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.”

Epilogue

Callie attempted to appear casual as she escaped the stifling ballroom of Worthington House and made her way down the wide stone steps into the darkened gardens below. She felt a jolt of excitement as she passed into the shadows of the hedge maze beyond. The darkness, combined with the heavy warmth of the summer evening and the sweet, heady scent of lavender from the blooming bushes beyond heightened her senses as she navigated the twists and turns of the maze.

After the duel, word had spread far and fast that Lady Calpurnia Hartwell and the Marquess of Ralston had been spied in a scandalous embrace, in public no less. If that were not enough, the gossipmongers added, the location of said embrace had been, moments earlier, the location of a duel.

She came upon a wide clearing, at the center of which stood a great marble fountain gleaming in the moonlight. She stopped just inside the clearing, still so familiar after so many years. Her heart began to race as she approached the fountain, reaching out one hand to run her fingers through the cool water that bubbled down the bodies of the cherubic statutes.

As she did, strong arms captured her from behind, pulling her flush against a broad, firm chest. She couldn’t keep the smile from her lips as Ralston whispered wickedly into her ear, “I wasn’t at all certain what to expect when a footman delivered a scandalous invitation to a clandestine meeting.” He set his lips hotly to the nape of her neck, licking the skin there and sending a chill down her spine, welcome in the warm night. “You are a serious risk to my reputation, Lady Ralston.”

She sighed at the caress, before replying, “You forget, my lord, that I learned everything I know from you.” She turned in his arms, running her fingers through his hair as she met his smiling eyes. “You have turned me into quite the libertine.”

Yes, both their reputations had taken hits.

Not that either of them cared one way or another.

They had been married in less than a fortnight. Between Oxford’s help in denouncing the rumors about wagers and duels and his own courtship of Callie and the fact that Ralston was obviously thoroughly smitten with his new bride, it was difficult for anyone to speculate that the hasty marriage was anything short of a love match—and the ton seemed more than willing to forgive both the marquess and his new marchioness for their perceived infractions.