Loving Protector (9 page)

“It’s hard to believe this used to be a
leper hospital,” said the colonel.

“Did it?”

“Yes, Henry the eighth built the palace,
hence the Tudor style of the architecture. Daniel Dafoe considered it a bit
‘low and mean’ compared to other palaces in Europe.”

“I think it’s a wonderful building,”
said Calista. “Dafoe clearly does not appreciate good architecture.”

The carriage came to a halt inside the
courtyard, which was brightly lit. Some guests were standing outside waiting
for their name to be called. They waved a greeting to the colonel and Lady
Bedlington. The colonel helped his great aunt, then Calista down from the
coach. The pressure of his hand on Calista’s told her that he knew just how
nervous she was feeling. She hesitated slightly.

“Come,” he said gently. “Let me present
you to the King.”

Had he not been wearing all his finery,
Calista might not have realized that the rather portly, out-of-breath man
standing next to a matronly woman was the King. He reminded her of the grocer
in her town, who always had something amusing to say whilst he packaged up the
vegetables. Thinking of the King in such a light made him seem less
frightening. He was after all just a man, like any other man. The years of
pleasure, whilst his father refused to let him take any part in State affairs,
had taken their toll, leaving George the Fourth looking like a tired, old man.
The lady next to him, and his constant companion since she ousted his last
mistress from his affections, was Marchioness Conyngham. It was said that the
Marchioness was the only one who could deal with the King’s ever changing
moods.

Calista curtseyed low, as Lady
Bedlington had been teaching her for the past few days. “Charming, charming,”
said the King, smiling at Calista. “Do we not think so, Lady Conyngham?”

“Yes, a most pretty girl.”

To Calista’s great relief, the King did
not say any more to her. “Good to see you again, Colonel Windebank. Lady
Bedlington. Perhaps you will join us in a game of cards later.”

“I would be delighted your majesty.”

They moved further into the ante room.
Through a set of double doors, Calista could see that people were already
dancing.

“There,” said the colonel, “that was not
so awful, was it?”

“No. I was afraid he would ask me
something complicated and I would not be able to answer.”

The colonel laughed and said in a low voice,
“The King would be afraid to ask anything complicated in case he did not
understand the answer. Would you like some champagne?” Without waiting for a
reply the colonel stopped one of the attendants and handed a glass of champagne
each to his aunt and Calista.

“One thing I like about the palace is
that drinking is not forbidden,” said Lady Bedlington.

“Have you ever drunk champagne before,
Calista?” asked the colonel.

“No, but I believe I am expected to make
a comment about the bubbles going up my nose.”

“I will be extremely disappointed if you
do not.”

Calista took a sip of her drink, and her
first thought was to wonder what all the fuss was about. The champagne was
certainly not as nice as the wine they had drunk at dinner. It seemed rather
heavy and gassy to her.

“An acquired taste perhaps,” said the
colonel, when she wrinkled up her nose.

“Yes, perhaps.”

She looked around to see who else was at
the ball, not that she knew many people in London. She recognized a few who had
attended Almacks. Everyone was dressed even more elegantly than before, but she
also noticed that the atmosphere less relaxed.  One did not let one’s
guard down in the Court of St. James even if there was champagne on offer.

The King was still greeting guests, and
Calista almost dropped her glass when she saw that not only was he talking to
the Earl of Garton but that they were looking in her direction.

Chapter
Nine

“Shall we dance, Calista?” said the colonel.
He too seemed interested in the discussion going on at the entrance, and the
frown Calista had seen on his face earlier returned.

“Yes, thank you.”

He took her hand and led her to the
ballroom. The dancers were waltzing. “I’ve never waltzed,” she said.

“Then let me be the first to teach you.
It is not too difficult.”

It was not difficult, but it was
exciting, not least because unlike most of the quadrilles and jigs that Calista
had danced, the colonel was touching her the whole time. She was acutely aware
of the heat of his hands on her waist, through the thin material of her gown.
Her own hand fluttered against his shoulder, almost afraid to touch him,
because of the sensations he evoked in her. She knew that the waltz had been
considered scandalous, and was only recently becoming popular in Britain. She
could understand why. The waltz created an intimacy between a man and woman
that no other dance ever had.

She felt as though she were being swept
along on the air, and by the time the dance finished, she was flushed with
excitement.

Another dance, a jig, started straight
away.

“Shall we?” said the colonel, his eyes
looking as heavy as when he had kissed her hand earlier that day.

“Yes. Unless you would prefer to dance
with one of the other ladies.”

“I would not.”

“Don’t keep the girl all to yourself,
Windebank,” a voice said. It was Garton. “I wish to dance with her.”

Calista understood that to refuse would
create a scene, but nevertheless she appealed to the colonel with her eyes not
to leave her with the Earl.

“Come along, Windebank.” It was the
King, and he was laughing. “You cannot keep the prettiest girl in the room all
to yourself.”

It had the manner of being a command,
and one which neither Calista or the colonel could ignore. She nodded to the
Earl shyly, and they began to dance. She could only feel relief that it was not
a waltz. The idea of the awful Garton touching her as the colonel had was
horrendous to her. Nevertheless she felt as if he leered over her during the
times when he did have to take her hand in his.

“Need to talk to you later,” he said in
staccato tones whenever they were close enough.

“I am afraid I will be attending Lady
Bedlington most of the evening,” said Calista. It was a lame excuse, but the
only one she could think of at the time.

“Need to talk to her too. Clear this
thing up once and for all. Realise I came on a bit strong. You’re young and
need to be guided by a man. Will do right by you. Don’t worry.”

If it was an apology, it did nothing to
stem her fears. Nothing that the Earl could do would be right by Calista. It
was not just her love for the colonel that prevented her from liking him. It
was a deep and abiding distaste for the Earl that had nothing to do with her
feelings for any other man.

She was extremely grateful when the
dance ended and another man asked her to dance. She said yes without really
caring who he was. As long as he was not the Earl.

Once or twice during the next few
dances, she glanced across and saw Lady Bedlington and the Earl involved in intense
discussions. He would walk away, then return, seeming to berate Her Ladyship
about something. The colonel danced with a couple of other women, but he too
kept looking towards his great aunt and Garton were talking.

Eventually, and with great relief,
Calista found herself dancing with the colonel again. “I am afraid,” she said.
They were dancing a quadrille, so there was not much chance to speak more than
a few words.

“Do not be.”

The Earl of Garton had moved away from
Lady Bedlington and was involved in deep discussions with the King.

“He will not take no for an answer.”

“He will have to eventually. I have told
you, I will protect you.”

Calista stiffened, and almost lost where
she was in the dance. Nothing more was said until it ended, at which point both
she and the colonel were summoned by the King. Lady Bedlington was also called
over.

“Now let us sort this out,” said the
King. “We are aware that Garton here is very taken with this young lady, but
that she has refused him.”

Everyone stopped to listen.

“That is true,” said Lady Bedlington,
when no one else spoke.

“Then it is your job to make her see
sense, Lady Bedlington. We approve the match. The Earl wants the match.”

“Surely,” said the colonel, “Miss
Haywood’s own feelings on the matter should be taken into account.”

“She will be a countess. The girl would
be silly to refuse. Now, Miss Haywood,” said the King. “I realize that it is
the fashion for young women to appear reluctant, but the Earl is a good catch
and we approve. You are not going to disagree with your King, are you?”

“I…” Calista felt as if the room swam
around her. If the King were ordering her to marry the Earl and she refused,
what might the consequences be? “I do not love him.”

The King laughed. “Such things come
after marriage, child. Now, can we assume this is settled?”

“No,” said the colonel. “No, Your
Majesty, we most certainly cannot assume it is settled.”

“You are disobeying me?” said the King.

“No, not at all, Your Majesty. You know
that I trust your judgement in all things. But … I had not planned to announce
this yet, but you have rather forced my hand.”

“Come on man, speak, speak. Announce
what?”

“Miss Haywood has already agreed to
become my wife. Is that not so, my love?”

The room really did spin then. Calista
opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. She hardly knew how to reply.
She could not denounce him as a liar in front of the entire Court, and yet she
did not know how legally binding his announcement was. Did it mean they really
had to get married? Or was it merely to buy time, so that Garton would lose
interest? She wanted to be married to him, but he had effectively fallen on his
sword for her, giving up his independence. How could she let him do that?
Especially if he was not in love with her.

“Yes, that is correct,” said Lady
Bedlington, when Calista did not say anything. “It was supposed to be a secret,
for now at least. My great nephew has indeed asked for and received a promise of
marriage. I tried to warn him that Miss Haywood is very young and should be
allowed to have her first season in London. But what can one say when two
people are so clearly in love and so clearly suited to each other?”

“Is this true, Miss Haywood?” asked the
King. That was when Calista realized he was not nearly as stupid as people
thought.

“Yes,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
She was lying to the King, and deep down she wondered if it were possible to be
executed for such a lie. “Yes, it is true.”

“You love the colonel?”

“Yes.” That at least was not a lie, and
judging by the King’s reaction he did not doubt her words.

“Well, this calls for a celebration!
Hard luck, Garton, but a promise is a promise and I am sure you would not wish
these young people to renege on it.”

“I can do no more than congratulate
you,” said Garton. He smiled, but his eyes were hard and cold. It sent a shiver
of apprehension down Calista’s spine, but that was as nothing compared to the
momentous announcement the colonel had just made to save her from marriage to
the Earl. She wanted to speak to him alone, to tell him that he need not keep
his promise, but it was impossible. People flocked around them, urged on by the
King, wishing them luck and happiness. Some men made risqué jokes to the
colonel. All the time he was watching her face. She was supposed to look happy.
She knew that. And under any other circumstances, the idea of being married to
the colonel would be wonderful. Instead she felt as if her life had fallen
apart.

She loved him with all her heart, but he
did not love her. She was still convinced that he had only intended to offer
her such protection as was offered to women of low virtue. Yet in front of the
King and the entire court he had announced his intention to marry her. She had
to find a way to set him free, otherwise he would spend the rest of his life
resenting her.

“Well,” said Lady Bedlington as they
rode back home in the early hours of the morning. “That should give the whole
of London something to talk about. You certainly know how to get everyone’s
attention, Brook.”

“It will be a nine day wonder, I am
sure,” said the colonel. He was looking at Calista, who had barely been able to
speak since the announcement.

“They will expect a wedding,” his great
aunt said pointedly.

“And they will get a wedding.”

“So when is the happy event to take
place?”

“As soon as possible. Do you not think
so, Calista?”

“Surely you did not really mean it,” she
said. Her throat was so constricted she could barely say the words.