Anne opened her mouth to respond as a knock sounded and the door to the room opened.
“Callie? Mother said you were feeling ill? Is there something—” Mariana’s question ended on a scream as she registered the man sitting in her sister’s bedchamber.
The sound spurred Callie and Anne into motion, both spinning away from the dressing table and toward Mariana. Anne closed the door to the room firmly, pressing her back against the wood and spreading her arms out to block Mari’s exit. Callie headed for her sister, who was frantically shaking her head at the image that Callie made, dressed head to toe in men’s clothing.
“Shh! Mariana! You’ll bring the house running!”
Mari cocked her head at her sister’s words, and Callie waited as understanding dawned. “What are you doing dressed like that?” the younger girl whispered.
“It’s rather complicated,” Callie hedged.
“My Lord!” Mari went on, eyes wide. “It’s incredible! I actually thought you a man when I entered!”
“I noticed! I suppose I have that to be thankful for, at least!” Callie turned her attention to Anne. “Is anyone out there?”
Anne shook her head. “I think it is too late in the day for there to be many people above stairs.”
Mari could not contain her curiosity, “Callie, why are you dressed as a man?”
“I—I—” Callie looked to Anne for help. The maid crossed her arms defiantly and raised both eyebrows, leaving Callie with no aid. “Mari—I’ll tell you—but you must keep my secret.”
“Of course!” Mari’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I love secrets!” She hopped up on the bed and waved a hand at Callie. “Turn around so I can see the whole disguise!” Callie did as she was told.
“Amazing! What did you do to your…” Mari waved her hand in the general direction of Callie’s chest.
Callie sighed. “We bound them.”
Mari turned to Anne. “Excellent work!” The maid nodded in acknowledgment of the praise. Mari turned a bright smile on Callie. “Now, go on.”
Taking a deep breath, Callie began, “Several weeks ago, I made a list of the things I would do if I had the courage to risk my reputation.” Mariana’s jaw dropped, and Callie discovered that was the hardest part of the tale—once it was out, the rest seemed rather easy to tell. Skipping the visit to Ralston’s home, she told her sister about her visit to the Dog and Dove.
“What was it like?”
“The tavern?” At Mari’s eager nod, Callie said, “Fascinating.”
“And the scotch?”
“Horrid. But not as horrid as the cheroot.”
“The cheroot?” Mari’s mouth gaped again.
Callie blushed. “After the tavern, I came home and Benedick and I smoked a cheroot.”
“Benedick let you smoke a cheroot?” Mari’s response was incredulous.
“Shh! Yes, but you cannot tell him you know.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Mari paused, an impish grin crossing her face. “At least, not yet, not until I need something from him.”
“So,” Callie pushed on, “I decided that this afternoon is the time for the next item on the list.”
“Which is?”
“Fencing.”
Mariana blinked, absorbing Callie’s words. “Fencing!” She looked Callie up and down. “You can’t wear that fencing.”
“I have a fencing suit tailored to fit me. I shall change into it at the club. Once I’m safely inside.”
“You’ve thought of everything!” Mari said with pride.
“I hope so,” Callie said nervously. “Do you really think I can pass as a man?”
Mari clapped her hands twice in excitement, “Oh, yes! I’m your sister, and I was fooled!” She leaned forward. “Callie, let me come with you!”
Anne and Callie shared a nervous look. “What? No!” Callie looked at her sister in horror.
“I could steal some clothes from one of the footmen. We could go together!”
“Absolutely not! Think of your reputation!”
“That doesn’t seem to be stopping you!”
“Mari,” Callie said slowly, as though speaking to a child, “I’m on the shelf. You’re to marry a duke in a month. I don’t think the ton would take well to a ruined duchess.”
Mari tilted her head, considering Callie’s words for a moment before heaving a giant sigh. “Fine. But at least let me help you get to a carriage.”
Callie smiled. “That, sister, you can do.”
“Excellent.” Mari met Anne’s eyes. “You realize that if you aren’t back before dinner, we shall have to send Benedick to find you.”
Callie went pale at the thought. “You wouldn’t!”
“Indeed, we would,” Mari said, turning to the maid for confirmation. “Wouldn’t we, Anne?”
Anne nodded vehemently. “Of course! We couldn’t very well ignore your not returning. What if something were to happen to you?”
“What could happen to me at a fencing club?”
“You could be run through,” Mariana speculated.
Callie gave her sister an exasperated look. “I shall be fencing in a practice room. With a bag of sand.” Was it her? Or did Mariana look disappointed? “I shall be home by dinner.”
“If you aren’t back…” Mari started.
“I shall be.” Callie straightened her coat. “Now, if you’ll help me get out of this house, I have fencing to do.”
Mari clapped her hands again, eager for Callie’s adventure to begin. She leapt from her spot on the bed and clasped Callie to her. “I’m so proud of you, sister. I cannot wait for you to return with tales of the foil!” She stepped back and assumed the en garde position, then giggled. “Oh, Callie! To be you!” she said dreamily.
Callie shook her head at her sister’s response before accepting gloves and a cane from Anne. Yes, to be me. An aging spinster with a newfound penchant for the ruin of her reputation.
It did appear that Mariana no longer considered her passive, however.
That was something.
Thirteen
Callie took a deep breath, bolstering her courage as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of Benedick’s sporting club.
After waiting several long moments for the driver to open the door to the vehicle and help her out, then realizing that he would do no such thing for a man, she scrambled out of the hack, landing unceremoniously on the gravel roadway. Keeping her head down for fear of being discovered, Callie peeked at the gentlemen around her on the street. She recognized the Earl of Sunderland heading straight for her, and she snapped her head away, eyes closed, certain he would discover her. When he passed by, paying her no mind, she let out the long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
She approached the door to the club, remembering to brandish the cane as though it were an extension of her arm rather than a cumbersome thing to carry. The door opened, revealing a footman standing to the side of the entryway, the portrait of disinterest. The disguise was working!
Entering the foyer, she gave a quick prayer of thanks that it was empty, save the club steward, who approached her immediately. “Sir? May I assist you in some way?”