Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean Page A

Noting the paper in her maid’s hand, she cried out, “No! Give it back!”
    “Callie! What have you done?”
    “Nothing!” She snatched the paper back, then paused, taking in Anne’s look of disbelief. “Well, nothing really.”
    “That paper doesn’t appear to be nothing.”
    “I would prefer not to discuss it.”
    “I’m sure you would.”
    “It’s nothing. It’s just a list.”
    “A scandalous list. Of things that young unmarried females do not do.”
    Callie turned back to the wardrobe, shoving her head deep into the piece of furniture in the hopes of ending the conversation. When she pulled a peach day dress out and turned back, Anne was still waiting for a response. With a sigh, she muttered, “Well, perhaps young unmarried females should take advantage of their youthful and unshackled state and try some of those things.”
    Anne blinked at the frank words. And then she laughed. “You completed one of these items already.”
    “I did.” Callie blushed.
    Anne squinted at the paper, making out the obscured words. When she looked up in shock, Callie turned away. “Well, Calpurnia Hartwell. You didn’t waste any time taking what you’ve wanted for years.”
    Callie couldn’t help the little smile that played across her lips.
    “You were with Ralston last night!”
    Callie’s flaming cheeks spoke volumes.
    “I shall tell you one thing,” Anne said, a hint pride in her voice. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever known to make a list like that and actually follow through on it.” Her tone shifted, “Of course, if you’re not ruined in a week, I shall be even more surprised than I am now.”
    “I have plans to be very careful,” Callie protested.
    Anne shook her head. “Unless you work for the War Office, Callie-mine, you can’t do half of the things on that list without your reputation collapsing into the gutter.” She paused. “You do know that, don’t you?”
    Callie gave a little nod. “Is it wrong that I don’t much care this morning?”
    “Yes. You cannot do it all, Callie. Gamble? At a men’s club? Are you mad?”
    Callie grew serious. “No.” The two fell silent for a long moment. Finally, Callie seemed to find the words she was looking for. “But, Anne, it was so wonderful. It was the most incredible, freeing adventure. Can you blame me for wanting more?”
    “It appears that you are already getting more than you’ve bargained for. Give me that.” Anne took the peach muslin from Callie and exchanged it for a grass green jaconet day dress.
    “What was wrong with the one I chose?”
    “Oh, stop pouting. If we are going to Ralston House, this is the gown you’ll wear. You look lovely in green.”
    Callie accepted the dress, watching as Anne rummaged for underclothes. “We are not going to Ralston House.”
    Anne said nothing, still engrossed by the contents of the wardrobe. Instead, she thrust the missive toward Callie. Ignoring her shaking hands, Callie broke the wax seal, at once desperately curious and filled with dread.

Lady Calpurnia,
    My sister will expect you at half eleven.
    R.
    There was no turning back now.
    “Anne,” Callie said, unable to pull her gaze from the text, “we are going to Ralston House.”
    The day after her first visit, Callie found herself on the steps of Ralston House again—this time, quite respectably, by light of day, lady’s maid in tow—to meet Miss Juliana Fiori, the mysterious younger sister of the marquess.
    Callie took a deep breath, sending a silent prayer to the fates that Ralston be away from the house in the hopes that she could avoid the inevitable abject mortification. Of course, she knew that she could not avoid future interactions…she had, after all, agreed to shepherd his sister into society. She could at least hope that she would be able to avoid him today, however.
    A footman opened the door, revealing a stone-faced Jenkins in the foyer beyond. Please, don’t recognize me, she pleaded silently as she looked up