radishes crunched under his boot, but he didn’t care. This was a fight he was never going to win. Raging and tearing at his friend would get him nowhere. “I understand. A little pain now to save her from greater agony at a future point. As always, Reid, you have made your position crystal clear,” replied Callum. He swallowed a lump of his pride as Reid placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I love you as a brother. But I will do everything in my power, both within and outside of the law, to protect Eliza. To spare her the dark fate that lies ahead for any woman who gives her heart to a man such as yourself. I know that story only too well.”

  The dreaded legacy of Reid and Eliza’s parents hung over them. Reid would never allow his beloved sister to marry a man who was almost an exact copy of the same self-destructive creature his father had been.

  “I shall do as you ask. But just remember this is Eliza we are talking about; she is not one to fall into line even if it is in her best interests. She is going to take some convincing,” he replied.

  “Leave me to deal with the inevitable fight from her. You just make certain that you give Eliza every reason to give up on her love, even if it means she ends up hating you,” said Reid.

  Callum pulled away and Reid’s hand slipped from his shoulder. For her sake, he had to find a way to make Eliza stop wanting him. It would crush her heart and cost him his soul, but he would do it.

  And if that wasn’t loving her, then he had no idea what love was.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning, Callum woke on the floor of the ballroom at Follett House. He sat and squinted at the bright sunlight which streamed in through the window. His head pounded with the unpleasant but familiar sensation of a hangover.

  Vague memories of large tankards of ale and the singing of army songs flittered through his hazy mind. He had staggered in the front door in the early hours of the morning, not bothering to even entertain the prospect of climbing the stairs up to his room. Instead he had settled on his usual sleeping haunt of the Noble Lords’ rehearsal space.

  “That does not feel good,” he muttered, clutching at his belly.

  Ale never agreed with him. He was in for a long day of stomach cramps. The best he could hope for was a little self-sympathy, because no one else would offer him any.

  You are your own worst enemy, Sharp.

  After the uncomfortable conversations he had endured with both Eliza and Reid in the garden the previous day, he had remained to complete the rehearsal session, then headed for the nearest tavern. He hadn’t wanted to socialize with people of his own class; instead, he had found some new drinking mates and gotten toad-faced with them.

  The downstairs clock chimed the hour of ten and he sat and waited for the loud bongs of each hour to end. The noise echoed in the foyer as well as in his head. He certainly didn’t feel like someone who had been unconscious for seven hours.

  “Why can’t it be eight o’clock,” he grumbled.

  With a tired effort, he scraped himself off the highly polished ballroom floor and headed up to his room. Every step he took on the staircase was a struggle. After summoning his valet, who managed his usual flurry of miracles, Callum was dressed and looking presentable in less than an hour. At eleven o’clock on the dot, he strode in the front door of his family home in Seymour Street.

  Sir Thomas Sharp was waiting for him in the upstairs drawing room. Father and son met several times a week in this room to catch up with one another, to talk about life and the world in general. The casual overstuffed low sofas of the drawing room were a nice change from the baron’s study where they met when there was business to discuss.

  His father rose from his seat as Callum stepped into the room. “Good morning, Sir Callum.”

  Callum raised a weary eyebrow. He suspected at times that his father was more excited about his knighthood than he himself was. Sir Thomas wrapped his arms as far around his son’s body as he could and hugged him.

  “My, you are a big lad. Nice to see that Lord Follett is feeding you well,” he said.

  Callum hugged his father back. He would much rather be asleep somewhere, but he would never dare miss these
casual gatherings. He treasured the warmth of Sir Thomas’s embrace.

  As he pulled away, he met his father’s gaze. Tired eyes stared back at him. Sir Thomas had a grey, washed-out look about his face. He frowned at his father. “Are you ill? You look drained.”

  Sir Thomas waved his concerns away. “It is nothing. Just feeling a little poorly at the moment and not sleeping well. I am seeing my physician this afternoon. I expect he will prescribe me a tonic and then all will be tip-top again.”

  His father was a relatively young man, aged only in his late forties, and as strong and fit as an ox. Seeing him even slightly unwell gave Callum pause.

  “Speaking of being exhausted, you don’t look like someone who has seen much sleep lately. Don’t tell me you are still out to all hours of the night,” said Sir Thomas.

  Callum winced. He wasn’t comfortable with his father knowing the sordid details of his wild lifestyle. His parents were obviously aware that he drank to excess; it wasn’t something he could easily hide. But as far as he was aware, they were still in the dark about his drug use. “I wish it was from hard partying, but no, it’s because the Noble Lords have been rehearsing late. Kendal is keen for us to make a great impression at our debut performance. He is a perfectionist when it comes to his music,” he lied.

  A smile lit his father’s face. He ushered Callum over to the pair of brown-and-gold-striped sofas and resumed his seat. “Tell me how things are going with your musical enterprise. Your mother informs me that she has heard excited whispers about the Noble Lords. Apparently, you are the topic of conversation in all the good homes.”

  “Things are going well. We have a strong set of music and some songs lined up,” replied Callum.

  “Songs? Who is singing?”

  Callum shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Reid’s decision to take on the role of vocalist for the group had been unexpected, but he had Callum’s support. “Viscount Follett. Reid is a decent enough baritone. He will deliver a few popular tunes in between our musical numbers.”