And... as long as they need me, it's easier to forget that I am alone.
Sarah MacLeanHe raked his fingers through his hair. "She doesn't need me."
Ralston smirked. "You are laboring under that mistaken impression that it is their job to need us. In my experience it is almost always the other way around.
My lord?”
Nick turned at the tentative, feminine voice, to find two young women standing nearby, watching him eagerly. Nick spoke, wary.
“Yes? ”
“We—” one of them began to speak, then stopped, uncertain. The other nudged her toward him.
“Yes?”
“We are fans.”
Nick blinked. “Of?”
“Of yours.”
“Of mine.”
“Indeed!” The second girl smiled broadly and stepped closer, holding out what looked suspiciously like—
Nick swore under his breath.
“Would you be willing to autograph our magazine? ”
Nick held up a hand. “I would, girls, but you’ve got the wrong brother.” He pointed to Gabriel. “That is Lord Nicholas.”
Rock snorted as the two shifted their attention to the Marquess of Ralston, a dazzlingly handsome copy of their prey, and tittered their excitement.
Gabriel instantly eased into his role, turning a brilliant smile on the girls. “I would be happy to autograph your magazine.” He took the journal and the pen they proffered and said, “You know, I must confess, this is the first time I’ve ever drawn the attention of ladies when in the company of my brother. Ralston has always been considered the more handsome of us.”
“No!” the girls protested.
Nick rolled his eyes.
“Indeed. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you it’s the marquess who is the best specimen. Surely you’ve heard that.” He looked up at them with a winning smile. "You can admit it, girls. My feelings shan’t be hurt."
Gabriel held up the magazine, displaying the cover, which boasted: Inside! London’s Lords to Land! “Yes … there’s no question that this is going to do wonders for my reputation. I’m so happy to see that it’s getting around that I’m on the hunt for a wife!”
The girls nearly expired from delight.
Benedick looked to the ceiling as though begging for divine patience. Or for the Lord to strike his sister down. Callie couldn’t quite discern which.
Sarah MacLeanIf I am an empress, he is the only man worthy of being my emperor.
Sarah MacLeanIt didn’t matter the quality of the writing— Callie’s fantasies about her fictional heroes were entirely democratic.
Sarah MacLeanWhy now? Why not wait for a man to come along and…sweep you off your feet?”
She gave a short laugh. “If the man you speak of had ever planned on coming, my lord, I’m afraid he has obviously lost his way. And, at twenty-eight, I find I have grown tired of waiting.
I forbid you from frequenting taverns, public houses, or other establishments of vice.”
She snorted in amusement. “Establishments of vice? That’s a rather puritanical view of things, isn’t it? I assure you, I was quite safe.”
“You were with Ralston!” he said, as though she were simpleminded.
“He was perfectly respectable,” she said, the words coming out before she remembered that the carriage ride home was anything but respectable.
“Imagine—my sister and the Marquess of Ralston together. And he turns out to be the respectable one,” Benedick said wryly, sending heat flaring on Callie’s cheeks, but not for the reason he thought. “No more taverns.
Before I merely daydreamed about Ralston. Now I find myself actually with him. Actually talking to him. Actually discovering the real Ralston. He is no longer a creature I invented. He is flesh and blood and…now I can’t help wondering…” She trailed off, unwilling to say what she was thinking. What if he were mine?
She did not have to say the words aloud; Anne heard them anyway. When Callie opened her eyes and met Anne’s gaze in the looking glass, she saw Anne’s response there. Ralston is not for you, Callie.
“I know, Anne,” Callie said quietly, as much to remind herself as to reassure her friend.
do not like this taste for adventure you have developed, sister.”
“I am afraid I cannot guarantee I shall be rid of it anytime soon.
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