Callum: Regency Rockstars

by Sasha Cottman

  “And what if I have settled my heart on someone else?” she ventured.

  “If you are going to tell me that you are still determined to marry Callum, I don’t want to hear it. I have spoken to him and he has given me his solemn promise that he is not going to offer for your hand.”

  “But . . .”

  “But nothing. I will not change my mind about the subject. If anything, the past few weeks have only reinforced my already firmly set opinion. He is no good for you.”

  The man was frustration incarnate—unwilling to move an inch.

  “You do realize that you could not stop me. If I decided to go ahead and marry Callum, there is nothing you could do about it,” she replied.

  “I hope it won’t ever come to that. Please, Eliza, I beg of you—find someone else.”

  She turned and left the room. Her husband was right; Reid would never give their marriage his blessing. But there was no going back.

  Her decision to marry Callum would eventually cost Eliza her brother’s love.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Callum managed to hold things somewhat together over the next couple of days. He did his best to get through the day without a drink or cigars, with his reward being Eliza in his arms at night. That moment when she crept into his room through the balcony door, a soft inviting smile on her face, made it all worthwhile.

  But his respite of calm was short-lived.

  With his father’s health failing fast, he began to slide back into old habits. He was drunk at Reid and Lavinia’s wedding, and well in his cups at several rehearsal sessions. Worse still, while inebriated he had been rude to Lavinia during afternoon rehearsals at the Sans Pareil theatre and Reid had torn into him.

  There was friction in the Noble Lords, and he was barely coping.

  On the morning of the grand charity concert, Callum was close to breaking point.

  He had lain awake for many hours, staring up at the canopy of his bed. Several times he had rolled over onto his side and watched Eliza as she peacefully slept, then went back to staring into the darkness.

  At least I have that part of my life sorted. Thank God.

  As the first light of the morning peeked through the curtains, he rose and got dressed. Not wishing to disturb Eliza, he went and sat out on the balcony.

  Eliza joined him a short while later. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  He shook his head. “No. Too many things going on in my brain.”

  She went to sit in the chair next to him, but Callum pulled her onto his lap. She slipped her arms around him, craving his touch.

  “I don’t know how I will get through today, let alone the concert tonight.”

  She kissed him softly on the lips. “You will do as you have done every day since we agreed to be together. You will give it your best. I’m not saying today will be easy, or that you won’t drink, but I know you will try. We are in this as partners.”

  She had planned a big congratulatory supper after the show this evening but Callum’s demeanor was not that of a man who wanted to celebrate. He looked more like someone who knew his life was on the verge of falling apart.

  “I am sorry, but I am not coming to the supper tonight. I want to go and see my father,” he said.

  She nodded, doing her best to hide her disappointment. The time that Callum had left with Sir Thomas was precious. “I understand. You will need to tell the others that you are going off to get drunk somewhere, otherwise they might start asking questions.”

  “Yes. Owen asked yesterday if my parents were coming to the concert. So, if I disappear at the end of the show tonight, I will at least be able to avoid having to deal with any more of his questions,” he replied.

  She fell silent for a moment; this was an incredibly difficult period for Callum. He was having to keep things from his fellow Noble Lords. Men whom he had trusted with his life during battle. His father was dying. And she and he had gone and secretly got married. They were living on borrowed time. She gave him a hesitant smile.

  He brushed a kiss on her lips. “Tell me your troubles. You get to hear mine enough.”

  She shrugged. “I just feel like a giant hammer is about to strike. That if I suddenly looked up, I would see the shadow of it looming over us.”

  Callum kissed her once more. “After my father is gone and Reid discovers the truth of us, our lives will never be the same. But we have to hold fast to the one thing I know to be true. As long as you and I stick together, we will survive the aftermath, however hard the hammer falls.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I am still disappointed to have missed your grand concert,” said Sir Thomas.

  Callum held his father’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Well, you were spared having to listen to the Prince Regent telling everyone how it was all his idea and that he had commanded us to play the concert at the Sans Pareil. Oh, and of course the upcoming royal command tour that he suddenly decided he wanted us to arrange.”

  It was ten days after the successful charity concert and Sir Thomas was sitting in bed at Sharp House propped up by a good number of pillows and cushions. He had lost the ability to walk a few days earlier.

  “Did I tell you that Reid has signed Marco Calvino up for the royal tour?”

  Sir Thomas frowned. “The Italian tenor—the one you were all competing against—how did that happen?”

  “A few days after the concert, Marco came to see Reid and he apologized for some things he had said about Lavinia. They agreed to bury the hatchet. He is even living at Follett House now, helping with the auditions for the tour,” replied Callum.

  While peace had been made between Marco and some of the Noble Lords, Callum was not willing to accept his friendship. He didn’t trust Marco.

  “Speaking of the tour. Are you still going to do the London royal command shows and then the ones in Manchester and Liverpool?”

  He caught the underlying question in his father’s words. Was he going to be able to do the shows if Sir Thomas died in the middle of the tour?

  “I don’t know. The four London concerts are likely achievable, but I’m not sure about the other two.”

  Sir Thomas chuckled. “Well then, I had better hurry up and die.”

  Callum screwed his eyes shut. “Don’t say that, not even in jest. I have no idea how I will go on once you are gone.”

  “You will survive and in time, you will succeed. Now that you have Eliza by your side, I feel a sense of hope for you. She is a strong woman; lean on her when you need support.”

  Eliza was now his wife. He should feel that he could rely on her to get him through the days and weeks ahead. But he was also very much aware that she was also in a vulnerable position. No one else knew that she was married. She was living a lie right under Reid’s nose.

  While Eliza might well be worried about hammers being ready to fall, Callum was more concerned with the one straw that might break the camel’s back. He feared his wife was taking on too much of the mental load of their marriage.

  And where were all the wonderful things that came with being a new bride? She should have had a grand wedding and a celebratory ball. There should have been wedding gifts piled up in the foyer of Sharp House and the happy smile of a young wife should be on her face. She most certainly should not have to be taking up the burden from a husband who couldn’t get his life sorted.

  He didn’t deserve her. But Sir Thomas was right; he damn well needed her.

  A worried-looking Eliza met Callum as soon as he stepped in the front door of Follett House. He had told her he was going to see his father this morning, but the visit had gone longer than expected. He should have been home several hours ago.

  “I haven’t been drinking,” he said.

  Her face did not change, so concern for his being drunk was clearly not the problem. “You are late home and have missed rehearsals again. Marco played in your place.”

  Fucking Marco. That’s all I need.

  “What do you mean Mar
co played for me?” he asked.

  “He is quite proficient with the piccolo. In a number of the songs and melodies, the piccolo can take the place of the flute. Kendal seems quite pleased with his playing,” she replied.

  Callum speared his fingers through his hair. He had enough to contend with without the worry of Marco Calvino playing another of his underhanded tricks.

  She reached out and took a hold of his hand. “How was your father?”

  “Not good. He is, of course, keeping up a brave face, but I don’t think he has long. If you get time in the next day, you might want to go and sit with him. I am sure he would love to see you. He holds you in the highest regard.”

  “I will. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t mean to grumble about Marco when you have other more important things on your mind. I just worry that he is making fast friends with everyone else and is undermining your position. I am not suggesting he is doing it deliberately, but you still might want to make an appearance in the ballroom to remind them that you are a member of the group,” she replied.

  Callum took a deep breath and turned toward the door which led into the ballroom. “It doesn’t matter what Marco is doing. I shouldn’t have to remind my friends that I am a member of the Noble Lords.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Callum saw red the moment he set eyes on the gathering in the ballroom. Kendal was in his usual place at the piano. Reid was standing to one side, practicing scales to further tune his voice, while Owen was seated nearby, frowning over his new violin. Beside him sat a smiling Marco.

  In. My. Bloody. Chair.

  He marched across the room to Marco, barely holding his temper under control. When he got to where the singer sat, he towered over him. “Get the fuck out of my chair!” he bellowed.

  The smile instantly disappeared from Marco’s face and he rose to his feet. “My apologies, Sir Callum. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Reid crossed the floor and came to Callum’s side. Fury was written all over his face. “Sit down, Marco. Callum doesn’t own that chair. I do. And I will decide who gets to sit in it and who does not. Since our flute player does not seem to think that Noble Lords’ rehearsals are important, he can damn well stand.”

  Callum met Reid’s gaze and held it. “I have other priorities in my life aside from the Noble Lords. Unlike yourself, I am a skilled musician with many years of experience. I can pick up a tune quickly. I might not be a master at the same level as Kendal, but I can hold my own.”

  Marco didn’t resume his seat; instead, he moved quickly out of the way. Callum shot him another filthy look.

  Reid stepped forward and got right in his face. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? You are the only one who suffered after Waterloo. You are the only one who needs to drown his sorrows in booze and drugs. And you are the only one who doesn’t need to rehearse. Keep this up and you might find yourself being the only one not playing at a Noble Lords concert.”

  Callum could see the writing on the wall; this had been coming for some time. He marched over to Kendal, who got to his feet.

  “How good is Marco with the piccolo?” Callum asked.

  A look of realization appeared on Kendal’s face. “No. You can’t leave the group. We need you.”

  Callum fixed him with a hard stare. “I asked, how good is Marco?”

  Kendal looked to the other Noble Lords for support, then sighed. “He is very good. I don’t think there is a thing musically that Marco does which is not perfection. And coming from me, you know that says a lot.”

  Callum marched back over to where Owen, Reid, and Marco stood. Kendal trailed behind.

  “We had a vote for the charity concert. I think it’s time we had a vote as to who is going to play in the Noble Lords. And since Marco has been invited to play as our special guest and is coming on the royal tour, I suggest we give him a vote.”

  Owen closed his eyes, while Kendal stood slowly shaking his head. Marco looked decidedly uncomfortable. The only person who seemed like they could be the slightest bit happy about the notion was Reid. Callum couldn’t blame him.

  “So, what exactly are you asking for?” said Owen.

  “I want a vote of confidence. Actually—no. Sod it. I want a vote as to whether I remain a member of this group. I either have your full support or I leave. Of course, I shall abstain from voting,” replied Callum.

  “All those in favor of Callum remaining in the group, put up your hand,” said Reid without further ado.

  Kendal raised his hand.

  “I want to vote for you, Callum, but I can’t. Not at the moment,” said Owen.

  Marco put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I will not vote. I am only a guest. This is a matter for friends, and I will not come between any of you.”

  Callum was surprised at his words. He didn’t like Marco, but he spoke the truth.

  “Thank you, Marco. You at least understand what this vote is really about. It’s not about the Noble Lords; it’s about loyalty,” said Callum.

  When Reid didn’t make a move to lift his hand, Callum slowly nodded.

  “Thank you for your brutal honesty. I now know where I stand. I shall have my things packed and out of Follett House within the hour. Good day to you all.”

  Eliza was grateful for the loyalty of the servants; Reid’s new wife, Lavinia, might now be the lady of the house, but most of the staff still deferred decisions to her. Within minutes of Callum asking Mister Green to have someone help with his bags, he had tracked her down and informed her of Callum’s imminent departure. She’d raced upstairs to Callum’s room, closing the door behind her.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I’m leaving. They don’t want to support me. Obviously, Marco makes a better fit for the Noble Lords than I do, so I am out of the group.”

  “What?”

  He pulled the top drawer fully out of the tallboy and tipped its contents onto the bed, then went back and did the same with the next one.

  “I called a vote. Gave them all an opportunity to show their support, but only Kendal voted for me to stay.” Callum stopped and looked at her. “I even offered that weasel Marco a vote, though, in his defense, he declined to use it.”

  “And you are leaving? You didn’t stay and fight for your place?”

  He marched back to the tallboy and grabbed the next drawer. A jumbled pile of clothes and personal items was building on his bed. “No. I never thought they would question my place. It’s called being loyal to your friends.”

  Reid was going to be getting a piece of her mind as soon as she could find him, followed by Owen. Eliza started for the door.

  Callum raced after her, taking her by the arm. “Leave it. This is not your battle.”

  She glanced at his hand. “I am your wife. Your battles are my battles.”

  “Please don’t. Enough damage has already been done today. You will only add fuel to the fire if you go tearing strips off your brother and the others. I just need to get the hell out of here.”

  Eliza sighed. Callum was right; though she still wanted to go and punch her brother in the face. Reid could have done more to stop this madness.

  “Alright, but if you are leaving, then so am I. My place is at your side and in your bed.”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. Callum may well have been furious, but the heartbreaking disappointment at having been kicked out of the group was written all over his face.

  “Go and pack your things. If today is going to be one of upheaval, then we may as well throw our marriage into the mix. To be honest, I couldn’t bear to spend tonight apart from you.”

  Eliza had known this day would eventually come, though she would have preferred to have had a little more notice. She steeled herself for the almighty row with Reid that would soon follow. “I shall put a few things in my travel trunk and meet you downstairs shortly.”

  He brushed a kiss on her lips. “I love you, Eliza. I hope that this day does not cost you too dearly.”
/>
  “I love you too.”

  Callum was her husband, and love had no price.

  Eliza found Mister Green and had one of her travel trunks brought up to her room. The Follett House butler stood impassively watching as the trunk was placed on the floor of Eliza’s bedroom. He met her gaze several times but said nothing.

  As soon as the footmen had left, a deep frown appeared on his face. “I know it’s not my place, but I have to ask: Lady Eliza, are you certain that you are doing the right thing? There may be no going back after this.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for your counsel. I have always trusted you to have my best interests at heart. My mind is made up and I am leaving with Sir Callum. I will take this trunk with me today, but could you please arrange to have the rest of my things packed and sent on to Sharp House?”

  “Very good,” replied Mister Green. He bowed and left the room.

  Alone with her trunk, Eliza started pulling gowns from the wardrobe. She was resolved in her decision to leave, but she was still fearful over what she was doing. While her marriage to Callum had remained a secret, she had still been able to live her old life; in a matter of minutes, that would all change. She was about to quit her childhood home and take a giant leap into an uncertain future.

  Dear lord, give me the strength to get through today.

  There was also the hurt and disappointment she was going to cause her brother. This would crush Reid, her lifelong champion. She had betrayed his trust. Lied to him, and all his earnest pleas for her to give up Callum had been for naught. She could only pray that in time he might find it in his heart to forgive her.

  Reid stood in the foyer when Eliza came down a short while later. Callum’s trunks and bags had already been loaded into his carriage, and he had gone outside into the rear mews to farewell some of the servants.