The front door opened. Kitty's father, broad shouldered with graying hair, smiled at the sight of his daughter. “Kitty, it is so good to have you back home. Our driver could not get to you yesterday. After trying several times in vain, he had to turn back.”
She ran to hug Papa, delighted to see him.
Her father looked at the Duchess of Kent's coachman. “Many thanks to you for getting my daughter safely home with not a scratch on her. Well done.”
“My pleasure.” The coachman bowed slightly as he backed away and crossed through the mud.
“Darling, look at you. Not a speck of dirt on you.” He put his arm around her.
As they entered the house, Kitty sneaked a glance back at the coachman as he readied himself with the reins of the horses. “Papa, have you ever carried Mother through the mud?”
“What a question!” the Duke exclaimed.
“Well, have you?”
“I suppose I have ... cannot quite remember it ... but there must have been a time. Go ask your mother.”
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* * *
Chapter Two
As Kitty relaxed in a warm bath prepared by her maid, her sister Margaret peeked into the room.
“What is the princess like? I have seen her only once, from afar, in a carriage.”
“Ah, the princess is the sweetest child, and very good at her artwork. It was much fun, although that Lehzen woman watches me constantly.”
“That is what they say.”
“The poor child, to be surrounded by Lehzen every moment of the day. She may be a princess, but her existence leaves much to be desired.”
Margaret giggled. “I know what you mean.”
“And a little while ago ... the duchess's coachman ... well, what a rude man.”
“Rude?” Margaret asked, her eyes widening.
“Indeed. His behavior as I got out of the carriage was not gentlemanly.”
“But did I not hear father praising his skill in getting you home? Kitty! Mr. Talbot tried several times to fetch you, but had to turn around each time due to the high winds.”
Remembering the sounds of last night's storm made her shudder. “I much appreciate his skill. Truly I do.” She was shivering in her bath, but she knew it was not from cold. “Shall we converse about this later, Margaret? Right now I want to finish my bath and enjoy breakfast. Afterward we shall talk—there is much to tell—and then I will sketch for myself and perhaps read later on. Mother has no calls planned, I hope?”
“No calls that I am aware of, Kitty. The maid left your dress on the bed. Would you like me to stay and assist and help do your toilette?”
“No, dear. Mother hates when we are late. She enjoys breakfast so. Do not keep her waiting. Go on.”
“As you please. I am quite famished, anyway.” Margaret left in a rush, clearly in a hurry to go eat.
* * * *
By late afternoon, the weather warmed, and the doors—glass paned from floor to ceiling—separating the library from the outdoors were once again opened. Loving spring, Kitty took in a deep breath of the moist, warm air. A soft breeze brushed past her, mingling the fragrance of the young flowers with the smell of freshly baked cake.
Feeling more vibrant than usual, she looked around the familiar library. Although early, the candles had been lit. The amber glow cast shadows against the contrasting darks and lights of the vertically placed books on the wood shelves. The large table by the rose colored couches was covered with delicacies, so she tiptoed over to peek. Small, neatly cut sandwiches, alongside squares of yellow cake, looked especially delicious. Plates of cold meat and bowls of fruit stirred her tastebuds.
Kitty's mother hated the time between lunch and dinner. It had become routine to settle down in late afternoon to informally talk as they enjoyed a little to eat, keeping their hunger at bay until dinner was served.
“What looks good today?” her mother asked as she approached the table, with the familiar sound of her crisp skirts rustling as she walked.
“The vanilla cake looks especially delicious.”
“I can smell it. It must be still warm.”
“Do you know what's odd, Mama?” Kitty asked while eyeing the cake.
“What, my love?” the Duchess inquired, her pretty features enhanced by a smile.
“Although Kensington Palace is home to a future queen, their meals do not seem as delicious as ours or their life nearly as affluent. Is that not odd?”
“Not really. First of all, the young Princess is not yet our Heiress Presumptive. That will only happen once the king has passed on, or if the king's younger brother dies before he does.”
“But surely, with her youth, she will be queen.”
“There is a very good chance of it. But do not forget that if her aunt conceives a child, Princess Victoria moves down in the line of succession.” The duchess delicately picked up a plate.
“Mama, do you really think Adelaide would ... or could have another child?”
The duchess chuckled, selecting some sliced fruit. “Stranger things have happened. But tell me, dear, why do you think they do not eat as well as we do?”
“Because dinner last night was positively simple ... just meat and potatoes.”
“You must remember that although the Duchess of Kent is a duchess, she received that title when she married and owns no land or anything of significance. Her royal rank elevates her, but she is a widow and her funds are meager. Her brother gives her an allowance, they say. The King is not very fond of her from what we hear, but, that is never to be repeated.”
“Oh, dear ... so they treat Victoria's mother as inferior?”
“Most of polite society would not know it ... but, she is an embarrassment,” the duchess explained.
“Mama, the princess already has a master painter. Why must she also have me?”
“I cannot tell you exactly, but I would suspect her mother wants to keep her studious. From what I hear, she has taken to the arts. Perhaps she needs to practice more often. Your father's family has served the royal family for generations. As an English, it is what you were born to do. We are so proud you have been selected to teach her.”
“Yes, it is what I was born to do.”
“The dear princess leads a lonely life. From what you tell me, she enjoys the lessons you give her.”
Did the princess have any real comfort? Was Victoria aware of the king's dislike of her mother? What a difficult situation! As Kitty contemplated what her mother had said, she heard laughter in the hallway. Papa and her brother Robert entered the library with Margaret. Her youngest sister, Matilda, trailed after them.
* * * *
“Could we sketch the trees? I would love to go outside today,” Princess Victoria pleaded.
Baroness Lehzen stood and spoke firmly. “If the evening is fine later, perhaps the family will sit outside.”
“Oh, dear Lehzen, why do I have to stay indoors?”
“Later you will ride your pony.”
Kitty observed the exchange between the princess and her governess. Knowing Victoria was disappointed, Kitty suggested she sketch.
“Yes, let's. May I sketch you?”
A small sigh escaped Kitty's lips. “Very well, then. I shall sit and you can sketch me.” Although this wasn't what Kitty had planned for the lesson, she realized she should entertain as well as teach the young child. It didn't appear Victoria had much freedom. Smiling, Kitty sat and fluffed out the bottom of her pale yellow dress. “How do I look?”
“Lovely, but I shan't be drawing the bottom of you, Lady Kitty. I will sketch your portrait.”
“How does my face look, then? Should I take a peek at myself before you begin?” Kitty teased.
“You look perfect as you are. Just remain seated and I will set up my paper and choose the pencils.”
“What type will you choose?”
“For your face and hair I shall use some soft leads.”
Kitty beamed with pride
for her pupil. “Excellent.”
The delicate princess selected her pencils with care. Her creamy skin reflected a pale pink flush, and her eyes were bright and radiant. Although she wasn't a classic beauty, she was lovely to look at. Her movements were graceful, making her look like a beautiful doll in her soft, white gown.
Her face grew intent as she sketched. The sun peeked in the tall windows, and shadows played behind the pink chintz curtains, as the spring breeze came in through the opened window.
“I do love the days when you visit, Lady Kitty. I love my math and my dancing, but I think I love art the most.”
“Sketching?”
“And watercolors.”
“It shall be a fine hobby for you. I am busy with it all the time.”
Victoria's gentle strokes moved across the paper. There was a gleam in her eye as she glanced up, measuring her subject's look and then returning to her paper to capture her image.
Relaxing, a brief smile touched Kitty's lips as the young child passionately drew. The room grew quiet except for the sound of pencil scratching across paper and the occasional rustle of leaves outside.
Eventually Lehzen rose. “It has been almost an hour.”
“How quickly time went!” the princess exclaimed.
“May I see what you have done now?”
“Yes, but just a moment. Let me finish the shadowing under your chin.” Victoria bent to put the finishing touches on her sketch.
“Very well.”
Time seemed to stand still as the princess furiously finished the shadowing. It was evident that she loved doing it.
“Are you finished?” Lehzen inquired.
Leave her alone. Let her play. Kitty gave Lehzen a hard look, and then lowered her eyes in embarrassment. It wasn't her place to interfere.
The princess pulled the paper off the easel. “Done!” She was at Kitty's side in a moment, handing her the drawing. “Look, look.”
Peering down at the sketch, she noted the princess had captured a definite likeness and her contrasting shadows from dark to light were most impressive.
Lehzen came over to take a look.
“Tell me what you think ... both of you, please.”
Lehzen looked at her charge. “I am not an accomplished artist and could not speak with any certainty, but to me it is lovely.”
“Really, Lehzen?”
“Really.”
Victoria looked at Kitty with anxious eyes. “And what do you think?”
“Truly, this is the most wonderful work I have seen you do. I am so proud of you. You have captured my likeness very well.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“Of course not. It is so beautiful, I wish I could bring it home with me.”
“Do you really, really mean that?”
“I do.”
“Then it is yours, Lady Kitty.”
“Your Highness, how thoughtful of you. But you have not even shown it to your mother yet.”
“I shall do another one for her.”
“I cannot accept it. I should not.”
Victoria raced over to a wooden box on a table near the window. She rummaged inside and was back at Kitty's side in a moment, flashing something blue.
“Here is a ribbon. Curl up the picture and tie it so it is not damaged.”
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Kitty said softly, her voice catching. Overwhelmed, she took the light blue ribbon.
“I must go now,” Victoria said, taking Lehzen's hand. “Can we do a watercolor next time you come?”
“Yes, most definitely. A watercolor it shall be.”
A moment later Kitty was left alone, holding a most precious gift, her heart overflowing with an affection she'd never felt before. She would not cry.
Rolling up the sketch, she tied it securely with the ribbon. She would treasure the gift forever. She left the royal apartment and made her way quietly to the familiar back door. She stepped outside into the sunshine.
“A gift?” A man's deep voice jolted her from her thoughts.
She turned to answer. The bright sun forced her to squint ... and then she saw him. The coachman. The dark haired man grinned at her, dressed handsomely in a single-breasted waistcoat.
“Did I startle you, my lady?” A hint of amusement touched his voice.
“A little.”
“Is that a gift you are holding?” he asked again softly.
“Yes, it is.” Why was the coachman so well dressed? “I am awaiting my carriage.”
“It is not here.” He smiled, revealing a quick flash of dimples.
Her heart beat faster. She looked into his eyes, losing track of time. Realizing her palm was wet and she was crushing her picture, she recoiled from him. “Oh, no!” The roll of paper fell to the ground.
The coachman bent to retrieve it and handed it to her. She snatched it from his hand.
“You could say thank you,” he said softly, grinning.
“It is your fault that I dropped it to begin with!”
He gave her a quick look and turned away. “Good day.”
How improper of her! She raced up to him, holding up the hem of her dress. “Wait, coachman!”
He stopped and glanced at her. “Coachman? Hardly.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!” she yelled. She followed after him, not knowing if she was the rude one or if he was. Strangely though, she didn't care. She grabbed his arm to stop him.
He stared at her hand on his sleeve. She removed it. Had she committed a breach of etiquette, or had he?
“Why are you following me? I have no wish to bother you. I was trying to be pleasant, but obviously you are in no mood for it.”
“I am sorry,” she blurted. “I do not know your name.”
“My name? Do you really want to know, or is your guilty conscience bothering you?”
Her lashes lowered as she looked at the ground. She'd apologized. What else could she say?
Finally ... “My name is Grey.”
“Grey, I am sorry, truly, please forgive my outburst. The picture I am holding is a sketch the princess herself did of me. I got flustered because I realized I had crushed it.”
He stared at the white tube with the ribbon on it, and she allowed him to take it. Examining it for a moment, he gazed at her. Instead of speaking, he broke out in another one of those dancing smiles, his eyes crinkling. “I do not think there is any real damage done.”
Relieved he was no longer in a bad temper, she tried to think of a response. “I...” Time froze as she gazed up into his violet-blue eyes. “I am glad ... that...” Unable to form an intelligible sentence, she stopped.
“Yes?”
Trying to recover her composure, she snatched back the picture. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she be civil? One moment she was gazing into his eyes, forgetting everything and the next minute confused. “I am happy the picture is not damaged, as you say.”
“No damage, just a wrinkle. Why do you not open it to make sure?”
“Obviously, I should.” Kitty busied herself untying the small bow and spreading open the paper. Relieved that it was fine—besides the small crinkle—she handed it to the coachman. “Would you like to see it?”
Gently, he took the sketch. “Her Royal Highness did this?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, she did.”
“Indeed, this is a fine piece of art, and quite a lovely likeness of you, if you don't mind me saying so. I should think this might be a treasure for you someday, when she is our queen.”
Kitty smiled brightly. “That is exactly what I was thinking. It has been the most perfect day.”
“Until you ran into me,” he said, sheepishly.
“You startled me.”
“So I may be sure I have not ruined your day, could I see you back home?” he asked. “I can have a carriage brought around.”
“Mr. Talbot should be here to fetch me at four.” Kitty discreetly wiped her moist palm against her skirt.
<
br /> “It is only three now. I would be most pleased to take you back.” He gave her a small bow.
“But what if we pass him on the way?”
He laughed. “Then we shall tell him to turn around.”
It sounded simple and she was elated. Wait until Mama sees this gift! In the back of her mind, she wondered if it were the picture she was excited about or something else. Or someone else. Brushing the thought away, she agreed quickly to the carriage ride. It seemed the correct thing to do. There was no point in wasting an hour of this beautiful, golden, balmy day.
“Yes, I would love it if you took me home. It is much too lovely outdoors to waste the day.”
“That much is true, my lady, although for me, speaking with you like this could never be a waste of my day.”
Startled, she looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said that speaking with you could never be a waste of my day, and it is most pleasant.” He bowed.
“How kind of you to say. However, I don't know why you say that. You barely know me.”
“I have seen members of your family here and there, at various events. I know you are the eldest daughter of the Duke of English.”
Events? What events could he be referring to? Certainly, her parents didn't travel in the same circles as a coachman. Most likely he meant he'd seen them in passing, as he dropped off a guest or visitor to a gathering or a ball. “I am not accustomed to people knowing me. You flatter me far too much, sir.”
Again, there was that dancing smile. What a handsome man! Kitty lost her breath. It was all too much for her ... the lesson with the princess, the unexpected gift, and now this tantalizing encounter. She was enjoying it far too much, and so it must be very wrong.
“Are you all right? You look pale.”
“Yes...” she said slowly. The grounds looked vibrant in the sunshine and a perfect periwinkle shaded sky went on and on. Moments like this needed to be savored. Even the soft air against her face felt perfect. “Just a little tired perhaps. It has been a long day.”
“I'll get the royal carriage immediately. Just stay where you are.” He hurried in the direction of the stable yard.
She breathed in the warm spring air. Awash in emotion, she tingled. She felt another emotion she could not describe—a shivering, exciting feeling unfamiliar to her. Was it him or just the excitement of the day? She wasn't sure. She needed a bench or something to lean against to steady herself, but there was nothing except for the immense, red brick palace and rolling lawns and paths surrounding it. Remembering the Princess's drawing, she lifted her hand to make sure it was still there.
A Dance of Manners Page 17