Page 24 of The Wedding Challenge

“I hope you are right,” he replied with more fervor than he normally showed. “I know that I was too severe. I handled the whole thing badly. I wanted only to protect her.”

Francesca shrugged. “I have been told by Dom that that is simply the way brothers are. It is very nice at times. I can tell you that as a sister. I can also tell you that there are moments when a brother’s protectiveness can be excessively annoying. Callie is a levelheaded young woman, you know, nor is she just out of the schoolroom. I am sure that she would not do anything foolish.”

“It was not Callie I did not trust,” Rochford retorted darkly. “It was the man with her.”

Francesca frowned. “Who was it that was so terrible? Callie thought that he was an eligible young gentleman.”

He started to speak, then glanced at her and just as quickly looked away. “I suppose he is. But he does not wish me well, I think.” He shook his head, as though dismissing it all. “It was nothing, really. It was just that when I saw him there with her…Well, I may have spoken too harshly. I can only hope that Callie will not hold it against me forever.”

“I am sure she will not.” Francesca answered almost absently, her mind busy picking over the fact that he had not given her the man’s name.

Why was Sinclair reluctant to reveal the man’s identity? She cast about for someone who was known to be an enemy to Rochford, but, quite frankly, she could not come up with anyone. Rochford was not the sort of man whom anyone wanted to cross. Indeed, people were typically much more interested in currying favor with him than setting him against them. And, actually, he had not said that the man was an enemy, only that he did not think the man wished him well.

All she could think was that, in that typically masculine and very annoying way, Rochford felt that whatever was wrong with the man was something he deemed too indelicate for feminine ears. It was, she thought, easy to see why Callie had become irritated.

“I have a thought,” she offered. “Something that might help you and Callie to…get over this little rough patch.”

“Indeed.” He turned his eyes on her somewhat warily.

Francesca laughed. “Do not look at me with such suspicion, I beg you. ’Tis nothing terrible. I invited Callie to stay here in London with me, at least until the Season starts. Indeed, through the Season, if it is all right with you or you do not wish to return to London for the whole time. I think that Callie is a little bored at Marcastle, and the duchess…well…”

She trailed off, and Rochford could not keep from grinning. “Ah, yes, the duchess.”

“Callie is a lively young girl, and I am sure it must be tiring for the duchess to have to look after her,” Francesca continued diplomatically. “And Callie, while she appreciates all that her grandmother has done for her, chafes a bit under her control, I think.”

“Yes, I know, and it is no wonder. Grandmother rarely finds a situation that she cannot worsen by lecturing. I know she has been wearing on Callie’s nerves this winter. I have no idea why she took it into her head to spend so long with us instead of taking the waters at Bath with her friends.”

“She is, it seems, growing anxious about Callie’s unmarried state.”

Rochford let out a groan. “She is enough to make a person swear off marriage altogether just to spite her.” He cast Francesca a faintly abashed look. “You will think me ungrateful, I know, to speak in such a way about her, after she has done so much for Callie and me—taking us on when she should have been settling down to a well-deserved old age of leisure. But one cannot live one’s life according to her dictates.”

“Do not expect sympathy from me, Rochford. You know my parents,” Francesca responded lightly. “Still, as devoted and dutiful as I know the duchess to be, I think she would welcome a little respite from chaperoning a lively young woman. I, on the other hand, would welcome the company. The city is always dull at this time of year. Callie and I could visit the shops and attend the theater. It will be ever so much more enjoyable to have someone with me.”

The duke narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “Did my sister put you up to this?”

Francesca laughed. “You are far too suspicious. Of course Callie is not averse to the scheme, but I can assure you that I would very much enjoy her company, as well. Sometimes it is a trifle lonely here by myself.”

He gazed at her consideringly. Then, somewhat to Francesca’s surprise, he shrugged and said, almost offhandedly, “Of course, if you and Callie wish it, I am quite willing for her to stay with you. You know, despite what Callie may have said, she does not really have to obtain my permission to visit a friend for a few weeks. She is, after all, over twenty-one. And I am not a tyrant.”

“I am sure you are not,” Francesca replied, then added, with the charming little catlike grin that was her trademark, “But do not forget, I have known you long enough to point out that you can be a trifle, shall we say, imperious?”

“Oh, really?” His straight black brows soared upward. “I challenge you to produce an example of it.”

“I could produce a hundred of them,” she retorted. “I remember when I was ten and rode my pony onto your drive and frightened that horrid peacock that used to parade about the front lawn of your house. And you told me that Dancy Park was your land, and you would not have me disturbing your bird.”

“Good Gad, I had forgotten about that peacock,” he said, and laughed. “Damned noisy thing. Did I really say that? I am surprised I did not cheer you on. Well, if you are going to dig back so far for examples, I should point out that you were a rag-mannered child, and I am sure that if I told you what to do, you no doubt needed to be told.”

Francesca protested, laughing, and they were bantering in this lighthearted way when Callie came hurrying into the room. She stopped, taking in the scene, and smiled with relief.

When the maid had brought in her tea and toast and had told her that the duke was downstairs this early in the morning, Callie had feared the worst. Dreading the prospect of another scene with Rochford, but determined not to allow Francesca to bear the brunt of his displeasure, she had dressed as quickly as she could and almost run down to the drawing room. Now, surveying the tableau before her, she told herself that she should have remembered that Lady Francesca was an expert at turning almost any social disaster into a triumph. No doubt charming an irate duke was an easy task for her.

“Hallo, Rochford,” Callie said a little shyly, still feeling a bit uneasy with him after their argument the night before, and entered the room.

He turned, smiling, at her voice. “Callie, my dear.”

A knot in Callie’s chest untwined, and she went to her brother, holding out her hands to him. “Oh, Sinclair, I am sorry for leaving the house like that last night. I am sure I worried you and Grandmother, and I should not have.”

He took her hands in his and smiled down into her face. “Your grandmother does not even know about it. The footman brought me the note from Lady Haughston as soon as he received it, so I knew you were here and safe. I told the footman to inform your maid not to awaken you this morning, and I went to your room and retrieved your note. Then I left this morning before the duchess came down to breakfast. She will doubtless be somewhat surprised to find that you decided to accompany me on such an early call, but…” He shrugged and looked down at the dress that Francesca had lent her the evening before. “So unless you think that Grandmother will recognize that this dress is not yours, there should be no problem.”