“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.”