The Wedding Challenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

the doors, open to the terrace to let in some of the refreshingly cold evening air.
    “Ah, that is much better, is it not?” he said. “One can grow quite heated dancing.”
    Callie nodded absently, thinking that perhaps Mr. Waters was not so interesting a conversationalist as she had thought. She glanced around the room and finally spotted her grandmother. The old lady was engaged in conversation with Lord Pomerance, and Callie stifled a groan. Surely her grandmother would not inflict that insufferable windbag upon her! He was younger than Mr. Carberry and less stodgy, but his sense of self-importance was overreaching, and he was certain that everyone around him was deeply interested in all the minute details of his existence.
    “Those two have the right idea,” Mr. Waters continued.
    “What?” Callie’s gaze was fixed on her grandmother.
    Her companion nodded toward the terrace beyond them. “Stepping outside for a bit of fresh air.”
    “Yes, I suppose.”
    The duchess turned her head, searching the room, and Callie knew that she was looking for her.
    Callie whipped around so that her back was to her grandmother. “Yes,” she said quickly. “You are right—a breath of fresh air.”
    She slipped out the door. Her surprised escort hesitated for a fraction of a second, then grinned and hurried out after her.
    Callie walked swiftly away from the ballroom toward the darker reaches of the terrace. The winter air was chilly against her bare arms and neck, but, warmed as she was from dancing in the stuffy room, it was at the moment quite welcome. She stopped when they reached the railing that marked the end of the upper terrace, well beyond where her grandmother might see if she looked out the door from the ballroom.
    “I am sorry,” she told her companion with a quick smile. “You must think me quite mad, rushing out here this way.”
    “Not mad. Impetuous, perhaps,” Waters replied with a smile and reached out to take her hand in both his. “I can only assume that you were as eager as I to be alone.”
    As Callie watched in stunned amazement, he raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it, then said, “I had not realized—I had hoped, but I did not dream that you might return my affection.”
    “What?” Callie tried to tug her hand from his, but Waters was holding on to it too tightly.
    She saw now the mistake she had made in her impulsive rush to escape her grandmother’s manipulations. With some other gentleman, one whom she knew better, it would have been all right. He would have laughed about her predicament with the duchess and promised to come to her aid. Mr. Waters, obviously, had jumped to the wrong conclusion…or perhaps he had simply seen a golden opportunity to advance his suit with her. Callie could not forget her suspicions that the man was an opportunist.
    She took a step back, but he followed her, still holding her hand and gazing down fervently into her face as he said, “You must know the depth of my feeling for you, the love that burns in my heart….”
    “No! Mr. Waters, I fear that you have misunderstood,” Callie replied firmly. “Pray, let go of my hand.”
    “Not until you have answered me. Lady Calandra, I beseech you, make my dreams come—”
    “Mr. Waters, stop!” With a heave, Callie tore her hand from his grasp. “I am sorry that I inadvertently gave you the wrong impression, but, please, let us put an end to this conversation.”
    She started to walk past him, but Waters grabbed her arms, holding her in place.
    “No, hear me out,” he said. “I love you, Calandra. My heart, my soul, burns for you. I beg you, say that you care for me, too, that there is in your heart a spark that—”
    “Stop this at once,” Callie commanded. “Let us go back inside, and we shall forget that this ever happened.”
    “I do not want to forget,” he told her. “Every moment with you is precious to me.”
    Callie gritted her teeth. His flowery words grated on her, and with