“I’m afraid not. I do have a rather strange question, however, if you wouldn’t mind humoring me.”

“Not at all. I would be happy to oblige.”

She swallowed, shoring up her courage, and attempting to sound as casual as possible, asked, “Are you able to recommend a good tavern in town?”

As questions went, it was neither the most tactful nor the most delicate, but Callie was too eager for his response to attempt anything other than a direct approach.

Ralston was to be credited for not betraying the surprise he must have felt at the query. In fact, with the exception of a quick glance in her direction, he continued navigating the couples blocking their path deftly, without pause.

“I beg your pardon? A tavern?”

“Yes. A public house.” She nodded, offering him a smile, hoping he wouldn’t press her.

“What for?”

She really should have expected his curiosity. Callie grasped for an explanation. “You see…my lord,” she paused, thinking. “My brother…Benedick?” She waited for Ralston’s nod of recognition before continuing. “Well…Benedick is seeking a new haunt…and I thought you might have an answer to his conundrum.”

“I’m sure I could recommend somewhere. I shall discuss it with him.”

“No!”

One eyebrow rose at her vehement response. “No?”

She cleared her throat quickly. “No, my lord.” She paused, seeking inspiration. “You see…my brother…he would not appreciate my discussing taverns with you.”

“As well he shouldn’t.”

“Quite.” She attempted to appear properly chagrined. “So, you see, it might be better for you to name an appropriate location…for a gentleman, of course…and I will make the recommendation quietly. When the appropriate time presents itself.”

She had been so engrossed in weaving her tale that Callie hadn’t noticed that they had stopped their passage. Ralston had guided her into one of the alcoves on the far edge of the ballroom, out of the way of the throngs of guests.

Turning to face her, he said, “You are a terrible liar.”

Callie’s eyes widened. She did not have to feign shock. “My lord?”

“Your fibs. Even if the words had rung true—which they didn’t—you hide your thoughts poorly.”

She opened her mouth to respond, could think of nothing to say, and closed it again.

“As I thought. I don’t know why or for whom you would be seeking a public house, it seems a rather odd request, especially coming from a lady—” She opened her mouth again; he held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “However, I am feeling rather magnanimous this evening…and I am inclined to indulge you.”

She couldn’t help the smile that flashed. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Don’t thank me too quickly.”

Callie’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the words that she had spoken to him just moments ago. “What do you want?”

She expected a number of things from him at that moment—another request relating to Juliana’s lessons, an entrée to Almack’s, a dinner invitation from her mother, from Rivington’s mother, even. She was prepared for those things. At this moment, they seemed an even trade for the name of a tavern where she could continue her adventures.

She was not expecting him to smile. And so, when he did—a wicked, wolfish grin that shook her to her toes—she was completely unprepared. A burst of heat spread through her, and her heart began to pound. She couldn’t stop staring at his white teeth, his wide, soft lips, the single dimple that appeared in one cheek.

He was more handsome than he had ever been.

Ralston took advantage of her unguarded state, closing in on her until her back was pressed against the wall. She noticed belatedly that the small alcove was remarkably quiet, considering the mass of humanity that was just out of sight. He had selected a space that was almost entirely blocked by a massive column and a cluster of large ferns, affording them a measure of privacy.

He did not seem to care that the entire ton was mere inches away.

She grew nervous.

He reached out and ran a finger down the length of her arm, leaving a trail of fire where he touched her. Taking her gloved hand in his, he turned it over, baring her wrist to his gaze. He brushed his thumb over the delicate skin there, sending her pulse racing. Callie’s entire world had been reduced to this single moment, this single caress. She could not tear her eyes from the point where they touched. The warmth of his hand, the even stroke of his thumb, consumed her as it threatened her sanity.

She did not know how long he stood caressing her before he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed his mouth to the bare skin of her wrist. Her eyes closed against the flood of sensation that came with the touch—the softness of his lips, parted just enough to breathe a hot, moist kiss upon her before he scraped his teeth against the sensitive spot. She heard her own gasp and opened her eyes just in time to feel his tongue soothing the skin. He boldly met her gaze as he wreaked havoc on her senses, and she couldn’t help but watch him, knowing that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

With one final kiss, Ralston let go of her hand, holding her gaze as he leaned toward her. When he spoke, his words were more air than sound as they brushed softly over the skin of her temple. “The Dog and Dove.”

At first, she was confused. While she hadn’t been certain of precisely what he would say, she had not been expecting that. And then, from deep within the haze of sensuality that he had created around them, understanding dawned. Her eyes widened. Before she could say anything, he was gone, leaving her to regain her sanity in private.