Loving Protector

by Sally Quilford

  “I can hardly ignore her when she addresses me directly,” said Calista.

  “Oh don’t play the innocent, Calista. You were pushing yourself forward. What did you mean saying that you liked to design buildings? I suppose that was to get the colonel’s attention. Do you really wonder at why he has asked to stay with his aunt? He wishes to be close to me. It is perfect, as if my plan were meant to be.”

  Calista closed her eyes. She would not think about the argument. Not whilst she had the chance to be alone with her own thoughts.

  “I hope I am not interrupting you, Miss Haywood.”

  Her eyes opened, and immediately looked up into the colonel’s grey eyes. “Of course not, colonel. I was just taking the air.”

  “And enjoying the peace and quiet?”

  “Yes. It is not often I have time alone.”

  “I can leave.” He smiled wryly.

  “I did not mean that…”

  “No, I understand what you mean. Your step-sister is … vigorous.”

  Calista laughed. “That is one way to describe her.”

  “And very cruel to you.”

  “I am sure she does not mean half of what she says.” Why Calista felt the need to defend Blanche, she did not know. She supposed family was family. Plus, it was not in her nature to criticize people behind their backs. If she had something to say to Blanche, she said it to her face, as exhausting as that was at times.

  “I wondered if you would like to come and see my house, so that I can share my plans with you so far.”

  “I am afraid my step-mother is out with Blanche,” said Calista. As much as she would have liked to go with him, it would not be proper for her to go out with him alone.

  “I have already considered that. My aunt has agreed to accompany us, so you will be chaperoned. She has asked cook to prepare us a luncheon.”

  “I …”

  “Are you not curious about my plans?”

  “Yes, yes, I am. And I should like very much to see your house and hear about them. Thank you.”

  An hour later, they stood in the hall of a crumbling mansion somewhere in the centre of London. “As you can see it is great need of renovation, hence my presuming on your hospitality, Aunt Agatha.”

  “Yes, your uncle was most neglectful,” said Lady Bedlington. She exchanged a glance with the colonel.

  “Harry has been working on the plans. I hope to have several bathrooms installed, along with plumbing.”

  “It is a beautiful old building, even without renovation,” said Calista. “I agree it is need of updating, but I hope you will not change too much. The Corinthian columns in this hall are very beautiful.” There were four columns of amber marble on each side of the hall, set about six feet apart and leading to the sweeping staircase.

  “I promise I shall not make changes for the sake of change, Miss Haywood. Though I would rather like to open up the drawing room a little more, by combining it with a small sitting room. It is upstairs. Perhaps you will let me show you.”

  “You both may go, Brook,” said Lady Bedlington, “I will seek solace in the study with a glass of sherry. I find stairs too much of a trial nowadays.”

  As far as Calista recalled, Lady Bedlington did not appear to have any problems with the stairs in her own home.

  The colonel gestured for Calista to go ahead of him up the stairs. “Unfortunately much of the wood on the banister is rotted,” he explained. “So I will replace that as soon as possible. Do be careful there.”

  As he spoke, the banister under Calista’s hand crumbled, causing her to lose her balance slightly. She felt his hands on her waist as he caught her and helped her to stay upright. Her back rested against his muscular chest. “I apologise, Miss Haywood, I should have warned you sooner.”

  “I am well now,” she said, realizing that he still held her. He moved his hands away, yet she could still feel the impression of them upon her waist and the warmth of his body against hers. She continued to the top of the stairs, more gingerly this time. She hoped he could not hear her ragged breath.

  “How long have you owned this house?” she asked when she reached the top. She turned around to face him, trying to keep her conversation calm even though she felt anything but.

  “Windebank House has been in my mother’s family for many years,” he replied. “But I did not come here until recently, when my uncle died and it was left to me. He lived mostly in the country, and as a bachelor, when he was in London he stayed at his club rather than here. It was once a great family home and I hope to make it that again.”

  “It already has strong foundations,” said Calista, smiling. “I am sure it will be wonderful once you have finished. But a house needs people to be a home.”

  “Then we are in accordance. That is what I believe. Come, the drawing room is this way.”

  He took her to a room to the left of the staircase and with large sash windows overlooking the square. He threw open the shutters to reveal a room that had once been grand but which, like many of the others in the house, had fallen into disrepair. Dust sheets covered the furniture, and the fire place was full of ashes. She wondered when the house had last had servants. She guessed that the Colonel’s uncle had not wanted to pay them if he never stayed there.

  “What a wonderful room,” she said. The colonel opened a door at the far end, and said, “This is the sitting room I wish to combine with this one.”

  “I hope you do not mind me saying,” said Calista, “But I think this would make a wonderful library. The space is similar to that at Blenheim Palace. Papa took me there when I was a child, and I remember the library. I believe it is over one hundred and eighty feet in length. If you could combine all the rooms on this side of the house …” She stopped. “I apologise, Colonel. I am speaking out of turn. It will also make a very charming drawing room.”

  “Yes, I have seen Blenheim Palace. Vanburgh was a fine architect.” The colonel was looking at her in a way that unnerved her. “I do not think I have nearly enough books to fill such a library, but it sounds very grand.”

  “And perhaps not fitting for a family home.”

  The Colonel folded his arms and leaned against the wall next to the window. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Haywood.”

  “What do you wish to know?” Calista continued to walk around the room, looking at the old wallpaper, and the architecture, feeling shy about the way the Colonel’s grey eyes pierced into her. “My father, as you know, was an architect. He died two years ago. Mama was also an artist. She never showed her work, of course. She died when I was ten. Papa married again when I was fifteen. Evelyn … Mrs. Haywood … has been every bit a mother to me. She too is a talented artist, though she is too modest to say so… I am sorry, Colonel? Have I said something wrong?” Calista had stopped talking long enough to notice that he was frowning.

  “No, nothing wrong at all. Apart from the fact that I have asked you about you and all you have talked about is your father, mother and step-father.”

  “I suppose I am unused to talking about myself.”

  “Yes, Blanche does seem to overshadow everyone else.” His perception only served to unnerve Calista all the more. “Now, please, tell me about you. I know that you paint … a little. And write poetry … a little. You clearly have an eye for architecture. What else should I know about you?”

  “I am afraid you would find me very boring, Colonel. I like to walk through the woods in spring when the bluebells are in bloom. I like to make mince pies at Christmas. Unfortunately I also like to eat them, which means that every January I have to let all my dresses out. I like to read the reports from Parliament, though no doubt that is shocking for a young lady.”

  “Surprising, but not shocking.”

  “You think that women are incapable of understanding politics?”

  “No, I know of women who are more than capable. But young ladies are a different matter. Most of those I’m forced to spend time with would prefer to be told how beautiful they a
re.”

  “I can assure you that you need not waste time on that with me.” Calista smiled.

  “And yet you are very beautiful.”

  “Now you have disappointed me,” said Calista, feeling flustered and trying to make a jest of his words. “Only a few minutes ago you spoke to me as an equal. Now you are treating me as you treat all other women.”

  “I promise you I will never do that, Calista. But we had vowed to always be honest with each other, had we not?” His use of her first name flustered her all the more.

  “I think I promised to be honest with you, Colonel. I do not recall you making such a promise to me.” It seemed to Calista that the air around them crackled with electricity.

  “Then it was very remiss of me. I promise now that I will always be honest with you. And that includes my remark about your beauty.”

  “I think that perhaps we should return to Lady Bedlington. She will wonder where we are.”

  “And there you go again. Turning the conversation to others when I wish to discuss you.”

  “I have told you, Colonel, I am not used to it.”

  “Very well, Miss Haywood, but I do intend to learn everything there is to know about you.”

  “Then there will be nothing left to discover and you will be bored.”

  “With you? I doubt that very much.”

  Calista left the room without answering him. Is this what happened when a man made love to a woman? Despite Blanche’s insistence that Calista monopolized the young men in Derbyshire, she had not had much experience of being wooed. She could only suppose the Colonel was being polite. Or perhaps he was flirting with her because he was bored and had nothing better to do. She imagined that the women he preferred to spend time with were more worldly-wise and sophisticated. She had heard that the ladies who graced the London season were called the Incomparables. She was hardly that.

  Or perhaps he only paid her attention because Blanche was not there. He said that Blanche overshadowed everyone else. Because Calista did not much like her step-sister, she had chosen to see it as a negative comment. Perhaps the Colonel meant it in a more positive way. She hoped not, because she now knew that Blanche only intended to use him to make other men jealous. Insisting to herself that it was the only reason she did not want the Colonel to like Blanche, she carried on downstairs to go in search of Lady Bedlington.

  They ate their luncheon in a small dining room at the back of the house. “I am afraid,” said the Colonel, “that the main dining room is not fit for company as yet.”

  “It is a good job I agreed to put you up, Brook,” said Lady Bedlington. “Where on earth were you planning to sleep?”

  “Harry and I have slept in worse places. But we were going to stay at the club. When I realized you were in town, Aunt Agatha, I knew you would give us shelter.”

  “Is that the only reason you decided to stay in my house?” Lady Bedlington’s eyes twinkled, and for the first time, Calista noticed how much alike Great Aunt and Great Nephew were. Lady Bedlington was handsome in the way a man was rather than a lady, and she had the same grey eyes.

  “Of course.”

  “So, Miss Haywood,” said Lady Bedlington. “What would you do to my great nephew’s house? Apart from knocking it all down and starting from scratch, which I feel may be a better idea. His uncle never did take care of this house.”

  “I think it is a wonderful house,” said Calista. “Though I fear I may have suggested a rather expensive renovation upstairs. A library to rival that in Blenheim Palace.”

  “Oh that caused a scandal. Not the library particularly, but the palace. You are aware perhaps that the first Duke of Marlborough, John Churchill, was given the house by Queen Anne, who was great friends with his wife, Sarah Churchill. Then they had a falling out and Her Majesty refused to continue paying for the building project. The Churchills had to go into exile.”

  “Ah, so that was a ploy by Miss Haywood to force me out of the country,” said the Colonel.

  “You have been out of the country too often and too long,” said Lady Bedlington. Then, as if something else had occurred to her, she said, “You know that the Duke of Midchester is in town and that he has a new favourite, do you not?”

  “Really?” For reasons Calista could not fathom, the Colonel seemed to be on his guard.

  “Yes, young Ronald Purbeck. A distant cousin, I believe. They say that His Grace will name Purbeck as his heir.”

  “He may do as he wishes with his titles and lands,” said the Colonel. His lips set in a thin line.

  “Oh but Brook…” Lady Bedlington stopped and glanced at Calista. “I am sure Miss Haywood will soon be bored if we discuss people she does not know.”

  “Please do not mind me,” said Calista. “I realize you have not seen each other for a while.”

  “No, we must not exclude you,” said the Colonel.

  “I should like, if you do not mind, Lady Bedlington to know more of the squabble between the Churchills and Queen Anne. If that is not presumptuous of me.”

  The rest of the luncheon was spent in lively conversation about the trials and tribulations of the first Duke and Duchess of Marlborough and the building of Blenheim Palace. After lunch, the colonel showed Calista around the rest of the house, outlining his plans for renovation, but always asking her opinion. That too led to lively discussions. She could not remember when she had last enjoyed a day so much. Most of her happy moments were stolen, when she was able to slip out of Haywood Manor and go walking alone. In winter, when it was impossible to go outside, days spent in Blanche’s company became unbearable, despite Evelyn’s attempts to pour oil on troubled waters.

  “Thank you for showing me your house,” she said to the Colonel when they travelled back to Lady Bedlington’s home. “I hope I will be able to see it when it is completed.”

  “You will be amongst my first guests,” he promised.

  Blanche and Evelyn had returned home by the time they reached Lady Bedlington’s. They were also accompanied by a young dandy of about twenty. He was handsome in what Calista thought was a rather bland way, and dressed in the height of fashion.

  “Mr. Purbeck,” said Lady Bedlington. “We were just discussing you.”

  Mr. Purbeck bowed. “I hope in good terms, Lady Bedlington.”

  Lady Bedlington did not reply to that. Instead she made the introductions. “You know my nephew, Colonel Brook Windebank, of course.”

  “I have heard of your exploits on the battle field, Colonel,” said Mr. Purbeck. Calista was not sure if she imagined it, but Mr. Purbeck did not seem to like the colonel. “How sorry I was that the war ended before I could do my bit.”

  “I am sure the war’s loss is society’s gain,” said Blanche, fluttering her eyelashes at Mr. Purbeck.

  “No doubt,” said the colonel, with a wry smile.

  “And this,” said Lady Bedlington, “is Miss Haywood.”

  “Charmed, Miss Haywood, I am sure. I have been hearing all about you from your charming sister.” Calista did not like to imagine what Blanche had said to Mr. Purbeck, but she took the compliment at face value, curtseying to him.

  “We met Mr. Purbeck this morning,” said Blanche, when they were all seated. “He is in London with his cousin, The Duke of Midchester. The duke has made a great favourite of Mr. Purbeck.”

  “I do not like to boast,” said Mr. Purbeck, “but His Grace finds me indispensible.” All the time he spoke, his eyes were on the Colonel.

  “And yet he is managing without you at the moment,” said Lady Bedlington.

  “What? Oh yes.” Mr. Purbeck laughed awkwardly. “I have heard that you like to tease, Your Ladyship. He would approve, I am sure, of me making sure two ladies returned home safe.”

  “Yes, it must have been treacherous travelling all the way from the next street,” said the Colonel.

  “Unlike you, Colonel, I do not have the benefit of being able to save them from highwaymen.”

  “I am sure you should b
e very brave if you did,” said Blanche. “But the highwayman was not that much of a threat I am sure.”

  Calista, Evelyn and the colonel exchanged glances, each suppressing a grin.

  “I wish to talk of other things,” said Blanche. “Mr. Purbeck, via the Duke of Midchester, has secured us an invitation to Almacks for the Wednesday ball. Sadly only Mama and I may attend, Calista, as it would have been rude to ask the Duke for another invitation when he was so generous. I am not even sure you would benefit from the visit.”

  Almacks was the most prestigious club in London. Unlike most clubs, it allowed both sexes. The female patronesses of the club ruled it with a rod of iron, and the people who were allowed to enter its hallowed halls were strictly regulated. The patronesses also had the power to refuse entry, and met every Monday night to decide who had committed a serious enough social faux pas to be excluded.

  “I am sure,” said the colonel, in a cold voice, “that my Great Aunt has enough influence of her own to secure Miss Haywood an invitation. If she does not, then I do.”

  “Oh no, please, do not bother on my account,” said Calista, her cheeks reddening.

  “Brook is right,” said Lady Bedlington. “I will ensure Miss Haywood goes to the ball.”

  Chapter Four

  “I must take my leave,” said Mr. Purbeck standing up. “I shall look forward to seeing you all on Wednesday night. If I can bear to keep away.” He looked at Blanche as he spoke.

  “Thank goodness he has gone,” said Lady Bedlington.

  “You do not like him?” said Blanche.

  “No, I do not like him. He is a popinjay and a sycophant.”

  “But he is the Duke of Midchester’s favourite,” said Blanche. “He told us all about the quarrel the duke had with his son. Do you know that the son challenged his own father to a duel? It caused such a scandal and his son had to leave the country. After that, the duke cut his son out of the inheritance. Now, it is certain that Mr. Purbeck will be named his successor. He is so handsome, is he not?”