Free The Wedding Challenge by Candace Camp Page B

approached it. She forced a smile as she stopped at the foot of the steps before Francesca’s door.
    “We are here,” she told him and extended her hand politely. “Thank you for escorting me. I hope I have not taken you too far out of your way.”
    “It was a pleasure,” he assured her, taking her hand. But instead of bowing over it, he simply stood, holding it and looking down into her face. “But you must promise me not to do anything so dangerous again. You must send me a note if you plan any more midnight rambles. I promise I will come with you. To keep you safe.”
    “I assure you, I will be quite careful in the future. I will not need you.”
    “Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow teasingly; then, with a swiftness that surprised her, he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her to him, bending his head to kiss her.
    Bromwell’s kiss was everything she remembered, and more. His teeth were hard against her mouth, his tongue soft as it insinuated itself between her lips. He tasted a little of port and more of dark, beckoning hunger. Callie felt her knees sag, and she flung her arm around his neck, holding on, as she kissed him back.
    His hand let go of hers and went to her back, sliding down along her cloak to the soft curve of her buttocks. His palm glided over the fleshy mound, fingertips digging in a little and lifting her up and into him. She felt the hard ridge of his desire against her softer flesh, and she was both startled and intrigued—even more so when she felt the wet heat of her own response blossoming between her legs.
    She made a soft, eager noise, and heard the groan of his response. He lifted his head and stared down at her for a long moment, his eyes bright, a faint surprise mingling with desire on his face.
    “No,” he murmured. “I think I have it wrong—’tis you who are dangerous.” He took a breath and released it, letting her go as he stepped back. “I will bid you adieu, my lady.” He removed himself another step, then flashed a grin at her as he said, “We will meet again. I promise it.”
    With that he turned and walked away, though Callie noticed that he paused in the shadow of a tree two doors down and turned back to watch her. It warmed her to realize that he was waiting to see that she got safely inside, while at the same time protecting her reputation by not appearing with her. Hiding a smile, she trotted up the few steps to Francesca’s door. Taking a breath to calm her racing heart, she reached up and knocked.
    Silence followed her knock, and for the first time it occurred to her that Francesca might not be at home. She could, indeed, still be at Aunt Odelia’s party. After all, clearly Lord Bromwell had just been walking home. Or, of course, everyone in the house could already be asleep.
    She reminded herself that eventually someone would hear the knock and answer the door, even if the household was abed. Francesca’s butler would recognize her and let her in, however odd he might find her appearance on their doorstep at this hour.
    Still, she was relieved when the door opened after a moment to reveal a slightly disheveled footman. At first he opened the door only a few inches; at the sight of only a young woman on the doorstep, his eyebrows flew up and he pulled the door wider.
    “Miss?” he asked, looking bewildered.
    “Lady Calandra Lilles,” Callie told him, putting on her most dignified face.
    He appeared a trifle dubious, but at that moment Francesca’s butler appeared behind him, nightcap on and wrapped in a dressing gown. “My lady!” he exclaimed, then said sharply to the footman, “Step back, Cooper, and let her ladyship in.”
    “I am sorry to appear at such a late hour, Fenton,” Callie told the butler as she stepped inside.
    “Oh, my lady, do not even think such a thing,” Fenton replied. “You are always welcome in this house. Cooper will show you to the yellow sitting room while I inform Lady Haughston that you are here.”
    With