Loving Protector (2 page)

“Do not push your luck, Brook,” said Mr.
Benedict. Calista could not help noticing how easy the two men were together.
“You did rather a lot of that during the war, when all we underlings could do
was follow you.”

“You are wondering are you not, Miss
Haywood, how Mr. Benedict dares to be so familiar with a superior officer?” His
eyes twinkled and his tone was self-deprecating. “He and I shared a lot of
trenches during the war. One soon learns that it is rather dangerous to point
one man out as the leader of the troop. Besides, Harry is a good and honest
friend and we all need that.”

Blanche cut in, “Then I shall always be
honest with you, Colonel. And one day, perhaps I may be allowed to call you
Brook.”

“Blanche!” her mother admonished her.

“And what of you, Miss Haywood?” said
the Colonel. “Will you always be honest with me?”

“I would hope I am always honest,
Colonel.”

“Wait until I tell everyone in London
that we were rescued by a dashing Colonel,” said Blanche, clapping her hands
together.

“I cannot take full credit for that,”
said the Colonel. “Harry was the one who saw you were in danger.” He turned
once again to Calista. “You look troubled, Miss Haywood.”

“I am only thinking that it is sad that
the highwayman has suffered so much he turned to crime. Not that I condone his
actions or have any reason to criticize yours, Colonel. It is just that I have
heard that many soldiers are struggling since the end of the war.”

“Yes, the problem of the returning
soldiers is something we hope to address in Parliament. But be aware that had
we not caught him, in his desperation he might have harmed, even killed, you
all. It has happened too often lately. At the very least he would have taken
all your money and belongings. Then Miss Kirkham would not have her season.”
When his eyes twinkled again, Calista realized that he had heard everything
that went on inside the coach before he opened the door.

“Where are you staying in London?” asked
Mr. Benedict when they were nearing the outskirts.

“Lady Bedlington has agreed to let us
stay with her, and she will introduce the girls to society,” said Evelyn.

“Goodness, is she still alive? I
remember her chasing us off her land in Midchester when we stole some apples.”

“I am hoping she has forgotten,” said
Evelyn. “So please do not remind her.”

“You stole apples? Mama, really,” said
Blanche, blushing. “You shame me in front of the colonel.”

“I assure you, Miss Kirkham,” said
Colonel Windebank, “I have stolen a few apples in my time. It is something all
children do.”

“And soldiers too,” said Mr. Benedict
grimly. The Colonel looked at him and nodded just as grimly. Calista
immediately understood that they too had gone through some very severe
hardships during the war.

“I am sure I never did,” said Blanche.
“But if you say it is permissible, perhaps I shall try it.”

“I do not think it is as forgivable in
an adult. At least not in peace time. We certainly cannot run as fast. Have you
ever stolen apples, Miss Haywood?”

“I’m sure she stole loads,” said
Blanche. “Her father was very poor.”

“And yet we did not have to steal to
eat,” said Calista quietly. Then she smiled, mischievously. “But I have climbed
a few apple trees, Colonel.” She said it more to shock Blanche than anyone
else.

“I am glad to hear it. To be surrounded
by so much virtue can make a man feel inadequate.”

“Perhaps, Colonel, you will call upon us
whilst you are in London,” said Blanche. “I am sure Lady Bedlington would not
mind.”

“Great Aunt Agatha would no doubt be
delighted.”

“Great Aunt Agatha? I had not realized you
and Lady Bedlington were related,” said Evelyn. Calista wondered why he had not
mentioned it when Lady Bedlington’s name was first mentioned.

“Yes, though I have not seen her for
some time. Every time I see her she insists on trying to marry me off.”

“I am sure no one could force you to
marry anyone, Colonel,” said Blanche.

It seemed to Calista that it was about
the most honest thing Blanche had said so far, even if Blanche clearly had her
own ideas about the Colonel’s marital status. She was beautiful enough to
entice him. Whether she would decide the Colonel was a little too far down the
social status was another matter.

They reached Lady Bedlington’s house in
central London by early evening. Her Ladyship had gone out to dinner. The Colonel
and Mr. Benedict said their goodbyes, leaving Evelyn and the two girls to
settle in.

“I will call on you,” Mr. Benedict said
to Evelyn. “If you will permit it, that is.”

“I should like to see you again. Thank
you again for your help, Colonel, Mr. Benedict.” Evelyn curtseyed, closely
followed by the two girls.

“You are most welcome,” said the
Colonel. “I hope we shall see you again.” Calista glanced up at the Colonel
surprised to find he was looking at her. “All of you.”

Chapter
Two

“Mama, you are not to see that man
again. I forbid it.”

“Blanche, you are in no position to
forbid me to do anything. Do remember that you are not yet twenty-one and I am
still your mother.”

Calista gazed out of the window whilst
her step-sister and Evelyn had yet another one of their rows. The square was
coming to life as the trades people arrived with their wares and young ladies
took a walk in the park that decorated the centre. She longed to be out there,
and was indeed wearing her coat in readiness, but Blanche had much to say.

She had hoped that being in London would
at least appease her step-sister, but Mr. Benedict’s familiarity with Evelyn
had infuriated her.

The previous evening had been quiet
enough. Even Blanche was not too silly as to behave badly in front of Lady
Bedlington, whom she relied upon to introduce her to the correct society. She
was also happy with the rooms they had been given, which overlooked the leafy
London square. But when a message had arrived that morning, from Mr. Benedict,
asking if he may call upon Evelyn later that day, Blanche had waited until they
were back up in their own rooms, getting ready to go out for a walk, before
erupting.

“You will not marry yet another
penniless architect,” said Blanche.

“Mr. Benedict is an old friend, Blanche.
I have no intentions of marrying him.”

“I am pleased to hear it. You can do
better.”

Calista was aware that Blanche glanced
at her as she said it, but was in no mood to argue. If Blanche did not
appreciate their surroundings, Calista did. She gazed back at the square,
praying for the argument to end so that she might make the most of the morning.
It seemed to her that every day began with some disagreement. Blanche did not
like her dress. Blanche did not like her breakfast. Blanche did not like Calista
being involved in their entertainments. It was exhausting. Calista closed her
eyes and let the faint breeze from the window cool her brow. It was pointless
getting angry with Blanche, because one could never win the argument.

 “I am rather too old to attract
the attentions of a member of the aristocracy, dearest. But my friends are my
own affair.”

“Father would not be very happy at how
far down we have fallen,” said Blanche.

“Might I remind you, dearest that your
father was not a rich man and that all he did have was entailed away, leaving
us penniless.”

“Father was part of the nobility. A
distant relative of the Duke of Devonshire.”

“Hmm,” said Evelyn.

“Is that true?” asked Calista, when
Blanche had stormed out of the room.

Evelyn came and sat on the window seat
next to her. “Only by marriage and then very distantly. But Cedric rather liked
to play up the connection. He used to tell Blanche that she would one day marry
a Duke.”

“I wish you would not let her speak to
you so unkindly,” said Calista.

“It upsets you to hear anyone being
unkind, dear. I am sorry that our squabbles are spoiling your first full day in
London. Sadly Blanche treats me as her father did, even though she does not
know the reason.”

“What do you mean?” Calista looked at
Evelyn sharply.

“Nothing.” Evelyn looked suddenly very
sad. “She is right. I cannot seem Mr. Benedict again.”

“Why ever not? If you like him and he
likes you.”

“For your sake, dearest.”

“Mine? I would not stop you if you
wanted to marry again.”

“You do know, do you not, that your
father’s estate is only available to me for my lifetime or until I marry again?
Not that I am suggesting Mr. Benedict and I will ever marry. But if I did marry
anyone, I may not be able to take care of you. I would hope I would meet someone
who cares about you as I do, but husbands can be very strange about such
things. Taking on my daughter is one thing, but taking on my step-daughter is
not something I could guarantee.”

“I would not hold you back, Evelyn.”

“I know that. This is why you are so
dear to me.” Evelyn kissed Calista’s cheek. “Sometimes I wish…  Oh never
mind. I am sorry that Blanche treats you so cruelly.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But I can also see what
it costs you to have to stick up for yourself. When I first met you, you were a
bright, cheerful little thing. Now I see sadness in your eyes, especially when
Blanche and I argue.”

“I am just not used to it. Mama and Papa
seldom argued. I suppose being an only child, I was also spared the problems of
sibling rivalry. I just wish Blanche did not hate me so much. When you came to
us, I was so happy that I had a sister at last and now…” Calista’s voice faded
away. She did not really like criticizing Blanche to her step-mother.

When her widowed father had first announced
his intention to marry the widow of an old school friend, Calista, who was
fifteen at the time, had been delighted for him. She had known, of course, that
he had started visiting Midchester a lot after he had attended Mr. Kirkham’s
funeral, but it was a year before he brought Evelyn and Blanche to their home.
As Calista had told Evelyn, she had hoped she and Blanche would be proper
sisters, but Blanche had hated Calista, hated her father, and hated their home.
Blanche’s own father, as Evelyn had pointed out, had filled Blanche’s head full
of her own importance.

Calista’s mother and father had also
nurtured her in a way that gave her confidence, but they had not pretended that
the family were anything other than they were; landed gentry and on the lower
end of the scale at that. Her father, who had a small annuity, had not earned
much as an architect. Her mother had been ill for a very long time and he was
reluctant to leave home, which was why most of his work was done in the
Derbyshire area. By the time he was able to work again, he told Calista,
“Younger men are coming up now, dearest, with newer, fresher ideas. No one
wants your old Papa.” She wished he could have known that Colonel Windebank had
thought of him when looking for an architect. More than that, she wished he had
lived long enough to be able to do it. He was very talented, regardless of what
he said about his age.

Evelyn stroked her hair and said in a
quiet voice, “I understand, dearest. I love my daughter, but sometimes, may God
forgive me, I do not like her very much. She frightens me sometimes. I believe
that she will stop at nothing to get her own way and is willing to tread on
anyone who gets in her path.”

Half an hour later, strolling out in the
sunshine, even Blanche could not spoil Calista’s enjoyment. They were going to
Bond Street to order their new dresses, and whilst Calista would normally
insist she did not care about finery, even she could not deny a sense of
excitement at the thought of owning a fine new ball gown.

“Lady Bedlington said that Bond Street
was built by a syndicate,” said Calista. “It used to overlook open fields. Now
it has many of the fine arts houses, including Sotheby’s.”

“Fascinating,” said Blanche in her usual
bored manner. “But we are going to buy dresses, not antiques. Of course, when I
am married to a rich man, I am sure I shall want to furnish my house
accordingly, and then I’ll worry about fine arts.”

“Do not give your heart to the first person
you meet,” said Evelyn. “You have not appeared in society yet. You may fall in
love with someone without a title, dearest.”

“I do not think so. Lady Bedlington told
me that Colonel Windebank is very rich. Probably one of the richest men in
England. I cannot find a better catch.”

“Perhaps you should let him be the one
to catch you,” Evelyn suggested. “Men do not approve of women who pursue them.
It is not the way a lady should behave.”

“Well of course, Mama, what do you take
me for? However, I noticed that he could not keep his eyes off me in the
carriage yesterday. I believe a proposal will be forthcoming.”

Sometimes Calista wished she had
Blanche’s confidence. Evelyn was quite right about her daughter. She would have
what she wanted and not care who she stepped upon to get it. Given that young
ladies of their time were not allowed to earn money any other way, perhaps
Blanche was more realistic than most. Calista longed to marry someone who loved
her, and whom she loved in return.  Sadly the cold hard truth was if she
did not find a husband, if Evelyn did marry again, she would be left penniless
and alone in the world. That would inevitably happen when Evelyn died, even
though she had many years left yet.

Suddenly the idea of the new dresses
seemed less exciting, because they could be seen as a means of luring a man
into marriage and Calista did not wish to do that. If Evelyn remarried, she
would find some way to support herself. She was good at needlework, so she
could make dresses for the local gentry who were not as well off and could not
afford London fashion prices.

Not one to stay glum for long, Calista
soon became caught up in the excitement of ordering new clothes. Even Blanche
could not spoil it with her barbed comments. “I do not think that colour suits
you,” Blanche said more than once. “You should wear grey to suit your
personality.”

“Blanche…” Evelyn cut in mildly. “You
look very pretty, Calista. That shade of blue suits your eyes.” Then as if she
thought she was being unkind to her daughter, “You look magnificent, Blanche. I
am sure you will break lots of hearts before the season is over.” Blanche did
indeed look very beautiful in a dress of dark red, which contrasted well with
her dark hair and eyes.

“The first heart I shall break will be
the Colonel’s,” Blanche said, loftily. “He is a very handsome man, and I hear
very rich, but whilst we were walking it occurred to me that he does not have a
title. However, I shall find him interesting to practice upon and it will make
other, more important men jealous when they see him making love to me.”

“I am sure it will, dearest.”

With their purchases completed, they
returned to Lady Bedlington’s house, only to find she had visitors. As they
approached the drawing room, they heard Her Ladyship say, “It is most
irregular, Brook.”

“I realize that Aunt Agatha,” said the
Colonel, “but it is how I wish things to be for now.”

“Ah.” Mr. Benedict cut in, with what
seemed to be a warning note in his voice. “I believe the ladies have returned.”

“I have pleasing news,” said Lady
Bedlington, after the greetings were completed and everyone was seated. “My
nephew and his friend, Mr. Benedict will be staying with us for a few days.”
Lady Bedlington was an elderly woman of indeterminate age. She was known for
her sharp tongue, but could also be very charming. Calista had liked her
immediately, although their meeting the previous evening had been somewhat
brief.

“I hope we will not intrude upon you,”
said the Colonel.

“Not at all,” said Evelyn. “It is, of
course, her Ladyship’s business whom she invites, but we are all very pleased
to see you again.”

“Yes, I have been hearing about your
adventures,” said Lady Bedlington. “Really what is this world coming to when
three ladies of good standing are assaulted in such a way? They should hang
them all.” Calista could not be certain, but she had the distinct idea that Her
Ladyship was being deliberately provocative rather than saying what she really
believed.

“I fear you will disturb Miss Haywood by
saying so,” said the Colonel. “She is very sorry for the highwaymen.”

Calista blushed, feeling that he was
teasing her. “I only feel, as I told you, Colonel that a man must be very
desperate to turn to crime.”

“I concede that, Miss Haywood. I did not
mean to cause offence.”

 “You are a young woman with a good
heart, Miss Haywood,” said Lady Bedlington, “and I cannot censure you for
that.”

“I too think it is tragic,” said
Blanche. “I imagine the poor man lives in a hovel, without doors or windows.”

“I rather think he would have trouble
leaving the hovel if there were no door,” said Mr. Benedict. When he saw the
flash of anger in Blanche’s eyes, he added hastily, “Forgive me, Miss Kirkham,
I only talk in jest.”

“I am sure you are thought very amusing
amongst your own kind,” said Blanche.

“Blanche,” Evelyn hissed under her
breath.

“My father, Mr. Kirkham, was part of the
nobility,” Blanche said to Lady Bedlington, ignoring her mother.

“Kirkham? Kirkham?” Lady Bedlington
frowned. “I do not believe I am familiar with the Kirkhams. I know your mother,
of course, as one of the Morehamptons. A very fine old family from Midchester.
Do you remember them, Brook?”

“Yes, indeed, though I had not had the
pleasure of meeting Mrs. Kirkham until yesterday.”

“But you had, Mr. Benedict, I am sure.
In fact,” Lady Bedlington smiled and it was very charming, “I remember you both
stealing my apples. Scrumping they call it in Midchester.”

“I am most embarrassed that my mother
did such a thing,” said Blanche.

“Do not be, child. She was young, and full
of high spirits. You may not believe it, but I was young once myself.”