“Shh!” Callie looked around to be certain that Mariana hadn’t been heard. “Are you addled, mentioning that here? The fact is that I accepted Oxford’s invitation. And now we’re being rather rude.”
“Pshaw. Rivington will entertain him,” Mariana was distracted, standing on her toes, craning to see above the crowds. “You don’t see Juliana, do you?”
Callie froze. “Juliana Fiori?”
Mariana gave Callie an odd look. “Yes, Calpurnia. Juliana Fiori. Which other Juliana would I be looking for?”
“I didn’t know she was going to be here.”
“Mmm,” Mariana said, looking about. “Apparently Ralston offered to bring her. I promised her we wouldn’t see Blake’s Jerusalem without her.”
Callie opened her mouth to speak, uncertain of what to say, only sure that she would have no choice but to leave the exhibition before she ran into Ralston. She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t be in the same room with him. It didn’t matter that half of London would be there as well. Callie began to feel panicked.
“Ah…here are the ladies for whom we’ve been searching.” Callie and Mariana whirled to face Oxford and Rivington. Oxford captured Callie’s gaze and flashed a brilliant smile. “You left us, but we are excellent at tracking our prey.”
“Indeed, it appears so, my lord.” This afternoon was growing more and more odd. She should have remained home. That much was clear.
“Lady Calpurnia, may I escort you to see some of the paintings in the North Gallery?”
“I—” For a fleeting moment, Callie considered refusing before realizing that an afternoon with Oxford would be infinitely less awkward than an afternoon spent avoiding Ralston. “I would enjoy that very much, my lord.”
“Wonderful.” He offered Callie his arm. She took it, and they were off across the main gallery toward the northern exit. As they walked, he said, “We shall have to seek out the Renaissance artists here today, shan’t we?”
She bit her tongue, keeping herself from explaining that, as a contemporary exhibition, there were no Renaissance artists represented at the event. Instead, she smiled mutely and allowed the baron to guide her along. When they arrived at the slightly less crowded North Gallery, Oxford turned a bright smile on her, and, with a broad gesture, said, “What do you think?”
Callie smiled up at the baron, and said, politely, “It is an excellent exhibition this year, my lord. Thank you very much for escorting me.”
He leaned closer. “Come now, Lady Calpurnia. Surely you have more to say than that.” Pointing to a large portrait, he asked, “What of that one?”
Callie considered the painting, a rather forgiving likeness of the king, before saying, “I think that King George must have been very happy with it.”
Oxford laughed. “How very diplomatic of you.”
Callie laughed as well, considering the baron. Certainly, he was a dandy and rather vapid, but he seemed in possession of a good humor and a not-unpleasant countenance. She was surprised to find that she was rather enjoying herself.
Oxford leaned in to speak close to her ear. “I had hoped we would get a chance to be apart from your sister and Rivington.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the words. “My lord?”
“I know,” he said, misunderstanding her reticence. “It’s hard to believe that this is happening.” He ran a single finger discreetly down the length of her forearm, and his smile broadened as he leaned in once more. “But indeed it is happening to you, Lady Calpurnia.”
“Baron Oxford,” she said, quickly, searching for a distraction to save them both from embarrassment. “I thought we were going to seek out the Renaissance paintings? I do not see them here.”
“Perhaps we should look for them in a quieter, more secluded locale?” he said, his voice low. Was that whiskey on his breath?
Callie hedged. “I wonder if they might be back in the main gallery?”
He paused, considering her words. “I understand. You are concerned that we might be observed.”
She clung to the words. “Indeed, that is precisely my concern.”
He flashed his white teeth in understanding. “Of course. Let’s return to the main gallery and have a better look.”
Who would have thought Oxford would be so understanding?
Callie was so surprised by his change in tack that she couldn’t help her own brilliant smile. They made their way back to the main gallery and passed into the throng of people inside. Once in the crush, Callie was unable to keep from pressing up against Oxford, and as she did so, she felt one of his hands running down the back of her gown, dangerously familiar. Leaping away from his touch, Callie turned to him, hand to her throat, and said, “I am quite parched. I wonder if you would fetch me some lemonade while I find my sister?”