Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake (41 page)

Ralston considered the statement. The old Ralston might have scoffed at the words—so pedestrian and fantastic and terrifying—instead, he felt warmth spread through him at the idea that he might love Callie. And that she might love him back. Perhaps he had, indeed, “gone and fallen in love.”

Nick continued, unable to keep the smug smile from his lips. “Shall I tell you what I would do if I discovered I’d been a royal ass and had lost the only woman I’d ever really wanted?”

Ralston’s eyes narrowed on his brother. “I don’t imagine I could stop you.”

“Indeed not,” Nick said. “I can tell you I wouldn’t be standing in this godforsaken field in this godforsaken cold waiting for that idiot Oxford to shoot at me. I would walk away from this ridiculous, antiquated exercise, and I would find that woman and tell her that I was a royal ass. And then I would do whatever it takes to convince her that she should take a chance on me despite my being a royal ass. And once that’s done, I would get her, immediately, to the nearest vicar and get the girl married. And with child.”

A vision flashed of Callie full and rounded with his child, and Ralston closed his eyes against the pleasure of it. “I thought that allowing myself to love her would turn me into Father. I thought she would make me weak. Like him.”

“You’re nothing like Father, Gabriel.”

“I see that now. She made me see it.” He paused, lost in the memory of Callie’s big brown eyes, her wide, smiling mouth. “My God, she’s made me so much more than what I was.”

The statement, filled with surprise and wonder, was punctuated by a shout from across the field as Oxford, Lord Raleigh, his second, and a doctor came into view.

Nick swore under his breath. “I’ll confess, I’d hoped that Oxford was soused enough last night not to remember.”

He took the pistol from Ralston and walked out to meet Raleigh and arrange the rules of the duel. As was customary, Oxford approached Ralston, fear in his eyes, and extended his hand. “For what it’s worth, Ralston, I apologize for what I said about Lady Calpurnia. And, I thought you’d like to know that, while I do not have the two thousand now, I shall find a way to pay the debt.”

Ralston stiffened at the reference to the stupid wager that had caused so much pain and unhappiness. He ignored Oxford’s proffered hand, and instead met the baron’s concerned gaze, and said, “Keep the money. I have her. She’s all I want.”

The truth of the statement was rather overwhelming to Ralston, and he found himself exhausted by the very idea of a duel now that he’d discovered just how much he wanted to be with Callie. Why was he standing in a cold, wet field when he could be sneaking into Allendale House, climbing into her warm, welcome bed, and showering her with apologies until she forgave him and married him immediately?

Nick and Raleigh returned quickly, eager to be done with the events of the morning. As Raleigh informed Oxford of the rules, Nick guided Ralston away from the others to say quietly, “Twenty paces, turn, and fire. And I have it on good authority that Oxford plans to aim wide.”

Ralston nodded, acknowledging that aiming wide would leave both parties with their honor and lives intact. “I shall do the same,” he said, swinging his greatcoat off and trading it for the pistol Nick offered.

“Good.” Nick folded the coat over his arm. “Let’s get this done, shall we? It’s freezing.”

“One…Two…” Ralston and Oxford stood back to back as Raleigh began to count off their paces. As he walked slowly to the rhythmic calling of the numbers, “Five…Six…” Ralston thought of Callie, all bright eyes and warm smiles. “Twelve…Thirteen…” Callie, who was likely fast asleep in her bed at that very moment. “Sixteen…Seventeen…”

He couldn’t wait to be done with Oxford so he could go to her. He would apologize and explain everything and beg her to marry him and…

“Stop! No!”

The shout came from across the field, and he turned toward it, knowing before looking that Callie was there—that she was running toward him. And all he could think was that Oxford was going to aim wide, and if he chose to fire in her direction…

Ralston didn’t pause. He ran.

“Twenty!”

The sound of a single pistol’s report echoed across the field.

And Ralston was falling to his knees, watching Callie’s big brown eyes—eyes he had been thinking of all morning—widen in horror, and her mouth opened and her scream rent the early-morning silence, followed by Nick’s swear and Benedick’s call of “Doctor!” and Oxford’s high, nasal cry of, “I aimed wide!”

And as the bullet ripped through his flesh, Ralston was consumed with a single thought: I never told her that I loved her.

He watched as Callie collapsed to her knees in front of him and began to push his coat back, running her hands across his chest, searching for the wound.

She was alive.

Relief coursed through him, hot and disorienting, and all he could do was watch her, repeating to himself that she was alive and unharmed over and over until the truth of it resonated. The rush of emotions he’d felt in the scant moments before he’d been shot—the fear that he might have lost her, that she might have been hurt—stole his breath.

He hissed in pain as she jostled his arm and she froze, looking up at him with tears in her eyes, saying, “Where are you hurt?”

He swallowed around the knot that formed in his throat at the picture she made, so worried, so pained, so very in love with him. And all he wanted to do was take her in his arms.

But first, he wanted to shake her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he exploded, not caring that her eyes went wide with surprise.

“Gabriel,” Nick interjected softly, using a knife to cut away the sleeve of Ralston’s coat, “have a care.”

“I will not!” Ralston turned back to Callie. “You cannot simply traipse across London whenever you damn well please, Callie.”

“I came to save you—” Callie started, then stopped.

Ralston gave a harsh laugh. “Well, it appears you did an excellent job of getting me shot instead.”

He barely registered Oxford’s arrival and defensive pronouncement of, “I aimed wide!”

“Gabriel.” Nick’s words took on a warning tone as he ripped the sleeve of his brother’s coat from his shirt. Gabriel winced, certain that Nick was taking pleasure in his pain. “Enough.”

“And you!” Ralston turned on Benedick. “What the hell were you thinking? Bringing her here!”

“Ralston, you know as well as I do that she cannot be stopped.”

“You need to get your women under control, Allendale,” Ralston said, turning back to Callie. “When you’re my wife, I’m going to lock you up, I swear before God!”

“Gabriel!” Nick was angry.

Ralston didn’t care. He turned on his brother as the surgeon knelt next to him and inspected the wound. “She could have been killed!”

“And what about you?” This time, it was Callie who spoke, her own pent-up energy releasing in anger, and the men turned as one to look at her, surprised that she had found her voice. “What about you and your idiotic plan to somehow restore my honor by playing with guns out in the middle of nowhere with Oxford?” She said the baron’s name with disdain. “Like children? Of all the ridiculous, unnecessary, thoughtless, male things to do…who even fights duels anymore?!”

“I aimed wide!” Oxford interjected.

“Oh, Oxford, no one cares,” Callie said, before turning back to Ralston, and saying, “You were worried about me? How do you think I felt knowing that I might have arrived and you might have been dead? How do you think I felt when I heard that gunshot? When I saw the man I love fall to the ground? Of all the selfish things you’ve done in your life, Gabriel…and I feel certain that you’ve done rather a lot of selfish things…this one is by far the most arrogant and obnoxious of them all.” She was crying now, either unwilling or unable to stop the tears. “What am I supposed to do if you die?”

The fight went out of him in the face of her tears. He couldn’t bear the thought of her worrying about him. He brushed off the doctor and cupped her face in his palms, ignoring the pain in his arm as he pulled her to him and spoke firmly. “I’m not going to die, Callie. It’s just a flesh wound.”

His words, a repeat of those she’d said to him all those weeks ago in the fencing club, elicited a watery smile. “What would you know about flesh wounds?” she asked.

He smiled. “There’s my empress.” He kissed her softly, oblivious to their audience, before he added, “We shall simply have matching scars.” She grew teary again, eyeing his wound skeptically before he repeated, “I’m not going to die, lovely. Not for a very long time.”

Callie raised a brow in a gesture she’d learned from him. “I’m not certain I believe that, Gabriel. It appears you’re not a very good shot.”

Ralston turned a narrow gaze on his brother as Nick snickered at Callie’s wry words before turning back to her. “For the record, Calpurnia, I’m an excellent shot when not worried that you might find yourself in the way of a bullet.”

“Why were you worried about me? You were the one in the duel!”

The surgeon probed at his wound, sending a bolt of pain down his arm. “My lord,” the surgeon said as Ralston hissed in pain, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to remove the bullet. It won’t be comfortable.”

Ralston nodded to the doctor, who was removing a collection of rather wicked-looking instruments from his bag in preparation for the procedure.

Callie gave a nervous look at the tools, and said, “Are you sure you want to do this here, Doctor? Perhaps we should go somewhere less…rustic?”

“Here is as good a place as any, my lady,” the doctor responded amiably. “It isn’t the first bullet I’ve removed in this particular field, and I feel certain it won’t be the last.”

“I see,” she said, her tone making it clear that she did not, in fact, see.

With his free hand, Ralston took hold of one of hers. When he spoke, it was with an urgency she’d never heard from him. “Callie—the wager.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care about the stupid wager, Gabriel.”

“Nevertheless,” he winced as the doctor prodded at the wound. “I was an idiot.”

She eyed the doctor’s movements skeptically before agreeing. “You were, indeed. But I was something of an idiot as well—for believing the worst. And then Benedick told me you were here…and I was so very worried that you might be shot. And then I went and got you shot.”

“Better than getting you shot—which would have caused me a great deal of heartache. You see, Empress, it appears that I have fallen quite thoroughly in love with you.”

She blinked twice, her eyes wide, as though she hadn’t entirely understood his words. “I beg your pardon?” she whispered.

“I love you. I love your extravagant name and your beautiful face and your brilliant mind and your ridiculous list and your taste for adventure, which I imagine is very likely going to be the actual cause of my death. And I very much wanted to be able to tell you all that before you were shot in a field.”

The men around them turned away in unison, embarrassed and eager to escape the exceedingly private moment that was taking place despite both their presence and the garish wound in Ralston’s arm.

Callie didn’t care that they had witnessed it. She only cared that she had heard it correctly. Refusing to take her eyes from Ralston’s, she said, “I—You—Are you certain?”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “Quite. I love you. And I am rather ready to get on with a lifetime of doing so.”

“Really?” She was smiling like a little girl told she could have an extra pudding after dinner.

“Indeed. There is one thing, however.”

“Anything.” She didn’t care what he wanted as long as he was in love with her.

“Nick!” He called, adding, when his brother turned back, “Would you mind very much finding my pistol? Callie needs it.”

Callie laughed roundly, understanding his motives instantly, and the noise carried across the field and drew the attention of the other men. “Gabriel, no!”

“Oh, yes, my little hellion,” he said, humor and love in his tone. “I want this list done with. It is a danger to your reputation and to my person, evidently. And, since you’ve just this morning crossed off Attending a duel, I feel confident that we might as well kill two birds with one proverbial stone and give you a chance to fire a pistol, don’t you?”

Callie held his gaze for a long moment, reading his thoughts, before she broke into a wide smile, and said, “All right. I shall do it. But only to please you.”

His laughter carried across the field even as he grimaced at the pain in his arm. “How very magnanimous of you.”

“Of course, you realize what will happen when this item is complete?”

Ralston’s gaze narrowed. “What will happen?”

“I shall have to begin a new list.”

He groaned. “No, Callie. Your time for lists is over. It’s a miracle I survived this one.”

“My new list only has one item.”

“That sounds like a very dangerous list.”

“Oh, it is,” she agreed happily. “It’s very dangerous. Particularly to your reputation.”

Now he was curious. “What is the item?”

“To reform a rake.”

He paused, the meaning of her words sinking in before he pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly. When he pulled away, he set his forehead to hers, and whispered, “Done.”