He had to stop. He was about to do exactly what he had resolved not to do. Had he not promised himself that he would not compromise her again? He owed her more. Better.
A vision flashed in his mind of Callie naked, spread before him in a pool of sunlight, and he pushed it aside. This was no time to indulge in fantasies that would further arouse him—as it was, his excitement was embarrassingly obvious in his breeches. Reaching up, he unwound Callie’s arms from around his neck, kissing the knuckles on both hands before meeting her gaze once more.
“I owe you an apology.”
Her brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
He set a soft kiss to her forehead, smoothing the lines there, pulling her tightly into his arms before continuing. “An apology. For everything. For the afternoon at Ralston House, for the fencing club, God, Callie, for this afternoon, even. I have treated you quite abominably, nearly compromising you at every turn. And—I should apologize.”
Callie blinked up at him, the sunlight pooling around her, turning her flushed skin the perfect shade of pink. When she did not speak, he said, “I should like to make it all up to you. I think taking you to Brooks’s would be a start.”
A shadow crossed Callie’s face fleetingly—as though she were disappointed—and then it was gone.
Ralston pressed on. “I shall take you tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Unless you have plans to spend the evening with Oxford as well?” he said, coolly.
“No…I was to attend the Cavendish Ball, however. I shall have to beg off.” She avoided his gaze.
“That would be ideal. If we go while the ball is in full cry, it will make the whole procedure much easier.”
“What shall I wear?” she asked quietly.
A memory flashed of Callie dressed in men’s clothing, wearing only tight-fitting fencing breeches, her breasts unbound and pressed against him, her skin flushed with pleasure. Feeling his own breeches tighten, he shifted uncomfortably before saying, “I suppose you’re going to have to dress in men’s clothing. Do you have something appropriate for a club? Or will you be wearing your fencing suit?”
She blushed at his teasing before shaking her head. “No. I have something more appropriate.”
Of course she did. He refrained from asking her when she’d had cause to wear something more appropriate. This was a terrible idea.
Nonetheless, he’d given her his word. It was better that he escort her than someone else. Better him than Oxford. The thought of her clambering about in men’s clothing with Oxford was enough to make him want to put his fist into the baron’s face.
Eager to be rid of the vision of Callie and Oxford, Ralston moved to the edge of the screen, where he darted a quick glance into the room beyond to ensure they would not be seen returning from their hiding place. When he was certain they would remain unnoticed, he deftly guided her around the screen and into the main room, his pace indicating that she should attempt to appear casual as they walked through toward the main gallery. “Shall I meet you at Allendale House at half twelve?” he said, looking away from her but keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear.
She nodded. “That is an ideal time. Late enough that everyone will be at the ball, early enough not to run into them coming home.” She looked up in surprise. “You’re rather good at this.”
He dipped his head as though accepting a compliment. “This isn’t the first time I’ve planned a clandestine outing.”
Her gaze skidded away. “No, I don’t imagine it would be,” she said quietly before she stopped in front of a large painting of a King Charles spaniel. She took a deep breath and continued, “The back entrance.”
He gave a hint of a nod. “I made peace with Juliana.” He did not know why he felt that he had to tell her, but he did.
Surprise flashed across her face, there and gone so quickly, he wasn’t entirely certain it had been there at all. “I am happy to hear it. She is a good girl. And I believe she is coming to care for you deeply.”
The words made him uncomfortable though he could not understand why.
Callie seemed to notice. “I am happy to hear it,” she repeated.
He nodded once. “What do you think of this?” he asked, indicating the painting nearby.
She gave him an odd look. “I think it’s an enormous painting of a dog.”
He made a show of considering the picture and nodded seriously. “An astute observation.” She gave a short laugh before he continued. “The visual arts have never been my specialty. I prefer to consider myself a connoisseur of music. As you know.” The last words were spoken softly near her ear. They were meant to fluster her, to remind her of the evening in his bedchamber…of their first kiss. The strategy worked, and Ralston couldn’t help the pleasure that shot through him at the sound of her breath catching.