Free The Wedding Challenge by Candace Camp Page A

this man, why he had reacted so sharply to seeing him with her.
    “I must apologize for the way my brother acted,” she began, again looking over at him.
    He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “It is only natural for a brother to worry about his sister. To want to protect her. I understand, having a sister, also.”
    “I hope that you are not so heavy-handed about protecting her,” Callie replied with a smile.
    He chuckled. “Indeed not. I fear she would have my hide if I tried to tell her what to do. She is a little older than I, though she would not like to hear me tell anyone so, and she is more accustomed to telling me what to do than the other way ’round.” The twinkle left his eyes, and there was steel in his voice, however, as he went on. “Still…I would despise any man who tried to harm her.”
    “I love my brother and my grandmother, but sometimes they can be a bit smothering,” Callie admitted.
    “Is their smothering why you are walking to Lady Haughston’s by yourself so late at night?”
    Callie hesitated, then answered noncommittally, “I am going to Lady Haughston’s to ask her for a favor.”
    She was relieved when he did not point out that she had not actually answered his question…or that it was rather an odd time to be asking for a favor. She was all too aware of that fact herself. It had been foolish of her to strike out on her own as impulsively as she had. It had been only her good fortune that it was Lord Bromwell she met and not some ruffian.
    “You must think me young and silly,” she said, flushing a little. “Clearly I acted in the heat of anger.”
    “No.” He smiled down into her face. “I find you young and very beautiful.” He paused, then added, the mischievous sparkle once more in his gaze, “And perhaps something of a trial to your overprotective relatives.”
    Callie laughed. “No doubt I am.”
    She looked up and found it was terribly hard to look away. It took a conscious effort to pull her gaze from his, and she knew that she had stared at him far too long for politeness. Her throat was dry, and her mind seemed astonishingly blank. She cast about for something to say, telling herself that she was acting like a schoolgirl at her first dance.
    “I see you are not wearing your hat,” she said at last, groaning a little inwardly at the inanity of her comment.
    “No, I left it behind. I found I could not bring myself to look quite that foolish on the street.”
    “Foolish! No!” she bantered. “I thought your hat was quite dashing.”
    She realized, with a little skip of her pulse, that she was flirting with him again, as she had earlier this evening. He responded in the same way, his voice light, yet laced with an underlying warmth and meaning, his eyes bright as he looked at her.
    “You have not changed out of your attire, either.” He reached out with his forefinger and pushed her hood back a little, exposing the downward dip of her Tudor cap in the front. “I am glad. ’Tis a fetching hat.”
    Callie realized that they had drifted to a halt, standing quite close together. His fingers still lingered at the edge of her hood.
    “But I am glad you took off the mask,” he continued, his voice turning husky. “Your face is far too lovely to hide even a part of it.”
    His fingertips brushed down her cheek, and Callie’s breath caught in her throat. She thought that he was going to kiss her again, and her heart began to pound in her chest. She thought of the heat that had flared between them, the pressure of his lips on hers, velvet smooth and enticing, yet demanding, as well.
    But then his hand fell away, and he turned, starting to walk again. Callie fell in beside him. Her pulse was racing, and her knees were a little wobbly. She wondered what he had felt, if desire had raced through him just then, or if it had been only on her side.
    It did not take them long to reach the elegant house in which Francesca lived, and Callie’s heart sank a little as they