“Ah. Marriage.”

“She actually said—” She paused, taking a deep breath. “No. I will not give her the pleasure of repeating it.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, Benny. You cannot.” She sipped her sherry. “I vow, had I known that this was how spinsterhood would be, I would have married the first man who proposed to me.”

“The first man who proposed to you was an idiot vicar.”

“You shouldn’t speak ill of the clergy.”

Benedick snorted and took a long pull of scotch.

“Fine. I would have married the second man who proposed. Geoffrey was quite attractive.”

“If you hadn’t turned him down, Callie, Father would have. He was an inveterate gambler and a notorious drunk. He died in a gambling hell, for goodness sake.”

“Ah, but then I would be a widow. No one insults widows.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure that’s true, but if you insist…” Benedick paused. “Do you really wish you were married to one of them?”

Callie drank again, letting the sweet wine linger on her tongue as she considered the question. “No, not to anyone who has ever asked me,” she said. “I wouldn’t like to be chattel to some horrible man who married me only for money or land or to be aligned with the Allendale earldom…but I wouldn’t refuse a love match.”

Benedick chuckled. “Yes, well, a love match is an entirely different thing altogether. They don’t come along every day.”

“No,” she agreed, and the two lapsed into silence. After several long moments of contemplation, Callie said, “No…what I would really like is to be a man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I would! For example, if I told you that you had to spend the next three months suffering unfeeling remarks related to Mari’s wedding, what would you say?”

“I should say, ‘Hang that,’ and avoid the whole thing.”

Callie used her sherry glass to point in his direction. “Exactly! Because you are a man!”

“A man who has succeeded in avoiding a great number of events that would have led to criticism of my unmarried state.”

“Benedick,” Callie said frankly, raising her head, “the only reason you were able to avoid those events is because you’re a man. I, unfortunately, cannot play by the same rules.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because I am a woman. I cannot simply avoid the balls and dinners and teas and dress fittings. Oh, God. Dress fittings. I’m going to have to suffer through all these horrid piteous stares again…while Mariana is in her wedding gown…in a modiste’s shop. Oh, God.” She covered her eyes against the image.

“I still fail to see the reason why you cannot just avoid the horrid events. Fine, you have to be at the ball announcing their engagement. You must attend the wedding. But beg off everything else.”

“I cannot do that!”

“Again, I ask, whyever not?”

“Decent women no more beg off events like that than they take lovers. I have a reputation to worry about!”

Now it was his turn to snort. “What utter nonsense. Calpurnia. You are twenty-eight years old.”

“It’s not very gentlemanly of you to speak of my age. And you know I hate it when you call me Calpurnia.”

“You’ll suffer through. You are twenty-eight years old, unmarried, and have, quite possibly, the most pristine reputation of any member of the ton, no matter their gender or their age. For God’s sake, when was the last time you went anywhere without your lace cap?”

She glared at him. “My reputation is all I have. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Benedick.” She reached down to pour another glass of sherry.

“Indeed, you’re right. It’s all you have now. But you could have more. Why not reach out and take it?”

“Are you encouraging me to tarnish our good name?” Callie asked incredulously, freezing, decanter in one hand, glass in the other. Benedick raised one eyebrow at the tableau. Callie set the bottle down. “You do realize that if I do so, you, as the earl, will likely suffer the repercussions?”

“I’m not suggesting you take a lover, Callie. Nor am I hoping that you’ll cause a scene. I’m simply arguing that you hold yourself to a rather high standard for…well…someone who need not worry so much about a slight mark on her reputation. I assure you, skipping odious wedding-related events will not impact the state of the earldom.”

“While I’m at it, why not drink scotch and smoke a cheroot?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Callie, I feel certain that the house will not crumble around us if you have a drink. Though I’m not certain you would enjoy it.” He let silence stretch out for several minutes before continuing. “What else would you want to do?”

She thought carefully about the answer to that question. What if there were no repercussions? What would she do? “I don’t know. I’ve never allowed myself to think of such things.”

“Well, allow yourself now. What would you do?”

“As much as I could.” The answer came fast, surprising them both, but once the words were spoken, Callie realized the truth in them. “I don’t want to be impeccably mannered. You’re right. Twenty-eight years of perfect behavior is too long.” She laughed as she heard herself say the words.

He joined her. “And, so? What would you do?”

“I would throw away my lace cap.”

“A given, I would hope.” He scoffed at her. “Come now, Calpurnia. You can be more creative than that. No repercussions, and you choose three things you can do in your own home?”

She smiled, cuddling deeper into her chair, warming to the game. “Learn to fence.”

“Now you’ve got it,” he said, encouragingly. “What else?”

“Attend a duel!”

“Why stop there? Use your newfound fencing skills to fight one,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I actually want to hurt anyone.”

“Ah,” he said, all seriousness, “so we have found the line you do not wish to cross.”

“One of them, it seems. But I should enjoy firing a pistol, I think. Just not at another person.”

“Many do enjoy that particular activity,” he allowed. “What else?”

She looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Learn to ride astride.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Really. Sidesaddle seems so…missish.”

He laughed at her disdain.

“I would—” She stopped as another item flashed through her mind. Kiss someone. Well. She certainly couldn’t say that aloud to her brother. “I would do all the things men take for granted. And more,” she said. Then, “I would gamble! In a men’s club!”

“Oh ho! And how would you manage that?”

She thought for a moment. “I suppose I should have to masquerade as a man.”

He shook his head in amusement, “Ah…mother’s Shakespeare fascination finally becomes relevant to our lives.” She giggled as he continued, “I think that’s where I would draw the line. The Earls of Allendale could lose privileges at White’s if you tried that.”