No wonder he’d apologized.
She sighed, wishing she could banish the memory of Ralston’s earnest words, so forthright and gentlemanly that they made her want to spit.
Or cry.
She took a deep breath, willing away the stinging tears that hovered just behind her eyes. She would not cry on what was to become, she hoped, the most exciting night of her life. Exciting not because of Ralston…but because of her.
And a little because of Ralston.
Fine. And a very little because of Ralston. But mainly because of her.
She thought for a moment, attempting to divine whether gambling or Brooks’s was more of a draw. It was impossible to decide. She would simply have to wait until she had first-hand experience. Which she would have in…she looked at the clock again. Twelve past nine. Was it possible that the timepiece was somehow broken? It couldn’t possibly have been only two minutes since the last time she checked. She watched the hands on the clock face, waiting for the minute hand to move to thirteen minutes past. The wait was interminable. Yes. It was most definitely broken.
Callie spun on her heel and headed toward the door to the room, intending to sneak into the hallway beyond and check the actual time. Surely it was closer to eleven. She was going to have to get dressed quickly if she was going to be on time for Ralston. She had to call for Anne.
She’d barely taken a step toward the door when it flew open and Mariana burst in, closing it immediately behind her. The younger woman stood, arms akimbo, breathless—as though she had run for miles to be there.
With a quick glance to the pristine, unused bed, Mari speared Callie with a triumphant look, and said, “I knew it!” The words were spoken as though she had just invented the wheel. Or something equally world-changing.
Callie’s eyes widened. “Knew what?”
Mariana pointed at her sister, her eyes flashing with excited accusation. “I knew you weren’t ill!” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re going to complete another item on the list!”
Callie stood frozen for several long minutes before turning away and putting a hand to her head. She headed for bed. “Whyever would you think that? I was just getting up to call for one of Cook’s remedies.”
She spared a quick glance at Mariana, who was having none of it. “Cook’s remedies?” she said, disbelief in her tone. “You could be on your deathbed and you wouldn’t take one of Cook’s remedies.” Mari rushed to the bed and leapt upon it as though she were wearing a night rail and not a stunning silk ball gown. “What’s tonight? Horse racing? Boxing? Snuff?”
Callie lay down on the bed and pulled a pillow over her face.
“I know! A brothel!”
Shocked, Callie thrust the pillow away from her face. “Mari! You are letting your imagination run wild. Of course I am not going to a brothel.”
Mari’s face fell. “Oh. That’s a pity.”
Callie leveled her sister with a wry look. “Yes. I’m sure it is. Nevertheless, I shan’t be visiting any houses of ill repute tonight.”
“But maybe another night?”
Callie shook her head. “It’s quite extraordinary that you are mere months away from being a duchess.”
Mari grinned and shrugged her shoulders in a supremely unladylike fashion. “Exactly! I shall be a duchess! Who will criticize me? Besides Mother, that is.”
Callie met her sister’s smile. “Aren’t you going to be late for the ball?”
“I don’t want to go. I want to go with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You know it’s a sin to lie,” Mariana said, all seriousness.
“Fine. I am going somewhere, but you cannot come. If we both cry sick, Mother will know there is something amiss.”
Mariana clapped her hands eagerly. “Where are you going?”
“What time is it?”
Mari’s eyes narrowed. “Callie. Do not change the subject.”
“I am not changing the subject! I just don’t want to be late.”
“It’s twenty past nine.”
Callie sighed and flopped back onto the bed. “This evening is interminable!”
“Callie!” Mariana said sharply, “Where are you going?”
Callie met her sister’s eager gaze. “If half past twelve ever comes, I am going gambling.”
Mari gasped. “No!”
Callie grinned. “Yes!”
“Are you going to a hell?”
“No…I thought it might be too easy to be caught there. I’m going to Brooks’s.”
Mariana froze. “Brooks’s…as in, the men’s club?”
Callie nodded, color flooding her cheeks.
“You think it will be more difficult to get caught at Brooks’s than at a gaming hell?” Mariana shook her head in amazement. “You’re mad.”
“I’m not!”
“How are you ever going to…My God! Callie! Women aren’t allowed at Brooks’s! If you were caught…”
“I shan’t be.”
“How do you know?”
Callie paused, unsure of what to say. Mariana pressed on. “Callie.”
“Ralston is taking me.”
Mariana blinked twice. Callie waited for her sister to wrap her head around the announcement.
“The Marquess of Ralston?”
“The very same.”
“You’re going with Ralston?” If the words hadn’t been so nerve-racking, Callie would have laughed at Mariana’s squeaking voice. Instead, she worried the stitching on the blanket and nodded. “I knew it!” Mari crowed, triumphantly. “I knew it from the first time you waltzed! At my betrothal ball!”
“Mari! Hush! The whole house will hear you!” Callie whispered frantically.
“You’ll be ruined if you’re caught,” Mariana announced, as though the idea had never crossed Callie’s mind.
Callie nodded again in the silence that fell.
“Well, then. We shall have to be very careful to ensure that you are not caught.” Callie took heart in Mariana’s use of the word “we” as she pressed on. “It appears that you are excellently prepared for sneaking out of the house…but how are you planning to sneak back in?”
“I had thought to come back the same way—through the back door and up the servants’ stairs.”
Mariana shook her head. “It won’t do. The upper doorway of those stairs squeaks horribly, and Mother will hear.”
Callie considered her options. “I shall have to oil the hinges.”
Mari nodded. “And watch the third step from the top. It creaks.”
Callie narrowed her gaze on her sister. “How do you know that?”
“Let’s simply say that Rivington and I have had need of those stairs once or twice.”
Callie gave her sister a wide-eyed look. “Mariana!”
“It’s a little late for you to be outraged. At least I’m engaged to Rivington!” Mariana teased. “You’re meeting Ralston for a late-night rendezvous! My God! Promise me you’ll tell me everything!”
“It’s not a rendezvous,” Callie protested. “He’s merely helping me. We are…friends.”