“Come, Callum!” his mother said brightly. “Let us proceed to the dining room. And perhaps you might escort us all downstairs?” She raised a brow, making a gesture including Lady Millicent. Callum scowled. Miss Rothwell and her sisters were already leaving the room.
“I must query after the health of Miss Rothwell first,” he said carefully. His mother glared at him, but she could not very well argue with that—it was the most basic of polite gestures.
He went swiftly across the room and bowed low to Miss Rothwell and her two sisters.
“Miss Rothwell,” he addressed the eldest Miss Rothwell directly. “Might I inquire as to your health?”
“I feel indisposed, Your Grace,” she said softly. She looked away shyly and he frowned. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.Perhaps my strange behaviour in the field when she was freezing cold had offended her,he thought. His intention to kiss her might have been altogether too obvious.
“That is disheartening news,” he said carefully.
“We are going to take Rosalyn back to her chamber,” Miss Georgina informed him briskly. “She is tired.”
“I regret that I will not attend dinner tonight,” Miss Rothwell said quietly.
“But you will all attend the charades?” he asked swiftly.
“We will!” Georgina spoke up excitedly.
“Will you?” The younger sister asked, turning to Miss Rothwell.
“I will try,” Miss Rothwell promised.
The delight on the faces of the two younger sisters echoed in Callum’s heart. He grinned at her and saw a confused expression cross her face.
“Only if you feel well, of course, Miss Rothwell,” he demurred quickly.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said softly.
Callum bowed low and stood back for the ladies to go out into the hallway. Then he returned to his mother and Lord and Lady Bronham, who were waiting expectantly with Lady Millicent.
“Allow me to escort you to dinner,” he said, bowing in a way that included all of them.
“How gallant,” Lady Bronham said, sounding very pleased.
Callum tried to smile and stood back to let the ladies proceed into the hallway ahead of him.
Dinner felt as though it took an age, each course seeming to stretch for hours. The dessert arrived—a delicious syllabub—and then cheese and biscuits and fruit. Callum felt restless with impatience. He went upstairs as fast as he could to the drawing room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” his mother began. “I invite you to form groups. We will work in partners to form our charades. Paper and pencils are to be found there, should anyone have a need of them.” She gestured to the big table in the corner.
Callum barely listened. His gaze moved over the excited party guests, scanning the group for Miss Rothwell. He spotted bright hair and a blue dress over in the corner near the window. His heart leapt. She saw him and held his gaze. He smiled shyly. He thought for a heart-stopping second that she was going to ignore him, but then, as he approached her, she curtseyed. He bowed as low as he would at court.
“Miss Rothwell,” he said softly. “If I may, would you do me the honour of assisting me in this evening’s endeavour?”
She inclined her head. “I would be most pleased to assist you, Your Grace. We shall make a fine team.”
“Good,” he said brightly.
They stood and looked at one another. Callum stepped awkwardly from foot to foot. He could think of nothing to say. His mind was utterly blank, filled only with how delighted he was to see her. He had missed her, though she had only been absent from the festivities for a day. Nothing else entered his mind and he coughed and looked down shyly.
“One of us ought to fetch pencils and paper,” Miss Rothwell suggested. Her voice broke the awkward silence.
“I shall,” Callum said, bowing low. As he swiftly crossed the room, he spotted James and Philippa standing by the fire. James gave him a hard look. Callum glared back, no longer caring about whether he was rude or not.
Callum retrieved a pencil and paper and hurried back to the window. Miss Rothwell was still there.
“Miss Rothwell,” he said, clearing his throat. As he spoke, she began.
