Page 42 of The Wedding Challenge

“Of course Lady Calandra is free to do as she wishes,” Francesca told her stiffly.

Callie turned to Francesca, torn. She wanted to go, but she felt a little guilty about it, as if she were deserting Francesca. “I—that is, I should go with Lady Haughston to, um…”

“Nonsense.” Francesca smiled and reached over to pat Callie on the arm. “There is no need for you to sacrifice yourself. I recall now that it is simply a visit with an old friend. You go on and have fun.”

“Then it is settled. What fun it will be.” Bromwell’s sister smiled brilliantly, and she and Miss Swanson settled into a discussion about dominoes and masks to wear to the event.

Callie fell back to ride beside Francesca and Irene. She said in a low voice, “Francesca, I can send Lady Swithington a note saying I cannot come.”

Francesca smiled at her. “No, I should feel quite terrible if I made you forego your pleasure just because I cannot bear to be in that woman’s company a few more hours. I would not countenance Lady Swithington as a chaperone, heaven knows, but if Irene and Gideon are there, it will be perfectly proper. And I know you want to go.”

“I will make sure that decorum is maintained,” Irene agreed, leaning forward to speak across Francesca.

It was common knowledge that a good deal of overly free behavior took place at Vauxhall Gardens. But as long as there were gentlemen in one’s party to discourage the bold young men who liked to stroll along the boxes, ogling unattached women, and a married lady to lend countenance to the whole affair, it was an enjoyable evening’s entertainment.

Callie had been there before in the company of her brother, and it had always seemed to her a magical sort of place, with its paths and fountains and false ruins, all bathed in the warm glow of lanterns strung along the walkways and in the surrounding trees. If that were not enough, there were the orchestra in the pavilion, dancing, wandering singers, and sometimes even acrobats who might juggle or walk along a tightrope strung over their heads.

She looked forward to the prospect of seeing it when she was not under the watchful eye of her brother, and the idea of strolling along the paths in the company of Lord Bromwell appealed to her even more.

Callie smiled over at Irene. “Thank you.” She looked at Francesca again. “If you are sure.”

“Yes, I am sure.” Francesca smiled. “I do not think even your grandmother would question your going there with a large party that included Irene and Gideon. And if you do not go without me, then I shall be forced to endure an evening in that woman’s company, which I vowed an hour ago I would not do.”

Callie cast a questioning glance at Irene, who merely shrugged and raised her eyebrows slightly.

“All right,” Callie agreed, then smiled affectionately at Francesca. “Thank you.”

“Do not be foolish. There is no reason why you should be deprived of your pleasures just because I allow that woman to overset my nerves.” She smiled at Callie. “And now I think I shall go for a little run myself and see if I can clear out my poor temper.”

She urged her horse into a trot, and soon left them and the rest of the party behind her. Callie watched Francesca ride past the others and settle into a slower pace in front of everyone else.

Callie turned to Irene. “Do you know why she was upset with Lady Swithington?”

“I’m not sure, other than the fact that Lady Swithington can be a bit of a trial. However, I have seen Francesca smile and get along with far worse, my sister-in-law included.”

Callie, who was acquainted with Lady Wyngate, the wife of Irene’s brother Humphrey, smothered a smile.

“I understand that Lady Swithington’s reputation left something to be desired,” Irene went on. “But that was years ago. I do not even remember her. And as she has been away in Wales or some such place since then, she cannot have aroused much scandal there. Or, at least, none we heard of. She is a flirt, that much is clear.” Irene seemed placidly unconcerned by the fact, given that her husband had been the object of the other woman’s flirtation. “But I cannot see why that would have bothered Francesca. I was the one who wanted to slap her.”

“You did?” Callie asked in surprise.

Irene laughed. “Well, I would have, except that Gideon kept sending me such piteous looks, hoping for rescue, that I could not help but be a trifle amused by it all.”

A smile curved the other’s woman’s mouth, and for a moment there was such a slumbrous sensual light in Irene’s eyes that Callie had to glance away, feeling that she had seen something far too private. Then the look fell away, and Irene shrugged.

“I think Francesca may have been upset by the fact that Lady Swithington kept talking about you. It was hardly the sort of thing that one could object to—how lovely you were, what delicate manners you have, how well you sit a horse. Lady Daphne was hoping to further her brother’s suit, I suppose, but it might have been wiser not to say anything, as it only reminded everyone that you were not there, but were with her brother. In other company, or if you had been some other, less well-known, young woman, it might have led to gossip.”

Callie felt her cheeks warm. “Was there talk? I did not realize we were gone so long. I—it was just so enjoyable to ride.” She looked off to the side, unwilling to face Irene’s clear golden-brown gaze.

“No. Of course not. Your reputation is such that it would take behavior far worse than that to shake it. And in any case, you were soon in sight again.” Irene paused. “Lady Swithington mentioned your connection to the duke more than once, as well. Francesca probably thought she was being encroaching.”

Callie nodded. She was still of the opinion that there must be something more than little things such as Irene had mentioned to make the usually equable Francesca so dislike Lady Swithington. But Callie was not one to gossip about her suspicions, even to Irene.

The ride home was uneventful. Lord Bromwell did not single Callie out again. She knew that his action was wise; it would not do for him to show so strong a preference for her company after having ridden all the way over to the park by her side. Still, she could not deny the fact that she missed his presence, or that she would have liked more memories to store up and go over in her mind that night as she lay in bed.

He said goodbye to her in a formal way, only the warmth that tinted his eyes revealing any special feeling for her, then remounted and left with his sister and friends. Irene and Gideon also took their leave, refusing Francesca’s offer to stay and partake of a late tea with them.

Francesca and Callie, after a look at each other, agreed that they wanted to do nothing but rest and clean up, partake of a light supper and go early to bed. Callie was glad for the time alone. Fond as she was of Francesca’s company, right now she wanted only to be alone with her thoughts. She soaked in the tub, her maid appearing periodically to warm up the water from a kettle. Then, wrapped in her dressing gown, she sat on a low stool in front of the fire, brushing out her hair and letting it dry.