Page 32 of The Wedding Challenge

“But he will not tell me anything.”

Francesca sighed and finally said, “I would guess that it is the earl’s sister who concerns your brother more than the earl himself. If Rochford holds something specific against Bromwell, then I have no idea what it is.”

“He objects to—what did you say her name was? Lady Smittington?”

“Swithington,” Francesca said, and once again Callie detected a certain bite to her tone when she spoke of the woman. “Lady Swithington. Daphne.”

“Then you know her?”

Francesca nodded. “Yes, she was in London when I made my come-out. She was a widow at the time. Her first husband was quite a bit older than she, and he had died a year or so before. There was…a great deal of talk about her. She was scandalous in her behavior. Everyone whispered about her. I am not sure how much of it was actual truth. As you know, young unmarried girls, especially those fresh to London, are not privy to all the rumors, especially the more licentious ones. But her reputation was that of a woman of loose morals. Even before her husband’s death.”

“She had affairs?” Callie asked.

Francesca nodded. “Yes. So it was rumored.”

“But surely Sinclair cannot blame her brother for her behavior!” Callie declared indignantly.

“No, I am sure he does not. But perhaps he feels that the earl is cut from the same cloth,” Francesca suggested.

“But that is simply speculation. He doesn’t know.”

Francesca shrugged. “I have no idea what Sinclair knows about the man. I can only say that I have heard nothing about him,” Francesca pointed out. “But you know how fragile a young woman’s reputation is. Perhaps Rochford does not like the idea that anyone might connect your name with someone who is not of the highest morals. Or perhaps he feels that he would not want you to marry the man because of the scandal that has been attached to Lady Swithington’s name. And if you cannot marry him, then it would be best that you have nothing to do with him.”

“But that is so unfair!” Callie exclaimed, throwing her arms wide in a gesture of frustration. She began to pace up and down the room, saying, “It is wrong to color Lord Bromwell with the same stain, just because he is her brother.” She turned and stared searchingly at Francesca. “Is that what you think of Lord Bromwell? That he is wicked?”

Francesca looked at her, pained, and finally shrugged. “No—I do not know what he is. I barely know the man. He seems a fine person, but I know that what he appears to be is not necessarily what he is. He is Lady Daphne’s brother, so it seems possible that he may be of the same ilk as she. On the other hand, I am quite certain that not all members of a family are alike. I have two brothers. One is a wonderful man. The other was wicked.” Francesca’s lovely face hardened. “And I would hate to think that anyone assumed that I was like Terence simply because we were related.”

“There! You see?” Callie said triumphantly. “It is wrong to assume that Lord Bromwell is wicked, too.”

Francesca seemed to struggle with her answer, finally saying, “Yes, it would be wrong, if that is what your brother is doing. But we cannot know his reasons, really, and if he is so opposed to your seeing this man…”

“But what about me?” Callie cried out. “What about what I want? Why should my brother be allowed to make decisions for me? I am a grown woman. Why should I not be the one who decides whom I shall see? With whom I will spend time?”

“Yes, of course, you should be,” Francesca agreed.

“I am not going to do something foolish,” Callie pointed out. “I am quite capable of realizing that a man is trying to take advantage of me. Do you not agree?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“So it seems to me that it is not Sinclair’s view on this man that matters, it is mine.”

“I am sure that Rochford is trying to protect you,” Francesca put in.

“No doubt he is,” Callie retorted. “But I am growing very tired of people who are trying to protect me telling me what I can and cannot do.”

“Of course you are.”

“And I should like to be allowed to make my own decisions.”

Again Francesca nodded. “I know, my dear. I know.”

“Then are you going to allow me to do so?” Callie asked. “Or are you going to tell me that he cannot call here?”

Francesca’s brows flew up in surprise. “Oh, my dear—I was not saying that. I thought I should warn you. I was not certain if you were aware of how Rochford would feel about it.”

“I am not certain, either,” Callie told her. “Sinclair was angry that night, but it was so unlike him…. Looking back on it, I have wondered if it was not simply that he was worried because he could not find me. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the earl himself. Perhaps he would have reacted the same way about any other man—or, at least, a man he did not know well.”

Francesca shrugged. “That could be true.”