sure that if I told you what to do, you no doubt needed to be told.”
Francesca protested, laughing, and they were bantering in this lighthearted way when Callie came hurrying into the room. She stopped, taking in the scene, and smiled with relief.
When the maid had brought in her tea and toast and had told her that the duke was downstairs this early in the morning, Callie had feared the worst. Dreading the prospect of another scene with Rochford, but determined not to allow Francesca to bear the brunt of his displeasure, she had dressed as quickly as she could and almost run down to the drawing room. Now, surveying the tableau before her, she told herself that she should have remembered that Lady Francesca was an expert at turning almost any social disaster into a triumph. No doubt charming an irate duke was an easy task for her.
“Hallo, Rochford,” Callie said a little shyly, still feeling a bit uneasy with him after their argument the night before, and entered the room.
He turned, smiling, at her voice. “Callie, my dear.”
A knot in Callie’s chest untwined, and she went to her brother, holding out her hands to him. “Oh, Sinclair, I am sorry for leaving the house like that last night. I am sure I worried you and Grandmother, and I should not have.”
He took her hands in his and smiled down into her face. “Your grandmother does not even know about it. The footman brought me the note from Lady Haughston as soon as he received it, so I knew you were here and safe. I told the footman to inform your maid not to awaken you this morning, and I went to your room and retrieved your note. Then I left this morning before the duchess came down to breakfast. She will doubtless be somewhat surprised to find that you decided to accompany me on such an early call, but…” He shrugged and looked down at the dress that Francesca had lent her the evening before. “So unless you think that Grandmother will recognize that this dress is not yours, there should be no problem.”
“One muslin morning dress is much like any other,” Callie replied. “If she should notice, I will simply tell her that I had forgotten and left it at Lilles House last Season, and that is why she has not seen it on me recently.”
“Clever minx.” The duke grinned down at her fondly. “I suppose your ease in fabricating tales should make me nervous. But I think I will choose to ignore it. Now, Lady Francesca tells me that she has been good enough to invite you to stay with her until the Season starts. I told her I felt sure that you would enjoy that.”
“Yes, I should, very much,” Callie replied, smiling broadly. “I like Marcastle, but…”
“I know, I know, country life is beginning to pall. It is certainly all right with me if you stay here, though I must warn Lady Francesca that you will drag her through every shop on Bruton Street.”
“Indeed, you wrong me!” Callie objected, but she was laughing.
“Well, you had best get on your cloak and bonnet so that we can go home and you can set to packing for your visit. No doubt you will also have a list for the housekeeper of things that she must send in addition.”
“Oh, no,” Callie retorted. “I shall simply purchase new things.”
With another sparkling grin, she turned and left the room, hurrying on light feet back upstairs. Rochford turned to Francesca.
“Do not say I did not warn you.”
“I think that I will be able to hold my own when it comes to shopping,” Francesca responded, smiling.
“Callie has her own allowance, and she can draw on her monies for clothes and such,” he told her. “But, of course, I will direct my man of business to provide an adequate amount for her household expenses.”
Francesca stiffened. She could feel a flush rising in her cheeks. Was it possible that Rochford suspected her financial straits? Had he guessed how perilously close to destitution Lord Haughston had left her when he died five years ago? How closely she still
Francesca protested, laughing, and they were bantering in this lighthearted way when Callie came hurrying into the room. She stopped, taking in the scene, and smiled with relief.
When the maid had brought in her tea and toast and had told her that the duke was downstairs this early in the morning, Callie had feared the worst. Dreading the prospect of another scene with Rochford, but determined not to allow Francesca to bear the brunt of his displeasure, she had dressed as quickly as she could and almost run down to the drawing room. Now, surveying the tableau before her, she told herself that she should have remembered that Lady Francesca was an expert at turning almost any social disaster into a triumph. No doubt charming an irate duke was an easy task for her.
“Hallo, Rochford,” Callie said a little shyly, still feeling a bit uneasy with him after their argument the night before, and entered the room.
He turned, smiling, at her voice. “Callie, my dear.”
A knot in Callie’s chest untwined, and she went to her brother, holding out her hands to him. “Oh, Sinclair, I am sorry for leaving the house like that last night. I am sure I worried you and Grandmother, and I should not have.”
He took her hands in his and smiled down into her face. “Your grandmother does not even know about it. The footman brought me the note from Lady Haughston as soon as he received it, so I knew you were here and safe. I told the footman to inform your maid not to awaken you this morning, and I went to your room and retrieved your note. Then I left this morning before the duchess came down to breakfast. She will doubtless be somewhat surprised to find that you decided to accompany me on such an early call, but…” He shrugged and looked down at the dress that Francesca had lent her the evening before. “So unless you think that Grandmother will recognize that this dress is not yours, there should be no problem.”
“One muslin morning dress is much like any other,” Callie replied. “If she should notice, I will simply tell her that I had forgotten and left it at Lilles House last Season, and that is why she has not seen it on me recently.”
“Clever minx.” The duke grinned down at her fondly. “I suppose your ease in fabricating tales should make me nervous. But I think I will choose to ignore it. Now, Lady Francesca tells me that she has been good enough to invite you to stay with her until the Season starts. I told her I felt sure that you would enjoy that.”
“Yes, I should, very much,” Callie replied, smiling broadly. “I like Marcastle, but…”
“I know, I know, country life is beginning to pall. It is certainly all right with me if you stay here, though I must warn Lady Francesca that you will drag her through every shop on Bruton Street.”
“Indeed, you wrong me!” Callie objected, but she was laughing.
“Well, you had best get on your cloak and bonnet so that we can go home and you can set to packing for your visit. No doubt you will also have a list for the housekeeper of things that she must send in addition.”
“Oh, no,” Callie retorted. “I shall simply purchase new things.”
With another sparkling grin, she turned and left the room, hurrying on light feet back upstairs. Rochford turned to Francesca.
“Do not say I did not warn you.”
“I think that I will be able to hold my own when it comes to shopping,” Francesca responded, smiling.
“Callie has her own allowance, and she can draw on her monies for clothes and such,” he told her. “But, of course, I will direct my man of business to provide an adequate amount for her household expenses.”
Francesca stiffened. She could feel a flush rising in her cheeks. Was it possible that Rochford suspected her financial straits? Had he guessed how perilously close to destitution Lord Haughston had left her when he died five years ago? How closely she still
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