And the prospect of returning to a life without her was dismal, indeed.
He had been walking for several hours, having passed Ralston House multiple times as he roamed the darkened city, mind racing. His greatcoat was soaked through when he finally looked up, only to find himself outside Allendale House. The house was dark, save for a light in a lower-level room facing the side gardens, and Ralston stood for a long moment considering that golden glow.
The decision was made.
He knocked on the door and, when the aging butler, whom he’d terrorized previously, opened the door, eyes wide with recognition, Ralston had one thing to say. “I am here to see your master.”
The butler seemed to sense the importance of the matter because he did not argue the lateness of the hour or speculate that, perhaps, the Earl of Allendale might not be in. Instead, he indicated that Ralston should wait and shuffled off to announce the visitor.
In less than a minute, he was back, taking Ralston’s sopping coat and hat and indicating that he should see his way into the earl’s study. Ralston entered the large, well-lit room and closed the door behind him to find Benedick leaning on the edge of a large oak desk, eyeglasses on the tip of his nose, reading from a sheaf of papers. He looked up when the latch clicked. “Ralston,” he acknowledged.
Ralston dipped his head. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Benedick cocked a smile, setting the papers down on his desk. “I was having a rather boring evening, frankly. You are a welcome distraction.”
“I’m not sure you’ll think so after you hear what I’ve come to say.”
One of the earl’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, then, I think you should out with it, then, don’t you?”
“I’ve compromised your sister.”
At first, there was no indication that Benedick heard Ralston’s confession. He did not move, or take his gaze from his visitor. And then he came to his full height and slowly removed his glasses, setting them on top of the papers he’d discarded before walking toward Ralston.
Standing in front of Ralston, Benedick said, “I assume we are talking about Callie?”
Ralston’s gaze did not waver. “Yes.”
“I don’t suppose that you are overstating the situation?”
“No. I’ve compromised her. Quite thoroughly.”
Benedick nodded thoughtfully, then punched him.
Ralston didn’t see the blow coming; he reeled backward, pain exploding in his cheek. When he straightened, Benedick was shaking off the residual sting in his hand calmly. He said, apologetically, “I had to do it.”
Ralston nodded calmly, testing the tender skin around his eye. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”
Benedick moved to a low table nearby and poured two tumblers of scotch. Offering one to Ralston, he said, “I suppose you had better explain yourself.”
Accepting the glass, Ralston said, “It’s quite simple, actually. I’ve compromised your sister, and I should like to marry her.”
Benedick sat down in a large leather chair and watched Ralston carefully for a moment. “If it is so simple, why did you arrive at my home sopping wet in the middle of the night?”
Taking the chair across from the earl, Ralston said, “Well, I suppose it is simple to me.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “Callie has refused you.”
“Your sister is infuriating.”
“She does have a tendency to be so.”
“She won’t marry me. So I am here to enlist your help.”
“Of course she will marry you,” Benedick said, and a wave of relief coursed through Ralston—far more powerful than he would have liked to admit. “But I shan’t force her. You’re going to have to convince her.”
The relief was short-lived. “I’ve tried. She won’t hear reason.”
Benedick laughed at the surprise and frustration in Ralston’s voice. “Spoken like someone who did not grow up with sisters. They never hear reason.”
Ralston gave a small smile. “Yes, I’m beginning to see that.”
“Has she told you why she won’t marry you?”
Ralston took a long pull of scotch and considered his reply. “She says she loves me.”
Benedick’s eyes widened before he said, “That seems like a reason to marry someone.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He leaned forward in his chair. “How do I convince her of that?”
Benedick leaned back in his chair, met Ralston’s scowl and took pity on him. “Callie is a hopeless romantic. She has been since she was a little girl. It’s the natural result of our being the products of a complete and utter love match, her reading every romantic novel she could get her hands on over the last twenty years, and my own encouragement of her resistance to the institution of the loveless marriage. I’m not surprised she won’t marry you without the promise of love. So, it raises the question: Do you love her?”