Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake (Love By Numbers #1)(17)

“You speak as though I brought you here, my lady. On the contrary. ’Tis you who entered my domain. Don’t you think you owe me the courtesy of an introduction?” His reply was quiet, spoken just at the edge of her hood, sending a shiver of panic through her. His body was scant inches away from hers—any closer, and they would be touching. They might as well have been for the way the heat of him was overwhelming her senses. Callie stared at the doorjamb, wondering just how she was going to escape her fate.

She had started this evening as Calpurnia. She couldn’t give up now. “We’ve—” She cleared her throat and started again. “We’ve met before, my lord.”

“I cannot be expected to know that with you shrouded in cloth.” He tweaked the edge of her sleeve, his fingertips carelessly brushing the back of her hand. She sucked in a breath at the touch. His tone turned cajoling. “Come now, do you really think that I will allow you to leave without learning your identity? You have come too far now.”

He was right, of course, and Callie was nothing if not pragmatic. Taking a deep breath, she let go of the handle and began to turn toward him. He took a step back, letting go of the door as she lowered her hood, revealing herself. He tilted his head just slightly at the sight of her, as though trying to place her. After a brief moment, recognition dawned, and he stepped back again, unable to keep the surprised confusion from his face and his voice. “Lady Calpurnia?”

“The very same.” She closed her eyes, cheeks burning, feeling sick with regret. She would never leave the house again.

His breath expelled on a humorless half laugh. “I confess, had I been given a thousand guesses, I would never have imagined that you would be my midnight visitor. Are you quite well?”

“I assure you that, contrary to how it might appear, I am not at all mad, my lord. At least, I don’t believe I am.”

“Forgive me for asking, then, but, what on earth are you doing here?” He seemed all at once to realize where they were. “This is not at all the appropriate place for a lady. I recommend we remove this conversation to a more…acceptable…location.” He waved an arm to indicate the room at large before making a move to reach around her to open the door.

Not interested in dragging out this disastrous meeting any longer, Callie stepped to the side, avoiding his arm and putting more distance between them as she spoke. “Nonsense, my lord. I do not think it necessary to continue this conversation at all. I found myself here at Ralston House under rather…peculiar…circumstances, and I think it would be best for us to forget this ever happened. It shouldn’t be so difficult, I should think.” She pasted a bright smile on her face and fiddled with a tassel on her cloak.

Ralston took in her words, allowing a silence to fall around them. In the long moments of quiet, Callie looked anywhere but at him, and he took note of her nervousness. It wasn’t long before his surprise and confusion turned to intrigue, and he assumed a less threatening pose, casually leaning against the wall by the door. “I am not so certain of that, my lady. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not so easily forget women who visit me in my bedchamber.” Heat flared high on her cheeks again as he continued, “What brings Lady Calpurnia Hartwell to my doorstep in the middle of the night? Frankly, you do not seem the type.”

Callie scrambled for a response. “I was…nearby.”

“In the middle of the night.”

“Yes. I found myself…outside…and…in need of transport home.”

“Outside of my home.” The words were dry with his obvious disbelief.

“Indeed.” Perhaps if she held her own, he would not press her for further explanation.

“How did you come to be outside my home in need of transport?” The sound of his casual curiosity set her on edge.

“I would prefer not to discuss it,” she said, averting her eyes and willing him to leave that particular subject alone. Silence descended and, for a brief moment, she thought he was satisfied by her evasive response.

She was wrong.

He crossed his arms arrogantly as he let amused disbelief seep into his words. “And so, you naturally decided that knocking on my door was a safer course of action than hailing the nearest hackney.”

In for a shilling, in for a pound. “Indeed, my lord. You are a peer of the realm, after all.”

He snorted. She snapped an indignant gaze to meet his mocking one, and blurted out, “You do not believe me?”

“Not a word of it.” He leveled her with a piercing, blue look. “Why not tell me the truth this time?”

She dropped her eyes to the floor once more, desperate for another fib to tell, something, anything that would get her out of this situation.

He seemed to read her mind. “Lady Calpurnia.”

“I’d rather you call me Callie,” she said hurriedly.

“You don’t like Calpurnia?” The words were lazily curious.

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Callie…” He coaxed, the words spoken in a deep, liquid tone that she was certain he used whenever he wanted something from a woman. She would not be surprised to discover that it always worked. “Why are you here?”

And then, whether from courage or cowardice or too much sherry she would never know, she decided to answer him. After all, the evening couldn’t possibly become any worse.