Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake Read online

  It was, of course, the man.

  “I was hoping we could talk of Juliana.”

  Callie swallowed her disappointment. Despite her visiting with Juliana three times that week, she had not seen Ralston during her visits—a fact that was likely for the best, considering she turned into something of a cabbagehead when he was nearby.

  Unaware of her thoughts, he pressed on. “I wonder when you think my sister will be ready to take to the ballrooms of London?”

  “I would think no longer than another week. Juliana is a wonderful pupil, my lord. Very eager to please both you and your brother.”

  He nodded, satisfied with her answer. “I should like for you to take her shopping. She will need new gowns.”

  Callie’s surprise was obvious. “I’m not certain I’m the appropriate companion for dress shopping, my lord.”

  “You seem quite appropriate to me.”

  She tried another tack. “You should have someone who is at the height of fashion accompany her.”

  “I want you.” The words were frank and imperious.

  Callie knew she would not win. After a pause, she nodded her agreement. “I shall have to have a look at her current wardrobe, to assess her needs.”

  “No. She needs everything. I want her outfitted in entirety. The best and most current of fashions.” His tone did not encourage discussion. “I will not have her out of place.”

  “With her only here for two months—”

  “You cannot honestly believe that I would allow her return to Italy.”

  “I—” Callie noted the firm resolve in his tone. “No, I suppose not. But, my lord,” she said delicately, uncertain of how to point out the expense of such an extravagant request.

  “Money is of no import. She is to have the best.”

  “Very well.” She acquiesced quietly, deciding that she’d much rather dance than argue the point.

  He allowed her a few moments of silent movement before saying, “I would also like to discuss the necessary requirements to secure entrance to Almack’s for her.”

  Callie’s eyes widened at his words. She replied, choosing her response carefully. “Almack’s may not be the best place to enter Juliana into society, my lord.”

  “Whyever not? Acceptance there makes for a much easier entrée into the rest of the ton, does it not?”

  “Certainly,” Callie agreed. “However, the Lady Patronesses do not give vouchers freely. There are considerable hoops through which one must jump.”

  Ralston’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you do not believe that Juliana will receive a voucher?”

  Callie paused, thinking before she said, “I believe the ladies of Almack’s will find your sister impeccably mannered—”

  “Ah, but impeccable manners are not enough, are they, Lady Calpurnia?”

  She met his eyes directly. “No, my lord.”

  “Is it me? Or my mother?”

  “This is really not the place to discuss—”

  “Nonsense. This is society. Aren’t all matters of import discussed in ballrooms?” His tone was laced with heavy sarcasm. If she were not so keenly aware of his frustration with the situation, she would have been offended by his flippancy.

  He looked away from her, over her head, his eyes unseeing. She paused, judging his response before speaking carefully. “If she were titled…or if she weren’t living at Ralston House…” She changed tack. “It might be easier to garner acceptance for Juliana if we avoid Almack’s altogether.”

  He fell silent, but she could sense the change in him. The arms that held her were stiff with corded tension. After several moments, he met her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Neither do I.” And she didn’t.

  He paused, as if he could read her thoughts. “Will this work?”

  “I shall do my best.” The truth.

  The corner of his mouth raised quickly—if she hadn’t been so focused on him, she might have missed it. “So certain of yourself.”

  “One does not spend one’s life on the edge of ballrooms and not learn exactly what it takes to be belle of the ball, my lord.”

  “If anyone can help Juliana navigate these shark-infested waters, I think it quite possibly could be you, Lady Calpurnia.” The words, laced with respect, caused a warmth to spread through Callie, which she tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore.

  As the waltz came to an end and her skirts swirled back into place, she risked asking, “May I suggest you escort me to my mother?”

  He immediately recognized the logic behind her words. “You think a single conversation with your mother will convince them that I am reformed?”

  “It cannot hurt.” She smiled up at him as they promenaded around the edge of the ballroom. “You forget one of the most important tenets of London society.”

  “Which is?”

  “Wealthy, unmarried marquesses are always welcome back into the light.”

  He paused, letting one finger stroke slowly across her knuckles as he spoke softly in her ear. “And if I am not sure I want to exit the darkness?”

  A shiver pulsed down her spine at the words, more breath than sound. She cleared her throat delicately. “I am afraid it is too late.”

  “Lord Ralston!” Her mother’s voice came, high-pitched and excited, as they approached her and Mariana, who appeared to have been watching the entire waltz, waiting for this particular moment. “How fortunate we are to have you join us this evening.”

  Ralston offered a low bow. “It is I who was fortunate to have received an invitation, my lady. Lady Mariana, you are radiant. May I offer my best wishes on your coming marriage?”

  Mariana smiled warmly at Ralston’s flattery, offering him a hand. “Thank you, my lord. And, may I say that I am quite eager to meet your sister? Callie has said wonderful things about her.”

  “Lady Calpurnia has been a good friend to Juliana in the week since her arrival.” He looked to Callie, and added, “I am of the opinion that there is no one better to ensure my sister’s success.”

  “You are absolutely correct, of course, my lord,” said Lady Allendale. “Callie’s reputation is impeccable. And, considering her age and situation, hers is the ideal tutelage for Miss Juliana.”

  Callie winced inwardly at her mother’s words, which—whether intentionally or not—drew attention to her status as untouchable spinster. The real meaning of Lady Allendale’s statement couldn’t have been more obvious if she had announced that Callie had taken vows as a nun.

  Lady Allendale plunged onward. “May I ask, my lord, how you and Callie came to such an agreement regarding your sister’s introduction into society?”

  Callie’s gaze flew to Ralston, her heart in her throat. How was he going to avoid the truth? He replied calmly, “I confess, Lady Allendale, the agreement was entirely my idea. I was extraordinarily lucky that Lady Calpurnia happened to be in the right place at the right time, as they say. I do not know how I will repay her for such a generous offer.” Callie’s eyes widened at his reply; did she detect a teasing tone in his words? She turned her attention back to her mother, who appeared entirely pacified with the marquess’s answer, as though it were perfectly ordinary for rakes to request the company of her unmarried daughter for purposes not altogether clear.

  She had to end this embarrassment. Immediately. Before her mother did something truly mortifying. As if it weren’t enough that she was dressed in a shimmering aubergine silk adorned with peacock feathers. Many peacock feathers.

  “Mother, Lord Ralston has agreed to escort me to the refreshment room,” she said, avoiding Ralston’s gaze as she attempted to lie as prettily as he seemed to do. “May we fetch something for you?”

  “Oh, no, thank you.” The dowager countess waved her fan in the air dismissively before placing a hand on Ralston’s arm and meeting his gaze directly. “Lord Ralston, I look forward to meeting this sister of yours very soon. Perhaps she will come to luncheon?” It was not a question.

  Ralston
tipped his head graciously, accepting the countess’s offer of support, saying, “I am certain Juliana would enjoy that, Lady Allendale.”

  Callie’s mother nodded firmly. “Excellent.”

  With that, Lady Allendale was off, poor Mariana in tow, to greet more guests. Ralston offered Callie an arm.

  “I should very much like to escort you to the refreshment room, Lady Calpurnia,” he said wryly.

  She took the arm. “I apologize for the untruth.”

  “No need.” They walked in silence for several moments before he added, “Thank you.” He recognized how important the interaction with her family and the invitation from her mother would be in securing Juliana’s acceptance into society.

  She did not immediately respond, her thoughts instead focused on the evening’s surprising turn of events. Keenly aware of the heat of Ralston’s arm under her hand, of the eyes of London’s best and brightest following their path around the ballroom, Callie couldn’t stop herself from wondering just how different this particular evening could become.

  “Do not thank me too quickly, my lord,” Callie began tentatively. “After all, as you so tactfully stated, I have not yet made my request for payment.”

  Ralston glanced down at her. “So I’ve noticed. I don’t suppose you’ll out with it now, so we can get it over with?”

  “I’m afraid not. I do have a rather strange question, however, if you wouldn’t mind humoring me.”

  “Not at all. I would be happy to oblige.”

  She swallowed, shoring up her courage, and attempting to sound as casual as possible, asked, “Are you able to recommend a good tavern in town?”

  As questions went, it was neither the most tactful nor the most delicate, but Callie was too eager for his response to attempt anything other than a direct approach.

  Ralston was to be credited for not betraying the surprise he must have felt at the query. In fact, with the exception of a quick glance in her direction, he continued navigating the couples blocking their path deftly, without pause.

  “I beg your pardon? A tavern?”

  “Yes. A public house.” She nodded, offering him a smile, hoping he wouldn’t press her.

  “What for?”

  She really should have expected his curiosity. Callie grasped for an explanation. “You see…my lord,” she paused, thinking. “My brother…Benedick?” She waited for Ralston’s nod of recognition before continuing. “Well…Benedick is seeking a new haunt…and I thought you might have an answer to his conundrum.”

  “I’m sure I could recommend somewhere. I shall discuss it with him.”

  “No!”

  One eyebrow rose at her vehement response. “No?”

  She cleared her throat quickly. “No, my lord.” She paused, seeking inspiration. “You see…my brother…he would not appreciate my discussing taverns with you.”

  “As well he shouldn’t.”

  “Quite.” She attempted to appear properly chagrined. “So, you see, it might be better for you to name an appropriate location…for a gentleman, of course…and I will make the recommendation quietly. When the appropriate time presents itself.”

  She had been so engrossed in weaving her tale that Callie hadn’t noticed that they had stopped their passage. Ralston had guided her into one of the alcoves on the far edge of the ballroom, out of the way of the throngs of guests.

  Turning to face her, he said, “You are a terrible liar.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. She did not have to feign shock. “My lord?”

  “Your fibs. Even if the words had rung true—which they didn’t—you hide your thoughts poorly.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, could think of nothing to say, and closed it again.

  “As I thought. I don’t know why or for whom you would be seeking a public house, it seems a rather odd request, especially coming from a lady—” She opened her mouth again; he held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “However, I am feeling rather magnanimous this evening…and I am inclined to indulge you.”

  She couldn’t help the smile that flashed. “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Don’t thank me too quickly.”

  Callie’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the words that she had spoken to him just moments ago. “What do you want?”

  She expected a number of things from him at that moment—another request relating to Juliana’s lessons, an entrée to Almack’s, a dinner invitation from her mother, from Rivington’s mother, even. She was prepared for those things. At this moment, they seemed an even trade for the name of a tavern where she could continue her adventures.

  She was not expecting him to smile. And so, when he did—a wicked, wolfish grin that shook her to her toes—she was completely unprepared. A burst of heat spread through her, and her heart began to pound. She couldn’t stop staring at his white teeth, his wide, soft lips, the single dimple that appeared in one cheek.

  He was more handsome than he had ever been.

  Ralston took advantage of her unguarded state, closing in on her until her back was pressed against the wall. She noticed belatedly that the small alcove was remarkably quiet, considering the mass of humanity that was just out of sight. He had selected a space that was almost entirely blocked by a massive column and a cluster of large ferns, affording them a measure of privacy.

  He did not seem to care that the entire ton was mere inches away.

  She grew nervous.

  He reached out and ran a finger down the length of her arm, leaving a trail of fire where he touched her. Taking her gloved hand in his, he turned it over, baring her wrist to his gaze. He brushed his thumb over the delicate skin there, sending her pulse racing. Callie’s entire world had been reduced to this single moment, this single caress. She could not tear her eyes from the point where they touched. The warmth of his hand, the even stroke of his thumb, consumed her as it threatened her sanity.

  She did not know how long he stood caressing her before he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed his mouth to the bare skin of her wrist. Her eyes closed against the flood of sensation that came with the touch—the softness of his lips, parted just enough to breathe a hot, moist kiss upon her before he scraped his teeth against the sensitive spot. She heard her own gasp and opened her eyes just in time to feel his tongue soothing the skin. He boldly met her gaze as he wreaked havoc on her senses, and she couldn’t help but watch him, knowing that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  With one final kiss, Ralston let go of her hand, holding her gaze as he leaned toward her. When he spoke, his words were more air than sound as they brushed softly over the skin of her temple. “The Dog and Dove.”

  At first, she was confused. While she hadn’t been certain of precisely what he would say, she had not been expecting that. And then, from deep within the haze of sensuality that he had created around them, understanding dawned. Her eyes widened. Before she could say anything, he was gone, leaving her to regain her sanity in private.

  When she exited the alcove, flushed with anticipation, she was not surprised to discover that the marquess had taken his leave entirely.

  He had, however, given her the name of a tavern.

  Seven

  Anne, you must help me.” Callie’s tone was pleading as she watched her outraged maid unravel the long strands of hair that she had carefully arranged prior to the betrothal ball.

  “I must do no such thing,” the older woman scoffed. “You do realize that, if it were discovered, I could lose my position!”

  “You know that I would never allow that to happen,” Callie said. “But I cannot do this without you!”

  Anne met Callie’s eyes in the looking glass. “Well then, you shall have a very difficult time of it, Callie-mine. If you were caught…think of your reputation!”

  “I shan’t be caught!” Callie spun to face Anne, her half-unraveled hair flying out behind her. “First, everyone is so distracted by the ball that no one would even notice that I have gone. With your help in securin
g a disguise, the odds of my being caught would be virtually nil! Just one night, Anne. I will be back in no time, with none the wiser.” Callie paused, her hands coming together, as she added, “Please. Don’t I deserve an evening of excitement, as well?”

  The older woman paused to consider Callie’s quiet words, then heaved a resigned sigh. “This list shall be the death of both of us.”

  Callie grinned broadly. She had won. “Excellent! Oh, Anne, thank you!”

  “You shall have to do more than thank me when the earl comes for my head.”

  “Done.” Callie couldn’t stop smiling as she turned to provide the maid with better access to the row of buttons down the back of her gown.

  As Anne began to unhook the fastenings, she shook her head again, muttering to herself. “A tavern. In the dead of night. I must be mad to help you.”

  “Nonsense,” Callie said vehemently. “You are merely a very good friend. A very good friend who should have Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday free.”

  The maid offered a noncommittal grunt at the obvious bribe. “Have you ever even seen the inside of a tavern?”

  “Of course not,” Callie said. “I’ve never had the opportunity to do so.”

  “One might think there was a reason for that,” Anne said dryly.

  “Have you ever been inside a tavern?”

  The maid nodded brusquely. “I’ve had reason to visit a public house a time or two. I simply hope that the Marquess of Ralston has recommended one with a respectable clientele. I do not like that he was so willing to help you tarnish your reputation, Callie.”

  “Do not blame Ralston, Anne. I’m sure that he would not have made the recommendation had he thought I might be the one to patronize the Dog and Dove.”