Protection (9 page)

Feeling a certain affinity with the King’s mistress, Lisa had made discreet enquiries
before her visit, wanting to know what had happened to the woman with whom William
had cohabited for twenty years. She’d been saddened to learn the self-titled Mrs Jordan,
an Irish actress, had been put aside when the then duke’s financial needs had forced
him to seek a wealthy heiress for a wife long before he was heir to the throne—one
willing to accept the ten
illegitimate children he adored as part of their household. That Adelaide had welcomed
them into her home was considered testament to the lady’s virtuous nature. Along with
her determination to restore the English Court’s reputation to one of piety and conservatism,
she channelled her energies into various charitable pursuits.

“Do be wary, Lady Anneliese,” the Queen warned when Lisa shyly told her about her
particular area of charitable interest. “While an admirable cause, it is hardly a
suitable charity for a lady of refinement to attach her name.”

“I appreciate your concern, Your Majesty,” Lisa said, cautiously defending her stance.
“But many young women in service are subject to dreadful abuse. Then there are the
girls taken off the street and forced into a life of prostitution from which there
is little to no hope of escape, a practice virtually condoned by our current system
of laws.”

The Queen tutted. “Come now. A Christian nation would never allow such a travesty
to prevail.”

“But it does.” Lisa forgot herself, and spread her hands in her enthusiasm for the
topic. “The age of consent for girls is ten. The punishment for rape when the victim
is a commoner is a fine paid to the girl’s family. A
fine
, Your Majesty, one rarely enforced and certainly not if the perpetrator of the crime
is a member of the gentry.”

Queen Adelaide didn’t respond straight away, taking a moment to sip her tea from a
fine bone china cup.

“It is considered the responsibility of penitent gentlemen
to make amends for their actions by supporting such causes. Ladies are not supposed
to be aware of such things, and if we become
aware, we are to leave it to those in power to deal with.”

“But they’re not
dealing with it,” Lisa said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “The system
weighs too heavily in favour of the men who find enjoyment in bedding young girls.”

“You go too far, Lady Anneliese.” The Queen eyed her sternly. “This is a matter for
the Church and, if absolutely necessary, the House of Lords to deal with. What you’re
advocating is major reform, and one must be careful reform does not lead to revolt.”

“Surely, revolt is more likely to happen where there is no reform?” Lisa asked. “My
hope is to bring awareness of this dreadful problem to those with the power to change
the laws that underpin it.”

“Young ladies should occupy their time with acquiring a husband, the raising of children,
and
suitable
charitable pursuits, not the moral governance of an empire.”

“But who will speak up for these girls?” Lisa put her teacup down and sat forward.
“They are powerless to help themselves.”

“I’m sure there are any number of respectable roles they could choose rather than
embracing a life of licentiousness.”

Lisa wanted to argue that a ten- or twelve-year-old girl—or even twenty-year-old woman—forced
to work in a brothel, or a maid raped and impregnated by her gentleman employer, could
hardly be accused of embracing
their tragic circumstances. But she tempered her words with a sigh.

“Thank you for your counsel, Your Majesty. I will endeavour to be discreet in my efforts
to assist those girls who have
not
chosen such a life but had it forced upon them.”

The Queen eyed her shrewdly. “It would seem your experiences have affected you profoundly,
Lady Anneliese. If you feel you must
act upon the dictates of your conscience, I recommend you exercise caution. There
are those members of the upper
ton
who would delight in seeing you stumble.”

“But why?” Lisa had heard as much from Rebecca and Margaret, and she found the idea
perplexing. “They don’t even know me.”

“I’m afraid when one has beauty, position, and wealth—not to mention the heart
of a particularly handsome and eligible young man—envy is unavoidable.”

Lisa cringed at the knowledge the Queen must know the story behind her betrothal to
Nathaniel.

“I thought marrying for love was frowned upon by the
ton
.”

“It might appear that way.” The regal lady’s tone was wry. “But while forming an alliance
that is financially, socially, and politically advantageous is one’s undisputed duty,
it isn’t possible to completely stifle the desires of the heart. You, my dear, have
managed something few members of our class or gender ever achieve—a romantic attachment
with a highly suitable candidate. Although my husband would prefer you aimed a little
higher.”

“Becoming a marchioness is more than enough for me, Your Majesty.”

“Your willingness to forgive is admirable, Lady Anneliese.” The Queen’s expression
sobered. “A young woman who has been so thoroughly compromised has little choice in
the matter, but it is good to see you embracing your Christian duty.”

“My duty to marry the man who took advantage of me?”

Her Majesty nodded, and Lisa struggled to maintain a respectful tone.

“While Lord Marsden sincerely regrets his actions, his intention was to protect me.
He treated me with kindness and respect. I wouldn’t be marrying him otherwise.”

“Wouldn’t you?” The Queen arched a brow. “Beware of indulging in excessive wilfulness,
my dear. It has been many a maiden’s downfall, and I fear you are highly prone. His
Majesty harbours similar concerns.”

“I regret having to disappoint His Majesty, but in my heart, I feel I am married to
Lord Marsden already.”

“The justification of many a mistress,” the Queen said flatly, and Lisa winced. “I
wouldn’t worry, if I were you.” Her Majesty’s expression softened. “I’m sure His Majesty’s
pique will be forgotten . . . eventually. Just don’t forget to call one of your sons
after him.”

Lisa looked forward to bearing Nathaniel’s children, but her smile faded when she
saw the sadness in the older woman’s eyes. Despite being chosen for the purpose of
providing her husband with an heir, Queen Adelaide had been tragically unable to do
so. Her first babe, a daughter, had arrived prematurely, two more girls died during
their first years of life, and the twin boys she had delivered eight years prior to
her husband’s coronation had been stillborn. At forty, and with the King now sixty-seven,
the likelihood of her bearing him an heir seemed slim.

“I will pray our Heavenly Father blesses Lord Marsden and your union with healthy
children.”

The Queen’s tone was without rancour, and Lisa thanked her for her kindness. She almost
blurted they would probably wait a while, as Nathaniel had said he was keen for them
to enjoy some time together before starting a family. But the comment would have been
insensitive and raised questions as to how a deliberate ordering of events was possible.

Gentlemen were not supposed to deny their wives the opportunity to become with child,
and young ladies were most certainly not supposed to be aware of methods that put
the timing of their confinements into their own hands.

“Typically, I would consider it my duty to instruct you in the behaviour expected
of a young bride by her husband on their wedding night.” The Queen raised the topic
Lisa had suspected might be on the agenda, and her shoulders hunched. “But I gather
it’s more than a little late for that particular conversation?”

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.”

“In that case, I shall dispense with the advice I usually impart—that if one finds
one’s husband disagreeable or the execution of one’s duty unpleasant, one should lie
back and think of England.” The queen’s tone was exceedingly dry, and Lisa’s gaze
shot to her face. “Considering Lord Marsden’s undeniable appeal, not to mention the
previous nature of your association, I don’t believe focusing on your duty to king
and country will be necessary. In fact, I imagine you shall much prefer to lie back
and think of your husband.”

Lisa’s smile when she left the palace was bittersweet. While she was looking forward
to doing exactly what the great lady had suggested, she would actually prefer taking
a less passive role.

Chapter 9

Champion

“Any word of Edgeley?”

Nathaniel drew Hugh aside, not wanting his father or Sir George to overhear the conversation.

“Not yet, but he must have seen the papers. He’s made himself scarce, but whether
that’s due to your threats or because he’s avoiding his creditors . . .” Hugh shrugged.
“One thing is certain, his gambling is getting out of hand. Not unlike someone else
we know.”

The two men exchanged looks.

“Do you think Edgeley’s in contact with Copeland?”

“I doubt it. The consensus is Copeland’s long gone. America, Australia, the West Indies.
He’d be a fool to remain in England.”

Nathaniel’s fists clenched. “A part of me wishes he had, so I could beat him senseless
for what he put Lisa and her father through. But since that’s not an option, I’ll
have to be content with making sure she is never put at risk again.”

“Speaking of risk, is she still determined to visit a house of mercy?”

“There’s a misnomer if ever I’ve heard one,” Nathaniel muttered. “I’ve had my man
look into the various female penitentiaries in the city, and you were right. They’re
the last
places I’d allow Lisa or Rebecca to visit.”

“I’d heard they were cheerless places, but I didn’t realise the women were harshly
treated.”

Nathaniel grimaced. “Not as harshly as they were in their previous lives, but they
don’t call them ‘penitents’ for nothing. It’s a sordid business, one I would rather
our ladies knew nothing about.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“True.” Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck, his guilt never far from the surface.
If supporting her in this endeavour was part of
his
penance, he would endure it with as much stoicism as he could muster, but not to her
detriment. He was determined to keep her safe, even if that meant protecting her from
her own compassionate nature.

“She agreed to wait until after we’re officially betrothed to pursue the matter.”

“Which means your time is up.” Hugh smiled, but Nathaniel was unable to muster one
in response. The King was supposed to announce his betrothal to Lisa at the ball they
were to attend that evening, but he had his doubts it would occur. If the sovereign
reneged on his commitment to honour Lisa’s wishes regarding her choice of spouse,
then preventing her from visiting a charity home would be the least of his concerns.

“I wouldn’t worry.” Hugh clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. “Anneliese seems a stalwart
sort, not easily influenced by promises of grandeur. If she hasn’t changed her mind
about wanting to marry you by now, I doubt she’s going to. You’ll end up together
one way or another.”

“It’s the ‘other’ I’m worried about.”

“On the bright side,” Hugh added, his tone droll. “If the worst happens, and the two
of you are banished from polite society, you could stop fretting about the
ton’s
expectations and live as you please. From what I’ve observed, I think Anneliese might
prefer it.”

“You’ve noticed the change in her demeanour?”

“It’s difficult to miss. She seems . . .”

“Reserved? Anxious? A far cry from the effervescent girl who took to being my mistress
with aplomb?”

Hugh eyed Nathaniel ruefully. “You
have
calmed her fears in regards to your expectations for once you are wed?”

“I’ve tried.” Nathaniel grimaced. “But the more I assure her I have no intention of
treating her the way I did when she was my mistress, the more she withdraws.”

Hugh swore, earning a surprised look from both Nathaniel’s father and Sir George.

“My apologies.” He bowed his head in their directions before turning on his friend,
his voice low but determined. “For an intelligent, educated fellow, Nate, you can
be a right idiot.”

“In what way?”

“I thought you’d come to your senses and recognised that a lady can be both virtuous
and appreciate the pleasures of the flesh, those permissible within marriage, at any
rate.”

“I have.” Nathaniel shrugged, bewildered by his friend’s outburst.

“Have you told Anneliese as much? It sounds to me you’ve been so busy informing her
what you
don’t
expect of her, you’ve forgotten to assure her what
she
can expect from you. She probably thinks you want her to conform to society’s traditional
expectations once you’re wed.”

Nathaniel scowled. Lisa couldn’t possibly be under such a misapprehension. He was
shockingly demonstrative towards, holding her hand whenever he got the chance. Then
there was the kiss they’d shared the night her father had granted them a few moments
together . . . a massive departure from convention. It wasn’t as if he could do more
to show her how he felt. He’d have to find a way to
tell
her.