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.”
“Unlike an unmarried lady—the daughter of an earl—asking one of London’s most notorious rakes for a recommendation to a tavern. That, of course, is the very epitome of becoming.”
“When you put it that way—I can see how it might appear—problematic.”
“Might appear?” Benedick ran a hand through his hair again. “What would possess you? What on earth were you thinking? What on earth was he thinking?” He stopped, struck by a thought. “Good God, Callie. Was he improper? I shall have his head!”
“No!” She exclaimed, “No! I approached him!”
“To ask for a tavern recommendation.”
“Yes.”
“He shouldn’t have given it to you.”
“He thought it was for you.”
“For me?” Surprise and confusion laced his tone.
“Indeed. I couldn’t very well ask him for myself, could I?”
“Of course not.” Benedick looked at her as though she were mad. “Why the hell not drink here? What did you need a tavern for?”
“Well, for one thing,” Callie said matter-of-factly, “drinking here wouldn’t be nearly as much of an adventure.”
“An adventure.”
“Indeed.” She pressed on. “And, if you take a moment to consider it, it was really all your idea.”
“My idea?” Benedick began to turn red.
“Yes. Wasn’t it you who was encouraging me to experience life mere days ago?”
The words hung in the air as Benedick leveled his sister with his most incredulous look. “You are jesting.”
“Not at all. You started it. Categorically.” She smiled, rather pleased with herself.
Benedick looked to the ceiling as though begging for divine patience. Or for the Lord to strike his sister down. Callie couldn’t quite discern which. When he spoke, his tone brooked no discussion.
“Then allow me to finish it. Categorically. I am happy for you to pursue all the adventure you like. Here. In this house. Under this roof. Drink until you can no longer stand. Curse like a dockside sailor. Set your embroidery aflame, for God’s sake. But, as your elder brother, the head of the family, and the earl,” he stressed the last words, “I forbid you from frequenting taverns, public houses, or other establishments of vice.”
She snorted in amusement. “Establishments of vice? That’s a rather puritanical view of things, isn’t it? I assure you, I was quite safe.”
“You were with Ralston!” he said, as though she were simpleminded.
“He was perfectly respectable,” she said, the words coming out before she remembered that the carriage ride home was anything but respectable.
“Imagine—my sister and the Marquess of Ralston together. And he turns out to be the respectable one,” Benedick said wryly, sending heat flaring on Callie’s cheeks, but not for the reason he thought. “No more taverns.”
Callie considered her brother. She wouldn’t need a tavern again, of course. “No more taverns,” she agreed.
“If you want adventure, take it here.”
“Really?” She turned a hopeful smile on him.
“Oh, no. Now what?”
“I don’t suppose you would give me a cheroot.”
Benedick burst into incredulous laughter. “Not on your life, sister mine.”
“Benedick! You just said—”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Have I not done enough to convince you that, if you do not assist me in experiencing life, I shall find someone else to do so?”
Benedick’s eyes narrowed. “That is blackmail.”
“And that is your opinion.” She smiled broadly. “I think it would be a nice moment, a brother helping his old, spinster sister to have an adventure.”
“I think you hold rather too-high expectations of the experience of smoking.”
“Well, no time like the present to dash those expectations, don’t you think?” She paused, offering him a pleading look. “Please? I’ve never even seen someone smoke.”
“As well you shouldn’t have!” Benedick argued imperiously, “A gentleman does not smoke in the presence of ladies.”
“But I’m your sister!”
“Nonetheless.”
“Benny…” she said, using his nickname from their childhood, “No one will ever know. You said I could have adventure inside the house!”
He watched her, not speaking, for several minutes, until she was entirely certain that she was not going to smoke a cheroot that evening. Just as she was about to stand and make her exit from the room, he heaved an enormous sigh. Hearing it, Callie’s face broke into a grin.
She had won.
She clapped her hands in excitement. “Excellent!”
“I shouldn’t push my luck if I were you,” Benedick said with warning as he reached into his breast pocket and removed a thin silver rectangle. Setting the box on the table next to his chair, he threw a catch on its underside, revealing a hidden drawer.
Callie sat forward with a gasp as the drawer came into view, craning to see. “I never knew!”
Benedick withdrew a small crystal ashtray, a tinderbox, and bundle of wooden matches. “Again, as well you shouldn’t have. I’m rather certain I shall regret showing you in the morning.”
Callie watched, fascinated, as Benedick opened the silver box and removed two long, slender brown cheroots. Putting one to his lips, he inserted the match into the tinderbox, lit the small stick of wood, and lifted the flame, producing a cloud of smoke.
“Fascinating!” Callie cocked her head to one side, watching the orange tip of the cheroot glow.
Closing his eyes briefly to both her innocence and his own bad behavior, Benedick took a long pull on the cigar, as though shoring up his confidence, then removed it from his mouth and offered it to his sister.
Giddy with excitement, she reached for it. Of course, once the burning tube was held gingerly between her fingers, she hadn’t any idea how to proceed. Meeting her brother’s amused gaze through the long column of smoke that was rising from the end of the cheroot, she said, “Now what?”
“Not much to it, really,” Benedick said nonchalantly. “Now you smoke it.”
“Like this?” she asked, carefully bringing the cheroot to her lips and inhaling deeply.
She noted Benedick’s eyes widening as she did so, and that was the last thing she registered before she began to cough. Horrible racking coughs that consumed her strength. She was vaguely aware of Benedick taking the burning stick from her hand, allowing her to pound upon her chest. Desperate for fresh air, she took huge gulps of breath, which only caused her to cough more, leading Benedick to bang on her back until she stopped him with a wave of her hand, fearing that the blows would simply knock any usable air from her lungs.
When she was once again able to focus on something other than her need for air, she registered her brother towering above her, trembling. Certain that he was quaking with concern for her well being, she looked up to allay his fears only to discover that he was instead shaking with barely controlled laughter. Her reassuring look immediately became a scowl as she noted his broad grin. His teeth gleamed white in his face, which was now red with exertion.
“You, sir, are no gentleman.”
The words sent Benedick over the edge. He could not contain his great rolling laughs at her prim displeasure. In the face of his infectious amusement, Callie began to see the humor in the situation, and she began to laugh as well, which brought on another fit of coughing, more pounding, and an additional round of laughter.
After several moments, Benedick resumed his seat and stamped out Callie’s cheroot in the ashtray as she watched. “And so we discover why women do not smoke,” he said, humor still lacing his voice.
“What a vile habit!” Callie said. “How can you do it?”
“Suffice it to say that it is an acquired taste.”
“That’s precisely what Ralston said about scotch.”
“And he was right,” Benedick said. After a few moments, he asked, “You did not enjoy that part of the evening, either, then?”
“On the contrary,” Callie said, “I enjoyed every bit of the evening. I may not drink scotch or smoke a cheroot again, but I shall always cherish the fact that I did those things. The adventure is well worth the disappointing experience.”
“I do not like this taste for adventure you have developed, sister.”
“I am afraid I cannot guarantee I shall be rid of it anytime soon. It’s a shame that woman are not able to even try the experiences that men so take for granted. You lot really are quite lucky.” Benedick turned a skeptical look on her, but she pushed on. “Come now, Benedick, you’re not really going to tell me you don’t think I deserve an adventure or two, do you? After all, you provided me with the most recent instrument of my demise.”
“A point I should like to forget.”
“Coward.”
They smiled at each other.
“Mother will have my head if she finds out.”
“She won’t find out,” Callie said, “and, even if she did, it’s not as though she has anything to worry about. I’m well and truly on the shelf. I should think I’m allowed an eccentricity or two.”
Benedick snorted with laughter. “Smoking and drinking are rather remarkable eccentricities, Callie. I’m not sure the ton would accept them—despite your having one foot in the grave.” He paused, thinking. “I’m rather shocked that Ralston would encourage you, what with you being so kind as to sponsor his sister. What was he thinking? He should have packed you into a carriage and brought you home immediately.”
Callie had the good sense to avoid telling her brother that Ralston had in fact packed her into a carriage and brought her home. Instead, she said, “I imagine he felt, as you did, that he would better serve my reputation by staying with me while I pushed the boundaries. At least, then, I had a chaperone.”
“I would not exactly refer to him as a ‘chaperone,’” Benedick growled. “I should call him out.”
“I would prefer you didn’t. I rather like him.”
He met her eyes. “You don’t—You can’t—” He leaned forward. “What does that mean?” She did not respond, leaving Benedick to try again. “Ralston…he isn’t…Callie, women don’t ‘rather like’ the Marquess of Ralston.”
Her voice was barely audible when she said, “No, I don’t suppose they do.”
As he registered the sadness in his sister’s voice, Benedick swore softly. “I saw that he danced with you tonight. I know how that must have felt. I understand that he played the part of protector at the ridiculous tavern you went to—Lord knows I’m glad he found you there or who knows what might have happened to you—but you must understand…Ralston…men like Ralston…” He stopped again, uncertain of how to say delicately what he was thinking.
Callie took pity on him and offered him an exit from the awkward conversation. “I know, Benedick. I’m not silly. Men like Ralston are not for women like me.”
Perhaps if I say it enough, I’ll begin to believe it.
She forced a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. “I should think Ralston would be far more adventure than I could endure.”
He smiled. “Not only you. Think of your poor old brother.”
Returning his smile, she stood, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the cheroot, Benny.” And, with that, she left the room, climbing the great marble stairs to her bedchamber.
Callie prepared herself for sleep slowly and methodically, refusing to allow Benedick’s words to upset her. Certainly, he was right. She was no match for Ralston; she never had been. But that night, she had come close. And, if one night were all she could have, it would have to be enough.
She replayed the events of the evening in her mind as she took down her hair, moved through her toilette and changed into her billowing white nightgown. She then smoothed out her wrinkled list and considered it frankly. For several long minutes, she sat at her desk, unmoving, reading over the items. With a sigh, she lifted her pen and drew a dark line through Smoke cheroot and drink scotch.
She snuffed the last candle and slid into bed and dreamed of the woman in Ralston’s carriage—in Ralston’s arms.