Callum: Regency Rockstars

by Sasha Cottman

  “Your concert was excellent this evening. I really do think you have the timing of that piece by Haydn as tight as it will get. Even Kendal was smiling while he played,” she ventured.

  Callum turned and looked at her. “Was he? I didn’t notice,” he said, then went back to staring out the window.

  She had never seen him so unsettled. The confident and brash Callum who had stared Randolph Ward down had all but disappeared. In his place was a man who looked for all the world like he was standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure as to whether he should step back or run and take a giant leap.

  At Follett House, he guided her upstairs and into his bedroom, locking the door behind them. She was ushered out onto the balcony and shown to one of the chairs. Callum took the other one.

  For a time, they both sat, neither saying anything.

  Finally, he met her gaze. “I have no idea where to begin. What I should say and what I should leave unsaid.” His voice was low and gruff with emotion.

  “I’ve always found that the best thing to do is to say what is in your heart. After that, everything else will follow,” she replied.

  He smiled. “I love you, Eliza. I have always loved you.”

  Tears immediately welled up, and she was powerless to stop them. She closed her eyes and dropped her head. The weight of all those nights when she had lain awake wondering, fearing that he no longer loved her, came crashing down on her.

  “I want to tell you how sorry I am for all the pain I have put you through, but I can’t because I know if you stay in love with me, if you bind your future with mine, that I will cause you more heartache. I am doing everything I can to fight my addictions, but this will be an ongoing battle, perhaps even for the rest of my life. That is the simple truth of who I am, Eliza.”

  “I know,” she said. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She let them fall.

  “I can’t offer you an apology that comes with the guarantee of an end to my self- destructive behavior, but I can try and give you some understanding of what the past year has been for me. After that, I can only hope it is enough.”

  She sighed. A sense of understanding was more than he had given her in a very long time. If it was the truth, she would willingly take it. “Yes.”

  “Waterloo wasn’t some heroic adventure for me. It was the beginning of a bloody and never-ending nightmare. The wound I sustained to my back and shoulder was nothing compared to the damage to my soul. I saw things that day that will live with me for the rest of my life. I might well have returned with Napoleon’s flags and his garish coach, but I also brought home dark demons.”

  She had seen enough from Reid to know that he carried painful memories from his military service. Many times, over the past year she had wandered into the main drawing room late at night only to find her brother sitting alone in front of the fire, staring into the flames, his eyes red-rimmed from crying.

  Yet Callum seemed to be have been cursed far worse than the others, unable to shake off the hold that those memories had on him.

  “I take it that is the reason why you drink so heavily. Why you numb yourself with drugs? Of course, I will never be able to fully appreciate what you went through on the battlefield; how can I?”

  Society expected men such as Callum to be stoic about the reality of war and death, to hide their emotions. Battles bred heroes, no one wanted to hear that those same men had been broken in the process.

  “There have been days when I have not been able to function as a human being without either being drunk or out of my skull on drugs. I have seen countless dawns after I have sat up through the night and been at the mercy of a broken mind. They gave me a knighthood, but I would gladly hand it back if it meant not reliving that June day,” he said.

  Eliza waited as Callum slowly shook his head. She sensed there was something else on his mind, something of such importance that it had driven him to come out tonight and find her at the ball. For him to set Randolph Ward straight on the matter of him and Eliza Follett. “But you have had days recently where you have not imbibed. And I have stopped smelling the heady scent of cigars on your person. Something has changed or is at least beginning to change. Do I have the right of it?” she said.

  Callum drew himself up straight in the chair. His shoulders were pulled back. He looked strong, ready to take on anything. Yet his hands grasped the arms of the chair tightly. “My father asked me to give up the cannabis and the opium. It has not been easy, but so far, I have managed well over a week without them. The gin, however, will take longer. I am able to get through some days without drinking to excess, such as today, while on others I am ashamed to say I head to the nearby tavern as soon as I wake,” he replied.

  Eliza sat forward, moving to the edge of her chair. She placed a hand over his, then stilled. She was not normally a patient person, but from the way he held himself, she sensed Callum needed for her to hold her silence and let him speak.

  He glanced at her hand and smiled, accepting her comfort. Then he lifted his gaze to hers. “My father is dying.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Eliza closed her eyes as the wave of shock rolled over her. Callum’s beloved father was dying. After all he had been through over the past twelve months, Callum’s world was once more about to be thrown into turmoil.

  Her mind immediately went back to the night she had gone to find Callum. How pale and tired Sir Thomas had looked. And the distress on Lady Sharp’s face. It all made such heartbreaking sense.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say, Callum. That is the worst possible news. I am so sorry.”

  He nodded. “It is utterly devastating. I cannot find the words myself.”

  “How long does he have?” she asked.

  “Not long. Perhaps a month. The doctors have said that it will all be over before Christmas,” he replied.

  She wanted badly to throw her arms around him and offer her sympathy. Her love. From the look on Callum’s face that was the last thing he needed. He was barely keeping his emotions under control. If she tried to comfort him, he would likely shatter into a thousand pieces.

  “How long have you known?” she asked.

  “A few weeks. Just after the first Noble Lords’ concert. I suspected something was amiss with him. He tried to pass it off as simply being tired—that a tonic would fix things. I, of course, didn’t believe him. I wanted to think it was nothing—Lord knows I did. But you do reach a certain age where you stop taking the words of your parents at face value.”

  Callum gently brushed Eliza’s hand away and got to his feet. He took a deep breath and his head fell back. “I don’t know what is worse. The fact that he is dying or that he is more worried about me than meeting his maker. He isn’t scared of death; he is afraid that I am going to put the Sharp family to ruin once he is gone. Can you believe that?”

  Eliza rose and came to his side. Callum turned and looked over the side of the balcony and to the laneway below. A single lamp barely lit the dark cobblestones of the street.

  “Surely you know enough about the workings of the estate. You meet weekly with your father and go through all the finances and paperwork. He can’t think that you are foolish enough to send the Sharp family into financial trouble.”

  Callum snorted. “I’ve done enough things over the years to give him good cause to believe otherwise. This news has made me start to consider a lot of things in my life and what I can do to change them.”

  “I am sure if you got Reid to go and speak to him, your father could be convinced that you are not that bad. Well, not when you are sober at least,” she replied.

  He flinched. “Reid doesn’t know. Neither do Owen or Kendal. And it has to stay that way. At least until this is all over. Apart from my family and the physicians, you are the only other person I’ve told.”

  “But why? Why wouldn’t you tell your friends?” she replied.

  “Because I trust you more than anybody else. Is that such a surprise?” Callum glanced at he
r and softly laughed. He reached out a hand and slipped it around her waist, pulling her to him. As her head settled against his shoulder, Callum dropped a kiss on the top of her hair and whispered, “If I cannot trust you, Eliza, then who can I trust?”

  She wrapped her arms around his hard body as best she could, breathing in his scent. She had missed these moments between them, longed for them. Just the quiet stillness of the night where there was no one else to disturb them in their peaceful haven. “If you trust me, then can I ask you why you are not telling anyone else about your father? I am not judging it or even questioning the decision; I just need to understand.”

  “My father is a significant investor in a company which owns a mine in the United States of America. The company is called the Royal Jubilee Mines and is listed on the London Stock Exchange. There has been a major find of gold at the mine, but it is currently being kept a tight secret. If the other investors discover that Sir Thomas is dying, they may make a move to take over the company,” he said.

  “And, in doing so, push you and your family out,” she added. Little wonder Callum and the rest of the Sharp family were keeping news of Baron Sharp’s declining health a closely guarded secret. A fortune was at stake.

  “Our family,” he firmly corrected. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box and handed it to her. “Open it.”

  Eliza lifted the lid. Inside was the promise ring. Tears pricked her eyes.

  “Sorry, I had to put it in a smaller box. The crystal one wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

  She managed a laugh in between trying to stifle her sobs. It was getting late and one or more of the others might soon return home and wander out onto the balcony.

  Callum took the ring out of the box and held it up in front of her. Eliza nodded and he slipped the ring onto her finger.

  “My promise to you is restored. But I am not going to ask you to do the same. Not yet anyway,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to think long and hard about what life would be like with me. I will never be fully cured of what ails my mind, of my addictions. I will strive every day to live as best I can, but there will be times when I will fail. Before you make any decision on our future, I want to you consider that truth—to look at me with a critical eye. If you decide that you cannot live that life, I will understand.”

  “Alright. I will do that. I just need you to promise that if I choose to throw my lot in with you, that you won’t make me wait another year. You have used up all your allotment of my patience when it comes to setting wedding dates.”

  Callum pulled her roughly to him and speared his fingers through her hair. He lingered, his lips a slip of a kiss away from hers, and whispered, “No. I won’t make that mistake again. Ella es mia, and don’t you bloody well forget it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Callum dropped onto his bed and let his shoulders slump. Relief coursed through him. He had finally confided the truth about his life to Eliza. There were no more secrets left between them.

  The next few weeks would be crucial. He had managed to remain off the drugs for a time and he was quietly proud of himself for having done so. The risk of him relapsing, however, remained. It always would. Moving on from addiction was not as simple as saying he was done with opium and cannabis and expecting it to stick. It would be a lifelong battle.

  The problem of alcohol also remained. Giving it up was something he wasn’t ready to tackle. Withdrawing from cannabis had been hard enough.

  And sleep. Sleep had always been a battleground since his return from war. Some nights he had avoided it in order to escape his nightmares, other times he craved it so badly he found himself on his knees beside the bed, praying for the blessed release of slumber.

  Today, finally he had felt a sense of clarity in his mind. That he could see a way forward.

  Holding Eliza in his arms had been divine; for the first time, he’d had a sense of real hope for them. He’d treasured the soft warmth of her kisses as she yielded her mouth to him. He wanted her like he had never done before, yearned to make her fully his. To take her to his bed, and by making love to her, show her what she had always meant to him.

  He lay down and stared up at the canopy. The road ahead was going to be hard. Dealing with overcoming his addictions as well as the impending loss of his father would be a trial. A test of his true mettle. He could only pray that he would have Eliza by his side. He could succeed on his own, but he wanted her love and support. To know that when he did win those victories, they would be all the sweeter because he had Eliza in his life.

  In the room next door, Eliza sat on the edge of her bed, not wanting to sleep. She fiddled with the promise ring, twisting it around her finger. Until she and Callum were settled on their future, she still couldn’t wear it outside her bedroom, but it was good to have it back. Very good.

  The decision which now lay ahead of her was how she could best support him in his ongoing battle with alcohol. It was his fight, his responsibility to do all he could to stay sober. She would everything in her power to help Callum, but she also had to maintain a sense of impartiality about it and not become as emotionally involved as her mother had done with her father. Begging and pleading were not the way to go.

  Callum letting her back into his life meant more than any grand gesture at a ball ever could. He had opened his heart to her again, given her hope.

  “You might be strong, Callum, but I know you are in pain.”

  Eliza climbed off the bed. Callum was only a matter of feet away, likely still awake. She wasn’t going to wait any longer.

  She slipped out of her bedroom and onto the balcony. A dim light shone through the window of Kendal’s room at the far end of the house. The rest of the Noble Lords were slowly making their way home. She hastened her steps, keen not to meet any other members of the household who might have an inclination to come out and sample the night air.

  At the door to Callum’s room, she tried the handle, relieved to discover he had not locked it after she had left. Tapping on the glass could rouse the attention of others.

  Pushing the curtain aside, she stepped into the room and locked the door behind her. Her plans did not include them being disturbed.

  Callum sat up on the bed and stared at her in the semidarkness. “What are you doing? I thought you had gone to bed.”

  She came to the side of bed and leaned over him. “Something I should have done long ago.” She placed a finger under his chin and gently lifted. Their gazes met. His piercing blue eyes were almost grey in the light of the room.

  Callum wrapped his fingers around Eliza’s hand and held it. “I thought you were going to take time and consider matters before you made a decision. If you lay with me tonight, you will have as good as made your choice.”

  She smiled. “Do you remember the spring of last year, a few weeks before you headed off to fight for the last time, when you and I slipped out of that party and found a warm place in the stables at the back of the mews?”

  The glint in his eye told her he remembered it only too well. What hot lips and tongues had done to one another. What heady heights they had both reached.

  “Yes,” he murmured.

  “Good. Then you will know why I am here and what I have planned,” she replied.

  Callum closed his eyes and from the slight shake of his head, she sensed he was about to protest. Eliza dropped to her knees before him, her face coming level with the rapidly growing bulge in his trousers.

  She flicked open one button. His hand was halfway to her shoulder, threatening to push her away, but she would not be dissuaded from her work. The second button met the same fate as the first and she slipped a hand inside, taking his cock firmly in hand. Callum let out a low groan of need.

  The placket of his trousers was pulled open, giving her full access to him. A hard, full erection pointed out at her. Eliza smiled. She had missed the touch of him, his scent. Now she wanted his essence.

&
nbsp; “Let me take the pain away, even if it is for only a little time.”

  She cupped his balls as she took the head of his cock into her mouth and set to work with her lips. She licked and sucked the soft pink skin, tasting the salty precum. Callum laid a hand softly on the top of her head. When she drew back on him, he gasped and grabbed a fistful of her dark brown hair.

  “Damn it, Eliza, you are far too good at this,” he said.

  She ran her tongue along the length of him, then settled to tease his balls. He shuddered at her touch.

  “You have trained me well,” she replied.

  He pulled her hair back, forcing her to look up at him. Blue eyes simmering with desire bore into her soul. There was a wild storm brewing between them. She wanted nothing more than to be swept up in its torrent, to cling to him through to the calm of its aftermath.

  “Only for me. Tell me there has been no other man. That the only cock you have ever tasted is mine. Tell me now,” he growled, a fierce primal tone in his voice. It went straight to her core. She throbbed with need.

  “Only you. There has only ever been you. You might have tried to fight me off, Callum Sharp, but I was always yours.” There had never been any doubt in her mind about where she belonged and with whom.

  She took him into her mouth once more, working her lips and tongue over him as Callum held her in place. Breathing in through her nose, with her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, she settled into a comfortable rhythm while keeping control of how deep she took him.

  His groans of appreciation grew louder. “Oh, fuck, Eliza, you had better release me. I am about to explode!”

  In their previous sexual encounters, Callum had been a gentleman and dealt with the final outcome of Eliza’s ministrations, taking himself in hand. But tonight, she was determined to see things through to the end, to keep him under her command until the very last throes of his orgasm.