“I should like to escort you to the door.”
“There is no need.”
“Nevertheless—”
She interrupted. “I think it best I go alone. If we were found together…” The sentence did not have to be finished. With a nod, Ralston swung open the door and alighted to hand her down to the street.
He stood unmoving, watching until she had safely entered the house through the darkened front door before he climbed back up into the carriage and, with a sharp rap to the ceiling, signaled the coachman to drive on.
Eight
Callie closed the wide oak door to Allendale House with a soft click before releasing a long sigh and leaning back against the cool wood. She slipped her key back into the hidden pocket of Anne’s cloak and placed one bare hand to the pulse at her throat, attempting to stem the pounding there.
The great marble entryway was dark and quiet; the ball had ended hours earlier, and the servants, having finished tidying the space, had taken to their beds, leaving Callie in a silence that offered her a chance to address her racing thoughts. She had set out for an adventure that evening…and an adventure she had had!
A giggle escaped her at the thought, and her hand flew to her mouth to stem the noise as she surprised herself. Ladies of her age most certainly did not giggle…but for some reason it seemed an appropriate response tonight…as she sneaked back into her home after an evening filled with excitement. She felt another laugh bubbling up and quashed it. She had to get herself above stairs and into bed before she was discovered. She had worked too hard to keep her activities that night a secret—she would not allow herself to be caught!
Creeping across the marble foyer toward the wide staircase that promised protection from discovery, Callie felt her way in the darkness, hands outstretched, searching for the thick mahogany banister. She had just set foot on the first stair when a hinge creaked behind her and a sliver of golden candlelight fell across her face. Turning with a gasp toward the now-open library door, Callie met her brother’s eyes…and instantly recognized the irritation in them.
“I can explain—”
“Where the devil have you been?” His tone was equal parts frustration and incredulity.
She paused, frozen in midmovement, and considered her options for escape. Not many, and, if one eliminated the idea of leaving the house and never returning, none whatsoever.
Pasting a smile on her face, Callie whispered, “I don’t suppose you’d believe I was in the conservatory?”
“Not a chance,” Benedick said dryly.
“The morning room? Catching up on my correspondence?”
“Again. Likely not.”
“The orangery?”
“Sister”—Benedick’s tone was laced with warning as he extended his arm and widened the library door—“may I suggest you join me?”
Recognizing defeat when faced with it, Callie sighed and trudged toward her brother, who did not move from his place leaning against the doorjamb. Dipping under his arm to enter the warm library, lit by two fireplaces and a dozen or so candles, Callie muttered to herself, “One would think I would have noticed all these lights on the way in.”
“One would think, indeed,” Benedick said dryly, closing the door. Callie swirled to face her brother as she heard the latch click.
Seeing his sister in the well-lit room did not soften Benedick’s mood. “Good God! What the hell are you wearing?”
“Mother would not approve of your using such language in the company of a lady, Benedick.”
He was not going to be distracted. “First, I’m not entirely uncertain that Mother wouldn’t use that language herself, considering the circumstances. And second, the current situation does raise a question or two about your status as a lady, Callie. Would you care to offer an explanation as to your whereabouts this evening?”
“I was at the betrothal ball this evening,” Callie hedged, failing to endear herself to her elder sibling.
“My patience is wearing thin.” His deep brown eyes flashed. “After the betrothal ball. More specifically, where did you go wearing this”—he waved an arm to indicate her attire—“disguise…I can only imagine you would call it? Where did you get such a hideous thing, anyway?”
“I borrowed it.”
“From whom?”
“I shan’t tell you.”
He slashed one hand through the air. “From Anne, I imagine. I should toss her out for encouraging your behavior.”
“Probably. But you shan’t.”
Warning flashed in his eyes. “I would not test me, Calpurnia. Now, answers. Where did you go?”
“Out.”
Benedick blinked. “Out.”
“Indeed,” Callie said with a firm nod. “Out.”
“Out where, Calpurnia?”
“Really, Benedick,” she said in her haughtiest of tones, “I don’t harangue you about your comings and goings.”
“Callie—” The word was laced with warning.
She sighed again, realizing that there was no path to escape. “Oh, fine. I sneaked out. I went to—” She stopped. There really was no easy way to say it.
“You went to—?”
“I can’t say,” she whispered.
Benedick’s eyes narrowed, his patience having run out. “Try.”
She took a deep breath. “I went to a public house.”
“You did what?” The words came out at a near roar.
“Shh! Benedick! You’ll wake the whole house!”
“I’m not so sure I shouldn’t!” He lowered his voice to a crazed whisper. “Tell me I’ve misunderstood you. Did you just say you went to a public house?”
“Shh! Yes!”
“With whom?”
“By myself!”
“By yourse—” He paused, thrusting one hand through his hair before cursing. “Whatever for?”
“To have a drink, of course,” she said as if it were perfectly normal.
“Of course.” Benedick repeated slowly, shocked. “Have you gone mad?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Were you recognized?” She was quiet, setting him further on edge. “Callie. Were you recognized?”
“Not by anyone important.”
Benedick froze, spearing her with a rich brown gaze. “By whom, then?”
She hedged. “It’s not entirely important. Suffice to say, it won’t be a problem.”
“Calpurnia.”
“Fine. Ralston saw me. He was there.”
Benedick sat heavily in a brocade chair. “Good God.”
Callie followed his lead, flopping into the chair across from him. “Well, I shouldn’t have really been surprised, considering he recommended the tavern in the first place,” she said quickly, attempting to assuage her brother before realizing that his eyes were round as saucers and her words had done more harm than good.
“Ralston recommended a tavern to you?”
“Well, to be fair, I did ask him for a recommendation.”
“Ah, well. That changes everything.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Benedick,” she said curtly. “It isn’t very becoming.”