Page 51 of The Wedding Challenge

CHAPTER TWELVE

CALLIE WAS SOMEWHAT SURPRISED and disappointed when Lord Bromwell did not call upon her the following morning. However, she did not think anything of it. She was not feeling very hearty herself. Her head hurt, her stomach was a bit queasy, and the winter light streaming in the windows of Francesca’s morning room made her eyes hurt. It was all due, she knew, to the strong arrack punch that she had drunk the evening before. Callie had never drunk anything more than white wine with dinner or perhaps a glass of ratafia or sherry. Given the way she felt, she thought that she would prefer to stick to that course in the future.

Francesca asked her a few questions about the evening. Even though Callie had planned to tell her nothing about the events at the Gardens, she realized that she must reveal that Lord and Lady Radbourne had not been there, as they were close friends, and the subject was bound to come up when next they saw Lady Irene.

Therefore, after telling her a bit about the beauty of the lights and the fireworks, Callie finally said, “Lord and Lady Radbourne did not come.”

“What?” Francesca, who had been darning a stocking as they talked, dropped the darning egg in her lap and sat up straighter. “They were not there?”

“No.”

“But what—who—oh, dear, I knew I should have gone,” Francesca moaned.

“Do not worry. It was all quite uneventful. Lady Swithington was there, and Lord Bromwell. It was quite a big party. Miss Swanson and her brother and another young lady were there, also.”

“I cannot imagine why Irene would not have notified us if she could not go,” Francesca said, looking worried. “Well, at least you had on a domino and mask. You kept it on all evening, did you not?”

“Oh, yes. No one would have recognized me,” Callie assured her. “I did not even go out to the dance floor,” she lied.

Francesca nodded, looking somewhat relieved, but a frown still married her forehead. “You know, I believe that I shall pay a call on Irene this afternoon.”

“You think perhaps one of them was ill?”

“I am not certain what I think,” Francesca replied thoughtfully. “But I would like to discover why they were absent. Irene is not the flighty sort. Would you care to come with me?”

Callie declined. She did not feel like going out, and she was hopeful that an afternoon nap with a lavender-scented cloth over her forehead might help her headache. Besides, she found that she often preferred to stay at home, given Lord Bromwell’s frequent calls.

As it turned out, he did not come to call in the afternoon, either. But the nap in her darkened room did help restore her, so that when Francesca returned, Callie was feeling much more the thing and greeted her cheerfully.

Francesca, however, looked a good deal less than cheerful. Indeed, her deep blue eyes were snapping, and there was a pugnacious set to her delicate chin.

“That Swithington woman!” she said scathingly when Callie asked her if aught was amiss.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Francesca said, biting off each word, “that Irene told me that Lady Swithington wrote her a note on Sunday saying that she was sorry to tell her that the party to Vauxhall Gardens had been called off, but that she hoped very much that they would plan for it again in a few more weeks.”

“Oh.” Callie was not very surprised, though she had been hoping that the whole thing would turn out to have been an unhappy accident.

Francesca continued to pace the room, talking angrily about Lady Swithington’s deception, but Callie listened to her with only half an ear. Her mind was occupied with thinking about what Lady Daphne had done.

It was clear now that Bromwell’s sister had arranged things the night before to turn out as they had. She had not wanted the restraining influences of Lord and Lady Radbourne—or perhaps it was simply their respectability she wished to avoid. She also clearly had not wanted Callie to know that Gideon and Irene would not be among their party, for she had pretended ignorance at their absence and kept assuring Callie that the pair would doubtless come later. So it was not simply that she had wanted to be free to indulge in her own scandalous behavior, she also wanted Callie to be there and a part of it.

But why? It made no sense to Callie. The only result she could find was that it made her distrust Brom’s sister.

Brom had obviously not known about whatever his sister had planned. He had been shocked and angry when he found her alone in the supper box. He had also expected Irene and Gideon to be there. And, Callie thought, he had given no indication that he could not have been with them earlier. In fact, he had seemed rather surprised at the length of time they had been there, and when Callie had commented that she had been afraid he was not going to come, he had looked surprised and said something like, “Daphne said—” and then stopped. Callie felt rather certain that he had been about to remark that his sister had told him not to come any earlier.

Callie could not escape the conclusion that for some reason Daphne disliked her intensely, despite the sweet way Daphne acted toward her. Could it be that she hoped to somehow influence her brother against Callie?

If Callie had not tossed a bottle at that fellow last night, might he have climbed over the ledge of the box and tried to take advantage of her? And what might Brom have thought if he had arrived at the supper box to find Callie all alone in the arms of another man?

Callie gave a little shiver. If that had been Daphne’s reason for the way she acted last night, she must be a very cold and uncaring person, to sacrifice another woman that way. It also seemed a most uncertain sort of outcome. Things were just as likely, surely, to turn out as they had, with Bromwell arriving and being annoyed with his sister for leaving Callie alone.

She was glad that they had no social engagements for this evening. She did not feel like going out, especially if there was any possibility of running into Lady Swithington. It was rather nice, really, to spend a quiet evening at home, and she managed to get letters written to both her grandmother and her brother. However, she had to admit, at least to herself, that she did miss Lord Bromwell. She tried to remember when was the last time that an entire day had gone by without her seeing him.

Callie awaited his call the following day with anticipation, but, surprisingly, he did not come by. Late in the afternoon, Francesca asked, “Where is your friend Lord Bromwell? I must say, I have become rather accustomed to seeing him.”

Callie shook her head, aware of an odd little pain in her chest. “I do not know.”