has rejected them all—at least all the ones who were not too scared of the duke to even try to court her. Rumor has it that she will never marry. They say that the Lilles are simply a cold family.”
The corner of the other man’s mouth quirked up a trifle, and he murmured, “I saw nothing cold about the lady.”
Archibald shifted uneasily in his seat. “I say, Brom, what exactly are you thinking?”
A half smile played on Bromwell’s lips. “I was thinking how nervous it made the duke tonight to see me with Lady Calandra. It was most amusing.”
His words did not appear to reassure his cousin, who looked even more alarmed. “The duke will have your liver and lights if you harm Lady Calandra.”
Bromwell sent the other man a sideways glance. “Do you really think that I am afraid of anything the duke might do to me?”
“No, the devil take it. I am sure you are not. But, frankly, I am scared enough of him for both of us.”
The earl smiled. “Do not fret yourself, Archie. I do not intend to harm the girl. Indeed…” His lips curved up in a smile that was anything but reassuring. “I plan to be quite charming to her.”
Tilford let out a low groan. “I knew it. You are planning something. This is bound to end badly. I am sure of it. Please, Brom, can we not just drive on and forget all this?”
“Very well,” Bromwell replied absently. “I have seen all I wanted to, in any case.”
He started to drop the curtain that covered the window, but then he leaned forward, peering out, and held up a hand to his cousin. “No, wait. There is someone coming out. A woman.”
“A servant? At this hour?” Even Archibald sounded interested and turned to lift the other side of the window curtain. “An assignation, do you think, with some footman or—”
“The devil!” Bromwell’s exclamation was low but forceful. “It is the lady herself.”
He watched as the woman pulled up the hood of her cloak, concealing her head and face, then set off down the street. Taking Archie’s cane from his cousin’s relaxed hand, he raised it to open the small square window beside the driver’s head and give him a terse set of instructions.
Then he leaned back against the seat, pulling the concealing curtain into place, as the carriage rolled forward, following the woman.
“You think that is Lady Calandra?” Archie asked disbelievingly. “What would she be doing out? Alone? And at this time of night?”
“What indeed?” his cousin repeated, tapping his forefinger against his lips thoughtfully.
Archie pushed aside a sliver of curtain and looked out. “We’ve passed her.”
“I know.”
At the next street their carriage turned right and rolled slowly to a stop. Bromwell opened the door and stepped out of the carriage.
“Brom! What do you think you are doing?” Archie asked.
The earl replied lightly, “Well, I can scarcely let a lady walk alone at this hour, can I?”
With a smile and a tip of his hat, Bromwell closed the door and walked off.
CHAPTER FOUR
CALLIE WALKED QUICKLY, her footsteps echoing in the empty street. When she had conceived of her plan, she had not really thought about how dark and empty the night would be. It had seemed relevant only in that there would be no one about to see that she was walking out boldly without a maid or other companion. But now, as she hurried past the dark hulking shapes of the other houses, it occurred to her that a companion, even one as slight as her maid, would be reassuring.
She was not in general someone who frightened easily, but as she walked, the anger that had sent her hurrying out into the night began to ebb away, replaced by the realization that night was the time when thieves and other evildoers were afoot, going about their business. This was, of course, the best area of London and therefore should be much safer than any other place, but she could not help but remember the stories she had heard of gentlemen being followed home from taverns and attacked in their inebriated state. And surely, if someone was going to rob a wealthy household, now would be the time when the thief would be breaking in.
Moreover, even if there were no such robbers around, she knew that gentlemen, especially those in their cups, could be dangerous enough—and likely to assume that a woman alone on the street at night was not a decent woman at all, but in all likelihood one who sold her virtue on a routine basis. Callie had no desire to be mistaken for a barque of frailty plying her trade.
The sound of a carriage behind her made her start, but she did not look around, merely walked with as confident a stride as she could muster. Perhaps the occupant of the carriage would assume she was a man in a long cloak, not noticing the hem of her dress beneath it. Or perhaps he would not look out at all.
She let out a breath of relief as the carriage passed her, rattling over the bricks down the next block and disappearing around the corner. Callie hurried across the next intersection and on down the sidewalk. The few blocks to Lady Haughston’s home, so short a distance in ordinary circumstances, seemed frighteningly long now. Callie thought about turning back, but she told herself not to be a goose and forged on ahead.
In front of her, at the end of the block, a figure came around the corner, heading toward her. Callie hesitated, her heart leaping into her throat, and then she walked on slowly. If she were to turn and run now, she thought, it might cause the stranger to pursue her, if only because it would stir his curiosity.
Besides, there was something very puzzling about the man, something that made her go forward, squinting to see him better in the dim light. The man walking toward her did not wear a greatcoat or cloak or—how strange—even a hat. And though clearly he was a man, there was something odd about his manner of dress. His jacket was puffed at the sleeves, and his trousers were rather wide above his cuffed boots. He was not wearing the usual evening attire of a gentleman—or, indeed, the clothes of any sort of man she could identify. And he seemed to have stuck his cane through the side of his belt.
Her first thought was that he must be several sheets to the wind, and her second was that…but no, that was impossible!
Callie came to a dead stop.
The man continued toward her at the same steady pace, and with each stride she became more and more certain that her eyes were not playing tricks on her.
“Lord Bromwell!” she exclaimed.
In the next moment she wished that she had not let out the words. She should, she thought, have turned around and headed straight back for her house. He would think she was a lunatic. No, worse than that, he might assume that she was a woman of loose morals. No sister of a duke would be suspected of selling herself, of course, but she knew that the likeliest reason for her to be out at this time of night was for some sort of romantic rendezvous. In a married woman, such behavior would be scandalous, but for a girl not yet married, it would be disastrous.
Her stomach sank at the realization that this man would probably now look upon her with contempt. And if he told anyone that he had seen her in these circumstances, her reputation would be ruined, her brother and
