“It’s a horrid-looking thing, isn’t it?”
Callie looked back at him, giving his cheek a frank perusal. “Not at all. Indeed, it is a surprise, but I have heard many women say they think you all the more handsome because of it.”
He made a show of grimacing at the words. “They romanticize it. I am no pirate to be reformed.”
“No? That is a pity. I heard that you spent half a decade sailing the Mediterranean, plundering ships and abducting innocents.”
“The truth is much less exciting.”
She feigned a look of horror. “Don’t tell me. I prefer my version.”
They laughed together, and Callie wondered at the fact that she could be so at ease with Nicholas St. John when his mirror image held such power over her emotions.
It had been just over a week since she had seen Ralston last—since he had smuggled her out of his fencing club and into his carriage to return her to Allendale House. She had been to Ralston House several times in the eight days, both to oversee Juliana’s lessons and with Mariana to take tea with the young woman, and, each time, she had hoped to have an excuse to see Ralston; hoped that he might seek her out. For, certainly, with a houseful of servants and such an openly social sister, he must have known when Callie was in the building.
Twice, she had considered excusing herself to hunt him down and talk with him; she’d divined dozens of ways to force an interaction between them, from accidental entry to his study to fabricated reasons why she might need to discuss his sister. Unfortunately, Juliana’s entry into society looked to be going quite smoothly—she would be ready for her first ball in a week’s time—and Callie hadn’t been able to get up the nerve to enter Ralston’s study.
Ironic, that, considering that the first time she’d entered Ralston House, she’d brazenly entered Ralston’s bedchamber. But that had been different. That had been about the list. This was about something altogether different.
She’d considered using the list to gain access to Ralston—after all, she had promised not to attempt another item without his chaperone, and she was rather chomping at the bit to try something else. But, frankly, she felt rather pathetic whenever she thought of using it to see him. It made her feel like something of a lapdog—eagerly chasing after its master. No. The truth was that she didn’t want to have to seek him out. She wanted their interlude in the fencing club—which had changed everything for her—well, she wanted it to change something for him.
She wanted him to come to her. Was that too much to ask?
“Well…isn’t this a cozy portrait.”
The music halted as the dry words shot across the ballroom, and Callie caught her breath as the object of her reverie cast a bored look at her.
My God. I conjured him up.
She shook her head at the silly thought and moved instantly to separate herself from Nick, only to discover that he would not let her leave his embrace. When she looked to him in confusion, he winked at her and leaned entirely too close to whisper, “Don’t show your hand. We were only dancing.”
Her eyes widened as Nick released her slowly, bending into a deep, somewhat overdone bow and making a show of kissing her hand. Callie’s eyes darted to Ralston, leaning casually in the entry to the ballroom, watching them with an entirely unreadable look. She felt immediately uncomfortable—and indignation flared. Nick was right, of course. They had only been dancing. So why did she feel as though she were an errant child caught doing something naughty?
“My lord Ralston!” Latuffe exclaimed, hurrying across the room toward the marquess. “It is an honor to have you grace us with your presence at Miss Juliana’s lessons!”
“Indeed.” The word rolled off Ralston’s tongue lazily, his gaze not straying from Nick and Callie.
“Indeed! Indeed! Oui!” The dance master repeated eagerly, following the marquess’s gaze. “Lord Nicholas and Lady Calpurnia have been a great help in adding levity to these challenging lessons.”
“Is that what they were doing? Adding…levity?” Ralston’s dry tone struck true. Callie sucked in a breath, feeling Nick stiffen next to her.
“Oh yes!” the dance master said. “You see, your sister is not the most malleable student, and they…”
“Is that a criticism?” Juliana interrupted pertly from her place across the room, causing Callie to turn in surprise at the younger woman’s brashness, at which point Juliana added, “Well, would you like to be called malleable?”