He raised one brow. “Indeed?”
Callie’s cheeks flamed as she redirected her gaze to his elaborate cravat, wishing that she were as erudite and alluring as the women with whom he was accustomed to dancing. They, of course, would know exactly how to play his flirtatious game.
“Come now, Lady Calpurnia,” he teased quietly, “to which of the nefarious deeds of my past do you refer?”
She met his eyes again, noting the challenge there. “Oh, any number of them, my lord,” she said lightly, enjoying herself. “Is it true you once leapt from a countess’s balcony quite unfortunately into a holly bush below?”
Ralston’s eyes widened slightly at her quiet question before amusement flashed. “A gentleman would neither confirm nor deny such an occurrence.”
Callie laughed. “On the contrary, my lord. A gentleman would most certainly deny such an occurrence.”
He smiled, a rakish grin, and Callie was thankful for the companionable silence that fell between them, for she was not certain she could find words in the face of his rare smile. She lost herself in the dance, in the sound of the music, in the sway of their bodies. If this was to be her first and only waltz, she wanted to remember every moment. She closed her eyes, allowing Ralston to guide her around the room, and Callie became keenly aware of his gloved hand barely touching her waist, the brush of his long, muscled leg against her own as they swirled across the floor. After several moments, she became disoriented and opened her eyes, uncertain whether the source of her light-headedness was the movement or the man. Meeting Ralston’s blue eyes, she accepted the truth.
It was, of course, the man.
“I was hoping we could talk of Juliana.”
Callie swallowed her disappointment. Despite her visiting with Juliana three times that week, she had not seen Ralston during her visits—a fact that was likely for the best, considering she turned into something of a cabbagehead when he was nearby.
Unaware of her thoughts, he pressed on. “I wonder when you think my sister will be ready to take to the ballrooms of London?”
“I would think no longer than another week. Juliana is a wonderful pupil, my lord. Very eager to please both you and your brother.”
He nodded, satisfied with her answer. “I should like for you to take her shopping. She will need new gowns.”
Callie’s surprise was obvious. “I’m not certain I’m the appropriate companion for dress shopping, my lord.”
“You seem quite appropriate to me.”
She tried another tack. “You should have someone who is at the height of fashion accompany her.”
“I want you.” The words were frank and imperious.
Callie knew she would not win. After a pause, she nodded her agreement. “I shall have to have a look at her current wardrobe, to assess her needs.”
“No. She needs everything. I want her outfitted in entirety. The best and most current of fashions.” His tone did not encourage discussion. “I will not have her out of place.”
“With her only here for two months—”
“You cannot honestly believe that I would allow her return to Italy.”
“I—” Callie noted the firm resolve in his tone. “No, I suppose not. But, my lord,” she said delicately, uncertain of how to point out the expense of such an extravagant request.
“Money is of no import. She is to have the best.”
“Very well.” She acquiesced quietly, deciding that she’d much rather dance than argue the point.
He allowed her a few moments of silent movement before saying, “I would also like to discuss the necessary requirements to secure entrance to Almack’s for her.”
Callie’s eyes widened at his words. She replied, choosing her response carefully. “Almack’s may not be the best place to enter Juliana into society, my lord.”
“Whyever not? Acceptance there makes for a much easier entrée into the rest of the ton, does it not?”
“Certainly,” Callie agreed. “However, the Lady Patronesses do not give vouchers freely. There are considerable hoops through which one must jump.”
Ralston’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you do not believe that Juliana will receive a voucher?”
Callie paused, thinking before she said, “I believe the ladies of Almack’s will find your sister impeccably mannered—”
“Ah, but impeccable manners are not enough, are they, Lady Calpurnia?”
She met his eyes directly. “No, my lord.”
“Is it me? Or my mother?”
“This is really not the place to discuss—”
“Nonsense. This is society. Aren’t all matters of import discussed in ballrooms?” His tone was laced with heavy sarcasm. If she were not so keenly aware of his frustration with the situation, she would have been offended by his flippancy.
He looked away from her, over her head, his eyes unseeing. She paused, judging his response before speaking carefully. “If she were titled…or if she weren’t living at Ralston House…” She changed tack. “It might be easier to garner acceptance for Juliana if we avoid Almack’s altogether.”
He fell silent, but she could sense the change in him. The arms that held her were stiff with corded tension. After several moments, he met her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Neither do I.” And she didn’t.
He paused, as if he could read her thoughts. “Will this work?”
“I shall do my best.” The truth.