Kate scowled as she greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.
Adam stood and watched as she tried to tie the ribbons of her cloak.
“Let me do that,” he said gently. Their hands met and he forgot this morning’s anger.
“Do you remember the first time we met and I helped you tie some ribbons? I thought you were a gorgon, but then I discovered you were Tom’s sister.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t look like your brother, Kate, but last night when you were laughing I could see Tom in you.” He smiled ruefully. “We really shouldn’t fight. I promised your brother that I would make sure you were safe. Don’t condemn me for taking that promise seriously.”
Katherine dropped her eyes. “I’ll try not to. I know you mean well—I’m just not used to obeying order s!”
“Is that what they sound like? I’m sorry. Let’s make a bargain. I will try to sound less peremptory if you will make an effort to meet me halfway when I am doing my best to look after you. Agreed?”
SYLVIA ANDREW
Lord Calthorpe’s Promise
SYLVIA ANDREW
taught modern languages for years, ending up as a vice principal of a sixth-form college. She lives in Somerset with two cats, a dog and a husband who has a very necessary sense of humor and a stern approach to punctuation. Sylvia has one daughter living in London, and they share a lively interest in the theater. She describes herself as an “unrepentant romantic.”
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
June 1815
Adam Calthorpe stood in the doorway of the Duchess of Richmond’s ballroom and surveyed the scene. The Duchess had spared no effort to make this ball one of the season’s outstanding events, and it looked as if she had been successful in spite of considerable competition. Ever since the Duke of Wellington, Commander-in-Chief of the Allied armies, had made the Belgian capital his headquarters, pleasure seekers from all over Europe had been gathering to enjoy the brilliant social life to be found there, and for weeks Brussels had been a whirl of parties, concerts, dances, picnics, musical rides and a host of other entertainments. Adam wondered briefly how long it would last…
With an effort he dismissed all thought of the worrying news coming in from the French border. Time for that later. He and the others were here to spread confidence, to reassure. He looked down the ballroom, and smiled. Everything seemed to be as usual in the Duchess’s ballroom. Tom Payne was galloping down the country dance set with more enthusiasm than grace, Ivo Trenchard was leaning over the beautiful wife of a Belgian diplomat as if she were the only woman in the world for him. As she was, thought Adam cynically, for the next half-hour. They were all, so to speak, on duty—detailed to represent the Duke’s staff at the ball—and were all wearing full dress uniforms. It was a very hot evening. Adam felt uncomfortable enough in his high stock and black cravat, his scarlet and gold lace, Tom’s face was shining with his exertions, but Ivo looked as cool and controlled as ever in his magnificent Hussar uniform. All the same, that fur-trimmed pelisse must be unbearably warm. Even as Adam looked, Ivo offered his arm to the lady and they walked out through the long windows into the garden…
‘Lord Calthorpe!’
Adam turned. An elderly lady in a blaze of diamonds caught his arm anxiously. Adam took the claw-like hand and kissed it. As he straightened up he smiled reassuringly. ‘How may I help you, Countess Karnska?’
‘The Duke. He is not here?’
‘Not yet, Countess. But you know how much his Grace likes dancing. He’ll be here presently.’
‘But what does it mean that he is late? Is it true what they are saying? That Bonaparte has crossed the Belgian border? Is the Duke aware of this? Should we leave Brussels while we can?’
Mentally cursing the busybodies who ferreted out the latest news from the frontier and spread it among the anxious populace, Adam smiled again and said, ‘You may be sure, Countess, that the Duke is fully aware of the situation. But there is really no cause for alarm, I assure you. Brussels is in no danger.’
‘It’s all very well to say so, milor’.’ The Countess had been joined by her son, a florid gentleman in a puce coat. ‘But Bonaparte is a genius. A genius! And, as far as I know, the Duke of Wellington has not yet ever faced him in battle. How can you be so sure?’
‘Comte, Napoleon Bonaparte may be the genius you say he is, but I fancy the Duke has his measure. You and your mother should forget Bonaparte and enjoy the ball. The Duke has everything in hand. Now, may I fetch you some wine, Countess? You will see his Grace very soon, I promise you. He is merely dining late.’
Adam fetched some wine for the two guests, and then made his escape. He hoped he knew his duty, but enough was enough. The air in the ballroom was stifling, and the thought of even two minutes of reassuring yet another aristocratic visitor, who had come to enjoy the brilliant social life in Brussels and had stayed to regret it, appalled him. In the past hour he had had a dozen such conversations and for the moment he was tired of concealing his own anxieties.
He saw that Ivo and his lady had returned to the ballroom and decided to have some air himself. But even out in the garden at ten o’clock at night it was still very warm, with not the slightest hint of a breeze. Adam stood watching the dancers for a while through the wide glass doors. It was a splendid sight, dominated by the scarlet and gold of uniforms, the ladies in their light muslins and silks fluttering like moths around them. But the laughter was more highly pitched than was normal, and more than a few of the faces round the ballroom were anxious.
For all his reassuring words to the Countess, Adam knew the situation to be even more disquieting than they suspected. News of Bonaparte’s sudden advance against the Prussians had come late to the Allied headquarters, and, far from dining late, the Duke and his aides were closeted in the Richmonds’ library, conning maps and writing sheaf after sheaf of new orders. Soon Adam and others like him would be galloping to deliver them all over the Belgian countryside, wherever the Allied troops were encamped. It looked as if Boney might have stolen a march after all on the Allied Commander-in-Chief…
Oddly, Adam had no doubt of the outcome. After seven years of campaigning with Wellington he had absolute confidence in the Duke’s ability to get the better of his enemy. But the battle ahead was going to be a tough one, of that he was equally certain. He sighed. It would probably be his last. The Army had been good to him—promotion had come quickly, and at thirty he was on the Duke’s own staff, seconded from his regiment with the acting rank of Major. But once this campaign was over, he must think seriously of going back to England. Inheriting his uncle’s estate had been an unexpected piece of good fortune, but it also brought its duties. The estate was large and had been neglected—it would need a great deal of his attention. And it was time he set about finding a suitable bride…
It was certain to feel strange at first, after ten years of marching, fighting and bivouacking all over Western Europe. Ten years ago it had been perfectly in order for a young man with no hint of future riches, no prospect of a title and estates in England, to take a commission in the British Army. Ten years ago he had had two lusty cousins between him and the handsome estate near Bath which was now his. It was ironic that Adam had survived ten years of some of the toughest fighting in Europe,
while his cousins had both died in the pursuit of pleasure at home—one in a brawl outside a tavern in London and the other on the hunting field. Quite unforeseen, Adam had come into a title, as well as a substantial fortune. He owed it to his family to return to England and to look after the inheritance which had so unexpectedly come his way. The excitement of life in the Army, the cameraderie, the fights, the celebrations—one last great battle, and then they would be over.
He turned towards the ballroom again, but stopped short when he caught sight of a young couple coming his way. They were a handsome pair—the lad’s distinctive uniform of the Blues was a wonderful foil for the girl’s white dress and guinea-gold hair. They paused in the doorway… Adam drew a sharp breath and his heart gave a thump. Julia! What in the name of all the gods was Julia doing here? For a moment he couldn’t think—he was transported back ten years to a glade in the woods which surrounded the Redshaws’ estate…
He had a vivid picture of himself at twenty, just down from Oxford and passionately in love with Julia Redshaw. He had met her often in the woods which separated her home from his, the secrecy of their meetings adding to the romance of their affair. It had all been touchingly innocent. But the day came when he had kissed her, kissed her with all the ardour of a lover… They had drawn back from each other, gazing in wonder, mixed with a touch of fear, he remembered. The whirlwind they had raised between them had astonished them both.
It wasn’t surprising that his voice had been a touch unsteady as he said, ‘I…I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Julia.’
Julia’s eyes had sparkled blue fire at him. ‘Don’t you dare say you’re sorry, Adam Calthorpe!’ she had said. ‘How could anyone be sorry about a…a kiss like that? To know that we love each other like that? I’m not sorry! Kiss me again, Adam!’
Adam smiled. At twenty he had been so serious, such an idealist! He remembered feeling slightly shocked, saying, ‘N…No. Not again. Not before you’ll say that you’ll marry me.’
That was when disillusionment had set in. Julia’s eyes had widened and their sparkle diminished. ‘Marry you? Why?’
‘Well, of course we must marry! It’s what we’ve always wanted…isn’t it? I know I fell in love with you the minute we met. Are you saying you don’t love me after all?’
‘No, no! I do, I do!’ She had flung her arms round his neck. ‘You know I do!’
How hard it had been to ignore those arms! But he had put her gently aside. ‘Well, then…?’
‘But marriage is something different. I couldn’t possibly marry you, Adam. What on earth should we live on? No, no, when I get married it will be to someone rich!’
The memory of his disbelief was still surprisingly strong. But he hadn’t been able to move her. She had remained as affectionate as ever but adamant. Julia Redshaw was determined to marry into a fortune, and though she loved Adam Calthorpe as much as it was in her to love anyone, she was not going to change her mind. She would not even promise to wait. In one short summer Adam Calthorpe lost his love and his ideals, and grew up. He refused to stay and watch while the love of his life pursued her goal of marrying a wealthy man. Instead, he had persuaded his uncle to buy him a commission in the Army, and had left England. It had been his good fortune that the regiment he had chosen eventually turned into one of the crack fighting machines in the Peninsula…
He stole another glance at the girl in the doorway. How stupid of him! This couldn’t possibly be Julia. This girl was hardly more than seventeen, and Julia was only three years younger than he. Julia would be twenty-seven now, certainly a married woman, no doubt a wealthily married woman. He shook his head, impatient with his own folly. How odd that the sight of guinea-gold hair, a tumble of curls over a heart-shaped face, still had the power to disorient him! He would have sworn he had forgotten Julia Redshaw. Certainly, for the past six or seven years, he had seldom given a thought to the girl whose rejection had first sent him into his present career.
He smiled wryly. How oddly it had all turned out! Would it have made a difference if Julia and her father had known that Adam would one day step into his uncle Calthorpe’s title and riches? Hardly! Time waited for no one, and ten years would have been a long time for a girl of seventeen to wait! He himself had changed in those years. He was no longer the hot-headed romantic who had joined the Army in despair when Julia Redshaw had rejected him. He had since enjoyed several quite lively affairs, with no thought of marriage on either side. And now, at thirty, he was all set to look for a wife with whom he hoped to enjoy a more mature relationship, with less passion and more sense! There would be affection, he hoped, and respect, but not the headlong folly of that first love. Julia Redshaw would remain in the past and he would find a modest, well-bred girl to take her place—in his life, if not in his affections.
He watched the golden-haired girl floating away on the arm of her partner, and felt a last momentary pang. Then he shook his head and made for the ballroom again.
He was met at the door by Lieutenant Tom Payne. The country dances were finished and Tom was alight with excitement.
‘I say, sir, isn’t this a splendid do? What a send-off for the troops, aye!’
Adam smiled. It was impossible not to smile at Tom. Six feet tall, fair hair that was usually falling over one eye, fresh-faced and full of enthusiasm, he reminded Adam of a large puppy and aroused in him the same amused affection, tempered with respect for his qualities as a fighting man. Tom had been a member of Adam’s company ever since Spain, and his devotion to Adam was second only to his devotion to life in the Army generally.
Adam asked, ‘Any news, yet?’
‘No, I’ve just been to enquire. The Beau is still stuck in his papers with De Lacey and the others. Lord, I wish they’d get on with it.’
“‘The Beau” is no way to refer to our revered Commander-in-Chief, you graceless young dog! How ready are you to ride off when the orders do appear? I can see you’re dressed as unsuitably as I am for a swift ride through the night.’
‘It won’t take me long to change, I promise you. What about you, sir?’
‘It might take me a fraction longer, but I’ll manage. I wish the Duke had chosen someone else to do his entertaining for him, I can’t say I’ve enjoyed it.’ There was a short silence as they paused to regard the dancers circling round.
Then Tom Payne said, ‘I know I have to leave the Army after this is all over. But I’m not looking forward to it. It’ll all seem a bit tame after Spain and now here. Y’can’t hunt and shoot all the time, and what else is there at home?’
‘You and the Army might have been made for each other, I agree. But your grandfather’s death was bound to put an end to it all, Tom.’
‘That’s true! I should have gone back months ago. There’s the estate, and there’s my sister, too. Heaven knows what would happen to her if I left her to herself. What she needs is a husband, of course.’
Adam laughed. ‘That’s a coincidence! I have just been deciding that I need to settle down and look for a wife!’
‘You’re not thinking of leaving the Army, are you sir?’ Tom’s face was a picture of astonishment. ‘Not when you don’t have to?’
‘But I do have to. You’re not the only one with responsibilities, Lieutenant! And I’m a good bit older than you. No, we shall have one last glorious fling, and then we shall both knuckle down to a sober, industrious life at home!’ He laughed at the expression of disgust on Tom’s face. ‘It won’t be so bad. And you know, Tom, once we’ve settled Napoleon Bonaparte once and for all, life in the Army in peacetime could get very dull.’
‘There’ll always be a fight somewhere, sir! You know I’m not very good with words, but I’ve never been as happy as I am now. I’ve never fitted in anywhere as well as I fit in here.’
Adam looked at his junior. Tom was right. By temperament and character he was an ideal soldier. Whether he would have reached the top was more questionable. He was a man of action, not of thought. In battle there was no be
tter fighter, no one more daring, or more loyal. But inactivity bored him, and when he was bored he tended to get into mischief. During quieter periods in Portugal and Spain, Adam had more than once been forced to defend Lieutenant Payne against a charge of misconduct—usually successfully, for everyone liked Tom. What would happen when he was forced to lead the quieter life of a country gentleman? The high spirits and daring, which made him such a brilliant soldier, might well turn to recklessness. Or would he move to London, where he would find even more dangerous adventures? From what Adam knew of his family, there was no one to check him. The two Paynes, brother and sister, were alone in the world. He was so deep in thought that he did not at first hear Tom’s hesitant voice.
‘Sir…sir!’
‘Tom?’
‘Sir, are you definitely leaving the Army?’
‘Quite certainly.’
‘Sir, may I ask something? If you don’t like it, you only have to say no…’
Adam knew that pleading tone. Tom was about to ask something outrageous. ‘Out with it!’ he said with a resigned smile. But even he was not prepared for quite how outrageous Tom’s request would be.
‘Sir, if you liked the idea…I mean, if you are really looking for a wife… Would you…would you consider my little sister? I’d like nothing better for her than to marry you.’
Adam was speechless with astonishment. ‘Tom! Are you out of your mind?’
Tom’s desperation gave him the courage to pursue his goal. ‘Oh, I realise that you would need to meet her before you considered such a thing. But…but…if…if you liked each other… And you did say that you wanted to marry… And as sisters go, she’s not at all bad. She’s fun to be with, and she is very good-tempered and…and patient. Usually. She’s had a rough time these past years with my grandfather being ill, and me away in Spain. And she needs someone—someone like you, to look after her!’
Sylvia Andrew Page 1
