Callie woke to the sound of rustling paper.
She opened her eyes at the noise then, disoriented in the dim, gray light that marked the predawn hour, closed them once more. The fire in her room had gone out hours ago, and she cuddled closer to the source of heat next to her, stretching against the smooth, warm skin…before realizing precisely to whom the skin in question belonged.
Her eyes flew open, and she met Ralston’s bold, amused gaze.
“Good morning, Empress.” She felt more than heard the words as they rumbled in his chest, filled with sleep, and she blushed. After all, it wasn’t every day that she woke to a man in her bed. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, but she felt certain that ignoring him was highly improper. Pulling away from him in a desperate attempt to restore a semblance of ladylikeness to her person, she said, “Good morning. What time is it?”
“Just before five,” he answered, one arm snaking around her and pulling her back to her original position, pressed against his very warm, very hard, very naked body. “Altogether too early to leave this bed.”
“We shall be caught!” she whispered.
“I shall leave before that will happen, lovely,” he promised, “but first, I must return something to you.” He lifted his free hand and, in horror, she recognized the paper he held. Her list.
She lunged for it, and he easily held it away from her, forcing her to squirm across his chest, reaching for the parchment. She quickly realized that she was fighting a losing battle and stopped, turned accusing eyes on him. “You had it!”
“You needn’t look at me as though I stole it, lovely.” He spoke with mock affront. “You misplaced it. I merely rescued it for you.”
“Well,” she said, her voice sweet, “I am very lucky to have you as my savior, aren’t I?” She reached out for the paper. “I should like it back.”
“I shall be happy to oblige, of course,” he said, waving the paper idly in the air, “but don’t you think that, considering our new relationship, I should be let in on your little list? After all, I shouldn’t like to be taken unawares by your eccentric activities once we’re married.”
Callie’s eyes widened. “No! You can’t! You promised you wouldn’t look!” She wriggled against him again, resuming her quest to rescue her list from his clutches.
“Yes, well, that’s what you get for attaching yourself to a renowned cad,” he teased, groaning as her lush breasts pressed against his chest. He stilled her with one hand. “Be careful, Empress, or I shall have to prove myself a rogue once more.”
She was filled with feminine understanding at the power her nakedness had over him. She slithered against him, deliberately rubbing across one of his nipples, and reveled in the hissing sound of his breath. “Minx,” he growled, stealing her lips for a deep kiss. Ending the caress, he said, “No. You shan’t distract me. Let’s have a look at this list.”
Recognizing defeat, Callie buried her face against him, cheeks flaming, as he read the list. What would he think of her? What would he say? She waited, the hair on his chest tickling her nose, for him to respond to her ridiculous list.
He was silent for a long while. And then he said, “Which of these did you do first?”
And she wanted to die of embarrassment. She shook her head.
“Callie. Which one came first?”
She answered, the words muffled by his chest.
“I can’t hear you, love.”
She turned her head, pressing her ear to where she could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart. “Kissing.”
His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “The night you came to Ralston House.”
She nodded, face on fire. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Why me?”
He’d asked the question in his bedchamber that night, and she’d answered with a half-truth. But this morning, as dawn crept across the sky in long, pink streaks, Callie found that she did not want to lie. She wanted him to know her. Even if it risked everything.
“Because I wanted it to be you. From the beginning. I wanted my first kiss to be with you.”
“The other day,” he said quietly, stroking his hand along the soft skin of her shoulders, “at Ralston House. You said it had always been me. What does that mean?”
She stiffened against him, and he waited while she considered his question. She did not meet his eye when she said, “I’ve loved you for ages. For longer than I should have, I imagine.”
“How?”
She paused long enough for him to think she might not answer. “We met once. I was young and impressionable. You were charming and unobtainable and…I couldn’t help myself.” She looked away again, staring into nothing. “You’re rather difficult to ignore.”
“Why do I not remember?” he asked softly.
“I’m not exactly a legendary beauty.” A ghost of a smile flashed and her gaze fell to his chest, where her fingers idly stroked the smattering of dark hair there. “I’m rarely noticed, actually.”
He captured her hand, stilling it, and forced her to meet his eyes. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice you, Callie, but I can tell you that I was rather an imbecile not to have done so.” She caught her breath at the words, so honest, so forthright.
His eyes returned to the paper. “You have some items to cross off this list.”
She followed the direction of his gaze, reading. “Gambling,” she agreed, “I shall cross it off the moment I am again in possession of the list. Should that ever happen again,” she added meaningfully.
He looked back at her, his eyes dark and serious despite her attempt at lightheartedness. “Not just gambling, Callie. It’s time you realize how beautiful you are.”
She looked away at the words, but he captured her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze again as he spoke. “You are, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“No…” she whispered, “I am not. But it is very kind of you to say it.”
He shook his head firmly. “Hear me well. I cannot begin to list all the things about you that are beautiful—a man could lose himself in your eyes; in your lovely, full lips; in your silken hair; in your soft, luscious curves; in your creamy, perfect skin and the way you blush and turn it the color of an exquisite, ripe peach. And that’s without considering your warmth, your intelligence, your humor, and the way I am utterly drawn to you when you enter a room.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at the words—words she desperately wanted to believe.
“Never doubt how beautiful you are, Callie. For your beauty has quite ruined me for all others. And, frankly, I rather wish I’d found you years ago.”
So do I, she thought. What if he’d noticed her all those years ago? What if he’d courted her then? Would she have had a life filled with romance and passion? Would she have avoided the deep, heart-wrenching loneliness that she’d so long denied?
And what about him? Would he have learned to love?
Her emotions played across her face and, while he couldn’t have known precisely what she was thinking, he seemed to understand nevertheless. He took her lips in a passionate kiss and she matched it, pouring a depth of feeling into the caress and stealing his breath.
When the kiss ended, he offered her a wicked grin. “I shall just have to make up for lost time, I imagine.” And she couldn’t help but laugh at his rakish tone. “Would you like to cross another item off this list today?”
“I should like that very much. Which do you propose?” She turned to look at the list as he let it fall from his fingers, unwanted, and he pulled her atop him. She gasped at the feel of him firm and warm beneath her, the smoothness of his skin between her thighs.
“I think it’s time you try riding astride.” As she took in his meaning, the words sent a liquid heat straight to the core of her, where she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her in the most intimate of ways.
“You can’t mean…” She paused as his hands lifted her into a seated position, cupping her breasts and rubbing his thumbs across her fast-hardening nipples.
“Oh, but I do, indeed, mean, Empress.” His words were soft and tempting as he pulled her down just far enough to provide him access to the tips of her breasts. He kissed first one, then the other, while running his hand down her back to caress her rounded buttocks, rearranging her, opening her thighs. He released one turgid nipple with a lingering lick and watched her with heavy-lidded eyes as he guided her to sit straight up. His hands moved again, leaving fire in their wake, finally finding the place where she ached for him and stroking the slick, wet folds of her sex, and rolling his thumb over the hard, wanting nub of pleasure that seemed to belong to him now.
She whispered his name in the early-morning light, and he spoke in soft encouragements, “That’s it, Empress, come for me. I want to watch you fall apart above me…so passionate…so beautiful.”
The words were sinful, wicked and tempting and perfect, and it took all of Callie’s will to shake her head, placing her hands on his chest to support her weight. “No…” she protested. “I don’t want to…not without you with me.”
The words rocked him to his core, and he could think of little else but being inside of her, driving her to the edge and toppling over with her. “Please, Gabriel,” she pleaded. “Please make love to me.”
He never had a chance.
In seconds, he had lifted her and positioned himself at the entrance to her warm, luxurious heat, and he allowed her to feel her power over him as she sank down onto his shaft, seating herself to the hilt. Her eyes were wide with the newfound pleasure of this movement, and in that moment he adored her—her eager uncertainty making her thoroughly irresistible.
He set his hands to her hips, guiding her up, then back down, slowly, showing her the movements, encouraging her exploration. “That’s it, beautiful,” he whispered, watching as her voluptuous body rose and fell on him in sweet torment. “Ride me.” And she did, finding her own marvelous rhythm—one that he thought would certainly kill him if he didn’t so desperately want to live to see the ecstasy on her face when she found her release.
He didn’t have to wait long. She perfected the angle, tiny little gasps of pleasure marking each step she took toward the ultimate goal, and he held on to her hips, his grasp firm and encouraging as she reached for completion. “Take it, Empress,” he said hoarsely, as he watched her crest on a wave of pleasure, eyes closed, back arched, head thrown back in complete abandon as she moved against him. “Take what you want.”
Her eyes opened, and he read the desire in her gaze. “Come with me,” she said, not understanding the erotic power of the words. He could do nothing but give her that for which she had asked. He flexed beneath her as she lost her strength and fell against him, catching her cries with a kiss, rolling her to her back and continuing their movements until the pleasure shattered around her again. Only then did he give himself up to the powerful pulsing release that made him never want to leave her arms or her bed again.
Minutes later, as they lay tangled together, dazed in the aftermath of their loving, Callie began to chuckle silently against Gabriel’s side. Lifting his head to find her grinning a wide, silly grin, he drawled, “What is it that has you so amused, lovely?”
“I was simply thinking”—she stopped to catch her breath from the laughter and started again—“I was merely thinking that if that is what riding astride is like, the female population is missing out on one of life’s finer experiences.” The last word was lost as she dissolved once more into giggles.
He caught her against him in a fierce hug and sighed, unable to keep himself from smiling up at the ceiling as he said, “You know, Empress, men do not appreciate laughter at this particular moment. It’s devastating to the self-confidence.”
Her head snapped up and she took in his amused countenance. “Oh, my apologies, good sir,” she teased. “I would hate to damage such a fragile ego as that of the Marquess of Ralston.”
With a playful growl, he pinned her to the mattress. “Minx. You shall pay for that.” And he began to kiss down the side of her neck, nibbling across her collarbone until she sighed with pleasure.
“If this is how I must pay for it, my lord, you may guarantee I shall tease you a great deal in the coming months.”
“More than months, I hope,” he drawled, distracted by her lovely white breasts. “Years. Decades, even.”
“Decades,” she repeated, awestruck. My God. He’s going to be my husband.
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured against her skin before pulling away from her. “Which is why, despite how very difficult it shall be for me to leave you warm and lush in your bed, I shall console myself with the fact that, very soon, I shan’t have to do so ever again.”
She watched as he dressed, marveling at his magnificent form before he leaned over her to deliver her a soft, wonderful farewell kiss. “Will you be at the Chilton Ball tonight?”
“I had planned to be.”
“Excellent. I will see you then. Save me a waltz.” He kissed her again, savoring the taste of her. “Save me all of them.”
She smiled. “That will certainly cause a stir.”
“Indeed, but I believe our reputations can handle it.” He winked. “I shall have special license in hand by then. How would you feel about marrying tonight at Chilton House and being done with the whole thing?”
Warmth burst in her chest. “I think it shall give any number of members of the ton the vapors.”
“An added bonus, then,” he said, before giving her a long, lingering kiss. And then he was gone, leaving her dazed and exhausted and happy.
She was almost instantly asleep. And when she dreamed, she dreamed of him, and of their future together.
“Oh, Callie! A marquess!”
Callie rolled her eyes at her mother’s exclamation and looked across the carriage to her siblings for support. It didn’t take long to realize that they would be no help at all. Mariana was smirking, obviously thrilled that hers had been relegated to second-most-exciting upcoming marriage for the duration of the evening, and Benedick looked as though he was seriously considering leaping from the moving vehicle to avoid their mother’s chirping excitement.
“I cannot believe you caught a marquess, Callie! And Ralston at that! And you, Benedick,” the dowager countess turned her attention to her eldest child, “I cannot believe that you kept Ralston’s plans from me for so long!”
“Yes, well, Callie and Ralston were eager to keep their courtship a secret, Mother.” The countess burst into a flurry of chatter as Benedick raised an eyebrow and mouthed, From all of us.
Callie couldn’t keep her slippered foot from flying. “Oy!” Benedick exclaimed, reaching down to rub his wounded shin.
“Oh, I am sorry, Benny,” Callie said sweetly. “It must be the nerves making me jumpy.”
Benedick’s eyes narrowed as their mother spoke, “Of course it is your nerves! Oh! To think! Our Callie! Betrothed! To Ralston!”
“Mother, please do attempt not to make a production of the news this evening, will you?” Callie pleaded. “I shouldn’t like to embarrass Ralston.”
Benedick and Mariana let out twin bursts of laughter at the idea that the dowager countess was at all capable of such decorum. “A bit late for that, don’t you think, Callie?” Benedick teased, as the carriage rolled to a stop and he leapt out to hand down his mother and sisters.
Before she exited the carriage, the countess placed a comforting hand on Callie’s leg. “Nonsense, Callie. Ralston’s been around long enough to know how these things are. He’ll forgive an elated mother.”
Callie groaned as her mother exited the carriage. “I should have asked Ralston to elope.”
Mariana grinned broadly. “Now you know how I feel.” With a wink, she was gone, after the dowager countess.
By the time Callie was out of the carriage, her mother had already started up the steps to Chilton House to eagerly share her news with anyone who would listen, and Callie had a sinking feeling that this was going to be the most awful night of her life. She looked into her siblings’ laughing eyes, and said, “You two are no help.”
The eldest and youngest Hartwell children smiled, unable to contain their amusement. “Shouldn’t you try to find Ralston, Callie? Before Mother has worked her magic, that is,” Mariana said helpfully.
“Is that what it is? Magic?” Callie turned to watch as their mother, a beacon in lime green—complete with enormous lace-and-ostrich-feather headdress—spoke excitedly to Lady Lovewell, tapping her fan excitedly against the arm of the most-renowned gossip of the ton. “Dear Lord,” Callie breathed.
“I’ve tried prayer myself,” Benedick said genially. “It doesn’t seem to work with her. I believe she’s made a deal with the Maker.”
“Or with someone else,” Callie posited, adjusting her shawl and following in her mother’s wake, the sound of her siblings’ laughter trailing behind her.
Once inside, Callie tried desperately to find Ralston in the crush of people that filled the ballroom to bursting. She stood just inside the room attempting to appear casual as she turned in a slow crescent, searching for him. Her height, or lack thereof, made the task particularly difficult, however, and eventually, with a sigh, she instinctively made for Spinster Seating.
She had just rounded the corner of the ballroom and had Miss Heloise and Aunt Beatrice in her sights when at her shoulder, a deep, familiar voice spoke quietly. “Where are you off to, Empress?”
A thrill coursed up her spine and she turned toward Ralston, unable to keep her pleasure at his finding her hidden. Of course, once she was facing him—all tall, broad, handsome, impeccably dressed, and starched-cravatted him—she was instantly shy.
What did one say, after all, to one’s fiancé, whom one had last seen in one’s bedroom, as he sneaked out just before daybreak?
He lifted one arrogant brow, as though he were reading her thoughts. She heard the beginning strains of a waltz as he took one of her gloved hands in his. “I should like very much to dance the first waltz with my betrothed,” he said casually.
“Oh,” she said, quietly. She let him guide her to the dance floor and sweep her into his arms.
After several moments of silence, he spoke again. “So. Where were you heading?”
She shook her head, unable to lift her gaze from his cravat. “Nowhere.”
He pulled away slightly, tilting his head to look at her. “Callie,” he said, in a tone that she was certain no female had ever been able to resist. “Where were you going?”
“Spinster Seating,” she blurted, immediately regretting the words. It wasn’t as if people actually called it that.
He blinked once, his eyes moving to the elderly ladies several feet away, then back to her. One side of his mouth kicked up. “Why?”
Her cheeks flamed. “I…I don’t know.”
“You’re not a spinster anymore, beautiful,” he said, close to her ear.
“Don’t call me that.” Callie darted her gaze around to see if anyone was looking at them and might have heard. It appeared that everyone was looking at them. Her mother had worked quickly.
He turned her quickly, regaining her attention. “But it’s true,” he said, feigning innocence. “You are very soon to be the Marchioness of Ralston. I’m not saying that you cannot still socialize with Misses Heloise and Beatrice,” he teased. “I’m simply saying you’ll have to rename the area in which you do it.”
She couldn’t help her smile. “I would much prefer to waltz with you than sit with them, my lord.” The words came quickly, and she wondered immediately if she had been too forward…if she were pushing him too far. After all, Ralston never seemed to like society before, there was certainly no reason why he should begin to attend social events now. She risked a glance up into his knowing, amused eyes.
“I would prefer that, myself, my lady.”
She played the lovely words over and over in her head as he whirled her across the room, and she basked in the knowledge that she would dance again, and often, with him once they were married. Callie looked past him to see Juliana watching them, a bright smile on her face. She turned to Ralston, and said, “You told your brother and sister about us.”
“I thought it better they hear it from me than from your mother.”
Callie winced at the words. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel, I tried to keep her quiet.”
He chuckled. “You should have known better than to even attempt it. Let her have her fun, lovely.”
“You shan’t feel that way for long,” Callie warned.
“Well then, I think we had best enjoy my magnanimity while it lasts, hadn’t we?”
He swirled her to a stop as the music faded, and they made their way to Juliana, who threw herself into Callie’s arms with a quiet squeal. Callie laughed at the younger girl but couldn’t help being caught up in the excitement of the evening and the news that she and Ralston were to be married.
She had no time to chat, however, when a quadrille began and Nick joined them, bowing low and asking her to partner him. She happily accepted her future brother-in-law’s offer, and the two were soon halfway across the room. After the quadrille, she was instantly partnered for a country dance, a second quadrille, a minuet, and so on until she had danced every dance during the first hour of the ball. And she was having a lovely time.
As she promenaded around the room with Lord Weston, a charming young man in line for a dukedom, she wondered at the strange turn of events. From Spinster Seating to the belle of the ball and all it took was a marriage proposal.
She paused. A marriage proposal from Ralston.
Ralston.
And then, as though she’d conjured him up, he was there, at her side. Taking her elbow, he guided her around the edge of the ballroom. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, all innocence.
“You know very well that I am,” she said through her teeth. “You did this on purpose!”
He surprised her with a quick turn, moving through a barely open doorway from the stifling ballroom out onto a small, secluded balcony. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She turned to look at him, silhouetted in the golden light from the ballroom beyond. “You made them all dance with me! Because of my list! How embarrassing!” She took a deep breath, spinning back around to face the darkened garden, and repeating, “How very embarrassing!”
“Callie,” Ralston said, confusion in his tone. “I honestly haven’t any idea what you are about.”
She looked up at the starlit sky. “Dance every dance,” she said quietly. “Ralston, I’ve never danced so much in my life as I did this evening. You cannot possibly tell me you had nothing to do with it. You saw the list.”
“I can, indeed, tell you that I had nothing to do with it,” he argued, “because I had nothing to do with it.”
She turned back to face him. “It’s quite sweet, actually, that you would work so diligently to help me complete the items on my list. I suppose I should thank you.”
“You can thank me, lovely, but I honestly didn’t have anything to do with it.” He took a step closer to her. “Shall I prove it to you?”
She could feel the heat coming from him, welcome in the crisp spring air. “Please.”
“I don’t enjoy watching you dance with other men. I would much prefer we never attend another ball so I never again have to stand by as a line of rogues take the opportunity to touch you inappropriately.”
She gasped indignantly, “They were not inappropriate!”
“You shall have to get used to my being the judge of such things.” He came closer, leaving scant inches between them. He lifted a hand to brush an errant curl from her face. “They were inappropriate. Especially Weston.”
She laughed then. “Lord Weston is madly in love with his wife.” Lady Weston was widely considered one of the most beautiful women in London.
“She pales in comparison to you,” he said earnestly, the words rich and wonderful around her.
Callie blushed. “You really didn’t do it?”
He shook his head, a smile playing across his lips. “I really didn’t, Empress. But I am not surprised they wanted to dance with you. You are, after all, quite remarkably beautiful this evening.”
He lifted her chin, and she was at a loss for words. “Oh?”
“Indeed,” he said, cupping her cheeks, turning her head just enough to ensure the perfect angle of the kiss. He sipped at her lips, teasing her with little nibbling kisses along her soft, full bottom lip before taking her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that weakened her knees. His silken tongue stroked along her bottom lip, delving inside to taste her sweetness. She sighed into his mouth, eager for more, desperate for them to be anywhere but here—anywhere where they could revel in each other. She pressed closer to him, eager for more of his warmth, and as a ribbon of fire curled in her stomach, he emitted a low growl in the back of his throat.
“I should have known you’d be out here mauling her, Ralston. Ensuring that you have won?”
Callie pulled back instantly at the words, spoken from the entrance to the ballroom. Even without seeing the speaker, the loathing in his tone sent a chill down her spine.
Ralston stiffened and turned to face the newcomer, attempting to block her with his size. “Oxford,” he said, his tone laced with warning.
“I heard the news of your pending nuptials,” Oxford said as Callie moved out from behind Ralston to face the Baron herself. “I’ll confess I was rather surprised to discover that you’ve discovered such an interest in Lady Calpurnia, Ralston.”
“I would think very carefully before you say any more, Oxford,” Ralston said through gritted teeth.
“But why would I do that?” Callie noticed the baron sway with the words, and she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he were foxed. “I’ve got nothing to lose, you see. I’ve already lost, haven’t I?”
At that moment, Mariana and Benedick stumbled out onto the balcony, interrupting the conversation. “Callie,” Mariana said breathlessly. “You should come with me.”
Callie’s eyes widened. “Why? What has happened?”
Mariana met Ralston’s eyes with a scathing, imperious look. “Nothing yet, thankfully.” Turning back to her sister, she repeated, “You must come with me. Now.”
Callie shook her head, backing up until she could feel Ralston’s nearness. Taking in Oxford’s smirking grin, Mariana’s pleading gaze, and Benedick’s stoic one, she turned to Ralston. “Gabriel?” she asked, confusion and uncertainty in the single word.
“Callie. Go with Mariana,” Benedick interrupted.
Callie turned on her brother. “I will not. I will not leave before someone tells me precisely what is happening.” Shifting her gaze to Mariana, she said, “Mari?”
Mariana sighed. “It is being said that Oxford and Ralston placed a wager upon you.”
The idea was so preposterous that Callie laughed. “What kind of wager?”
“They are saying inside that Ralston bet Oxford that he could not win your hand.” Benedick’s eyes did not leave Ralston—his loathing barely contained. “And, when he discovered that Oxford was close to winning you—he took you for himself.”
“They’re saying that you’ve been compromised, Callie, and that is why Ralston…” Mariana trailed off.
Callie laughed again. “How very dramatic. Can you imagine?” She turned her smiling eyes on Ralston, expecting him to share in her amusement. In the face of his hard, unmoving expression, however, truth dawned. “Oh.” She looked to smug Oxford. “Oh.”
“Poor girl. You thought he actually wanted you,” he said with a smirk.
“Stop, Oxford.” Ralston’s words were ice-cold.
Callie turned on him. “You made a wager? On me?”
“Indeed he did,” Oxford said with a boastful tone, as though he was happy to be in the thick of the moment that would forever change her life. “He bet me that you wouldn’t marry me. And when it looked like I might win, he doubled the wager and courted you to ensure that he’d win. I suspect that it didn’t hurt that aligning himself to your family would also guarantee his sister a sound place in society.”
Callie did not remove her gaze from Ralston. “Is it true? Did you wager on me?”
There was a beat as Ralston searched for the right answer. And, in that moment, Callie knew.
Ralston took a step toward her, and she backed away, Mariana placing a reassuring hand at the small of her back as he said, almost desperately, “It wasn’t like that.”
“How much?”
“Callie.” Mariana whispered, trying to avoid a scene, but Callie held up a hand to stay her words.
“How much, my lord?”
He looked away. “Two thousand pounds.”
Callie felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her.
“When?” she whispered.
“Callie—”
“When?” She repeated, louder.
“The afternoon of your sister’s betrothal ball.”
Callie’s face fell. “The day you asked me to dance.”
His eyes widened as he registered the timeline. “Callie—”
“No.” She shook her head. “And when did you double it?”
When he did not answer, she turned to Oxford. “When did he double it?”
Oxford wavered. “Tuesday.”
The morning he proposed. He’d still thought of her as nothing more than a wager only a short time ago.
“I should have known,” she whispered, the sound so sad, so raw, that Ralston thought his heart would break. “I should have known you didn’t really…you couldn’t really…” She trailed off. She took a deep breath before she looked up at him, her enormous brown eyes glistening with unshed tears, and said, “I would have helped you with Juliana anyway. I would have done anything you asked of me.”
The truth of her past unwavering devotion overwhelmed her, and a single tear tracked down her cheek before she wiped it away in irritation. She could barely hear the sounds of the ball beyond for the blood pounding in her ears as a wave of familiar insecurity crashed over her.
She had been so very very stupid.
How many times had she told herself that Ralston was not for her? That she was too plain, too plump, too inexperienced and uninteresting to capture his interest? How many times had she been warned? By her family, her friends, his mistress, for God’s sake. And yet she had allowed herself to believe that the fantasy could be real. That, one day, the world had tilted just so on its axis and Ralston had fallen for her. And here he was…wagering on her future. Playing with her emotions and her love as though she were a toy to be used, then cast aside.
And she felt so very cast aside.
It was so easy to believe that she meant so little to him. So tempting to fall back into the comfortable invisibility that came with being a passive wallflower whom so few people really noticed.
And that was what hurt the most.
Pulling herself up to her full height and squaring her shoulders before she spoke, emotion gone from her voice. “You really have won, my lord. For, not only am I not marrying Lord Oxford, I am not marrying you, either. I release you from our betrothal. You are free to resume your life of self-indulgence and profligacy.”
He opened his mouth to speak, to stay her, to explain everything—his silly pride, his ridiculous, irrational anger in the face of the idiot Oxford—but she cut him off before he could speak. “I only ask that you stay as far away from me as possible.”
And then she was gone, pushing past Benedick and Oxford into the ballroom beyond, Mariana following closely behind.
Ralston moved to follow, twin bursts of uncertainty and pride coursing through him at her newfound strength, at her powerful confidence, at her unwillingness to compromise her desires. He wanted to capture her and tell her the whole truth—that he didn’t care about Juliana’s coming out or about his family’s reputation or about anything else.
“Leave her.” The words, hard and unfeeling, came from the Earl of Allendale, who had placed himself between Ralston and the entrance to the ballroom the moment his sister had escaped.
“I never wanted to hurt her. The wager means nothing. I don’t need the money, Allendale. You know that.”
“I do know that. And I don’t fully understand what possessed you to continue with this ridiculous game.” Allendale remained unmoving, daring Ralston to come at him. “Nevertheless, you have hurt her. And if you go near her again, I shall trounce you. As it is, we shall have a beast of a time dealing with a broken engagement.”
“The engagement is not broken.” Ralston’s voice was steel.
“You should let it go, Ralston. She is not worth it,” Oxford said cheerfully.
Ralston turned to face the all-but-forgotten dandy who had single-handedly destroyed the best thing in his life, and said, “What did you say?”
“I said she’s not worth it,” Oxford pressed on, oblivious to the hardened planes of Ralston’s face—to the harsh stiffening of his body. “Certainly, the best thing about spinsters is that they’re eager for a toss, but you can’t really mean to tell me you need to resort to one as plain and uninspiring as that one. Although, it did appear that she was more than willing to lift her skirts for you…and I suppose that is something.”
Benedick stiffened, and fury, hot and quick, coursed through Ralston at the words, so demeaning and unpleasant, directed at the woman he planned to make his wife. Because there was absolutely no question that Callie was going to be his wife.
Drunk or no, Oxford would pay for his words.
Reaching out, Ralston grabbed Oxford by the lapels of his topcoat and slammed him against the stone wall that marked one edge of the balcony. The force of the blow took the breath out of the baron, and, gasping for air, he slumped to the ground, clutching his chest.
Ralston looked down his long, elegant nose at the vile creature at his feet, and said, “You just impugned the honor of my future marchioness. Choose your seconds. I will see you at dawn.”
Leaving Oxford sputtering on the ground, Ralston spun on one elegant heel to face Benedick. “When I am done with him, I am coming for your sister. And, if you intend to keep me from her, you had better have an army at your side.”