Page 41 of The Wedding Challenge

“Nay, I do believe that you are the first,” she retorted dryly.

“I cannot imagine that. It seems to me that everything about you is designed to do just that.” He looked at her, his steps slowing as he went on, “Your hair. Your eyes. The way your lips curve when you smile, so that all I can think of is touching those lips with mine.”

Callie’s color heightened, her breath coming more rapidly. “Brom…”

He stopped, and so did she, turning toward him. For a moment the very air between them seemed to vibrate with heat and hunger. Then, with an effort of will, Callie turned away.

“I fear you are not helping us—” she told him somewhat shakily, “—in our attempt to appear normal when we rejoin our friends.”

“You are right.” He took a breath and released it in a sigh. He started walking forward again, saying lightly, “So…Lady Calandra…’tis a lovely winter day for a ride, is it not?”

She let out a little laugh and fell into step beside him. So, talking of nothing, they walked back to the others, and by the time they reached their party, outwardly they seemed as always, only a little windblown from their ride.

Inside, however, was an entirely different matter. Inside, Callie did not think she would ever be quite the same.

CHAPTER TEN

THE WOMEN OF THE PARTY were seated upon a blanket on the ground, the men still standing as they waited. Francesca and Lady Daphne, Callie noticed, were seated as far apart as they could get and still remain on the blanket, and there was a faint flush to Francesca’s cheeks, telling Callie that she was not in the best of humors. Miss Swanson and Irene were seated between them, the latter looking determinedly inexpressive and the former seeming blissfully unaware.

“Ah, Lady Calandra! And Bromwell. You naughty children, to have escaped like that,” Lady Daphne said brightly, and pointed a mockingly admonishing finger. “You will set tongues wagging with that sort of behavior.”

“Not unless someone sets out to spread such rumors, Lady Swithington,” Francesca commented sharply, sending the other woman an icy look.

“Well, of course, none of us would remark on such a thing,” Lady Daphne replied, looking wounded. “We all know what it is to be young and lively, do we not?” She smiled archly at the men.

“I think you will find that you need not be concerned about Lady Calandra’s reputation, Lady Swithington,” Irene interjected calmly. “Everyone knows that Callie’s character is above reproach.”

“Of course it is,” Bromwell agreed as he strode over to sit down beside his sister. Callie took a seat next to Francesca.

Francesca turned to her with a smile. “It is an excellent day for a ride. Did you enjoy your run?”

“Oh, yes.” Callie followed Francesca’s welcome change of subject. “Lord Bromwell’s horse is such a lovely creature. He is clearly a superior judge of horseflesh.”

“Yes, he is,” his sister agreed proudly. “Brom has always taken care of such matters for me…and for my dear late husband, as well.”

The conversation predictably veered off into a discussion of horses, and Callie sat back, letting the words flow around her, now and then tossing in a comment. She did not let herself think about what had happened between her and Bromwell earlier. That would come later tonight, when she was back in her room alone and could hug the knowledge to herself, letting the memories wash over her again.

After a cold luncheon, Callie and Francesca went for a walk, accompanied by Archie and Miss Swanson, while the others stayed behind to rest and chat. Later, after a rambling ride through the park, they turned back toward the road to London, pleasantly tired.

“Such a delightful outing,” Lady Daphne declared.

She was joined in her raptures about the day by Miss Swanson, who vowed that it was the most pleasant time she had had in London yet, and Mr. Swanson chimed in with his opinion that it had all been “capital.”

“We must have another outing,” Lady Daphne went on, smiling. “Now, what would be amusing? I know! The perfect thing—Vauxhall Garden.”

Miss Swanson clapped her hands in agreement, and Mr. Swanson and Mr. Tilford both agreed that it sounded excellent. Francesca smiled stiffly and made a vague murmur.

“Tuesday next?” Lady Daphne pressed. “Do say yes, Lady Calandra.”

Callie cast a glance at Francesca, who she suspected had no desire to go anywhere with Lady Daphne, given the tenseness of her posture.

“I am not sure,” Francesca temporized. “I believe that I may have a previous engagement.”

“But Lady Calandra can come, surely,” the other woman countered, looking not in the least displeased by the prospect of Francesca’s absence. “There will be a large party of us, after all. That should be ample chaperonage for these youngsters. Lord and Lady Radbourne will be there, will you not?” She looked appealingly at Irene and Gideon.

Irene glanced from Lady Daphne to Francesca and Callie. “Why, yes, I daresay.”

“There, you see.” Lady Daphne smiled triumphantly.