A Charming Cavalryman for Clementine_A Historical Romance Novel Based on True Events

by Hanna Hamilton

  Feeling slightly flushed, she started fluttering the ornate fan that she held in her hand, directing it below her face to abate the flush that threatened to betray her. Before she realized what she was doing, it was too late – she had just indicated to the gentleman with her wide-open and flapping fan that she was single and in love with him.

  She snapped it shut far too violently. This gesture made her more nervous still. She did not hate him as her immediate action had just indicated – God, this is all wrong; damn him for having this effect on me. Whatever she did was erroneous and making her look more and more like a fool. Ultimately, she decided to lower her right arm and refrain from any further unwanted fan signalling. All the while she had been struggling with her presentation, the man studied her with a knowing smirk on his face.

  For far too long, Clementine stared back at him greedily. She behaved as if she had never seen him before or that he was her beau who had returned home after a long voyage at sea. He was lean, of a fine height, long ash black hair with a determined clean-shaven face. Though at the same time, his green eyes exuded kindness and compassion.

  Even though her body and mind had betrayed her at her sister’s wedding, he was all Clementine could ever hope for in a man. Before she knew it, and for the first time in her life, Clementine could entertain the prospect of marriage.

  “Major Stirling Whitt Whittaker, finest cavalryman in the 11th Hussars, darling Sister,” said Royce enthusiastically. He winked at Clementine. “As if you didn’t already know that.”

  “I am so very pleased to see you again, Major. Although, the last time when we were introduced, you were not yet a major,” said Clementine regaining her composure and adopting her customary self-assured poise.

  “I have your dear brother-in-law to thank for that. And please do call me Stirling,” he answered confidently.

  Clementine tried her best to force down her elation and remain aloof – she would so love to call him by his given name. Yet, this proved to be virtually impossible. It maddened her that a man could have such an affect on her. “I don’t think that would be proper, Major. After all, we are not in a state of courtship,” she said confidently.

  For a moment, they just stood there staring at each other. Stirling couldn’t believe his eyes. Clementine was even more beautiful than he remembered. He revelled in the lustre of her soft silky skin that shone like white marble under the crystal chandeliers above.

  Her golden blonde hair was done in the pompadour style and was held in place on the top of her head, while a few errant golden curls hung listlessly down over her forehead. Stirling could imagine that when untied, her hair would cascade languorously down her back in a river of molten gold. He breathed in deeply with unfathomable wanting.

  With a spark in her silver-grey eyes, Clementine was the first to recover. “Finest cavalryman in the regiment? That’s quite an accolade, Major Whit Whittaker.” She deliberately continued to employ the formal address. Although she wanted to call him Stirling, she just loved the way his surname sounded on her tongue. It was as if she was already claiming it as her own.

  “Naturally, he’s the best horseman in the whole of England. He was literally born in the saddle. Even Lord Cardigan agrees,” said Royce butting in. He had not yet noticed the electrical current that ran between Clementine and Stirling.

  For a heartbeat, Clementine flinched upon hearing the arrogant aristocrat’s name. But at the same time, she loved the way Stirling blushed modestly. She found it so endearing how a man of his obvious talents could display such humility.

  “The higher we are placed, the more humbly we should walk,” said Clementine with a glint in her eyes.

  Stirling grinned at her. “Marcus Tullius Cicero, I believe.”

  Clementine could’ve jumped up and down with glee. He was not only gorgeous but an educated man as well.

  “May I have this dance, Lady Delaney?” Asked Stirling.

  Clementine smiled mischievously. “You don’t appear to be on my card, Major.”

  Stirling smiled at Clementine’s allusion to the dance card, containing the names of her dance partners that each woman was presented with by the host. “There’s an exception to every rule, My Lady,” he said, taking her gloved hand and making to lead her to the dance floor.

  “Well, I don’t think that would be proper, sir. I, I, cannot,” she stammered, losing all of her composure. It took her a few moments before she could muster the will to free her hand from his.

  “Oh, but I do think that you can. You see I traded places with that gentleman over there. He is a cornet and his name is Smith…yes, Arthur Smith, I believe.”

  The cool grin on Stirling’s face infuriated Clementine. She furtively looked down onto the ornate card with the dance partner’s names written in an exquisite hand. Her gloved hand nearly crumpled it. It was true. Her next dance partner was in fact the cornet. The heat rose to her face. It was not the same as before. This time, anger was the fuel. “I do not appreciate being bartered like a slab of meat.”

  Stirling smiled, not in the least falling into the trap of acrimony. From Royce’s constant ramblings on about his sister-in-law, he had known what to expect.

  He bowed. “I mean no disrespect and I am also not a tradesman. I only pulled rank with my junior officer because I wanted to have a dance with the most radiant woman in the room.” Seeing that his words were having no effect, he frowned. Standing next to Clementine, Royce had his eyes open as wide as saucers. He kept jerking with his head, like he was trying to tell his friend something.

  Before Clementine could walk away, Stirling remembered something his brother officer had told him one evening in the officers’ mess. He adopted a serious mien.

  “Dear Lady Delaney, it was not my intention to offend you. I must confess that it was your loveliness that forced me to engage in duplicitous conduct in order to obtain the next dance. However, my desire to tap the mind of such an accomplished lady…and a nurse, spurred my intent.”

  “Now, why would that be of an interest to you, Major?” asked Clementine suspiciously.

  “How else would I get to know one of the brave ladies who might be saving my life in the months to come. If I may say so, I admire your courage, Lady Delaney.”

  Clementine pulled her eyebrows together and moved her mouth from side to side. She was not used to such men. Stirling was proving to be quite a revelation. “I thought that most men thought of women as mere vessels for breeding and maintaining a household. Are you trying to convince me otherwise, sir?”

  “It may be so that many of my contemporaries are a tad archaic when it comes to a woman’s role in society. I believe there is nothing more alluring then to be in the presence of a lady who has something to say.”

  “Even if that means her not agreeing with you?”

  “Oh, yes. If one wants one’s words repeated to them…I suggest the purchase of a parrot would be more conducive to maintaining such a state.”

  Clementine could not help herself from giggling. She studied the major some more to gage his sincerity. She knew of men’s proclivities to say whatever was needed in order to pull a woman’s drawers and bloomers off. Nodding, she decided that he was authentic and that he had meant what he had said.

  “So, Your Ladyship, may I have the pleasure of the next dance. It would be a delicious delight to hear some more about the splendid work you are doing. Not to mention to have the honour of being in your company a little while longer,” said Stirling, bowing slightly.

  She could not resist the innocent grin on his face that made her respond in kind. It was something she had never seen before on a man. Usually, men would act superior and condescending toward a woman. He was different. There was no hauteur or the telltale sign of seduction, just openness and a genuine desire to get to know her. She decided to agree to dance with him.

  “Major, it would be a pleasure to dance with you. I also would like to get to know more about the man who has the ability to inveigle his way onto a
list. It appears that you have a gift for the gentle art of subterfuge and the courage to admit that you have done it. Such men are rare.”

  Stirling chuckled. “The right man is the one who seizes the moment…and this is a moment I would never pass up on. Shall we?” He held out his hand that Clementine took without any further hesitation.

  While they walked away, Royce smiled. Elizabeth was going to be so pleased. He couldn’t wait to present her with the fortuitous news that her darling sister was not completely immune to male charm and grace.

  “A gallop,” said Clementine once the orchestra started the tune.

  “Well, I don’t gallop as well with ladies indoors,” said Stirling.

  They laughed. “Such modesty, Major I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” said Clementine sweetly.

  “How did you come to join the army, Stirling?” asked Clementine while they twirled over the parquetry dance floor.

  For a heartbeat, Stirling was reminded of the shameful way in which he was gazetted into the 11th. The ignominy of it still burned fresh as if it were yesterday. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell Clementine the entire truth, but her trusting eyes and easy manner made up his mind for him. They continued to gallop with the other couples, as he thought of the best way to put thoughts to mouth. Stirling knew that he must look uneasy because Clementine started to speak again.

  “Is something the matter, Major? I did not realize that the reason for joining up was such a contentious matter.”

  “I entered the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst when I was twenty. After that I was soon commissioned as a lieutenant in the cavalry in India.” The words gushed out of his mouth before he had time to stop them. Stirling felt relief wash over him. It felt good to open up to the woman who captivated him so.

  “Well, that is very impressive. I have never heard of a newly minted officer heading east so soon. Wouldn’t they usually spend some time in a regiment closer to home?”

  Stirling smiled wanly as he directed Clementine a few more paces between a row of fellow dancers. “Yes, you are right of course. Generally, when a man joins up, he stays in England, but my father obtained the position in the governor’s guard for me.”

  “Quite some father you’ve got there. May I ask who he is?” Clementine frowned when she saw him flinch.

  “My father is the Duke of Kenbridge, My Lady.”

  “I see, that is a very noble name, sir.”

  Stirling laughed somewhat too loudly. “I suppose so.”

  “And you don’t have a particularly good relationship with the duke, I assume. We don’t have to talk about it…”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. I feel as if I could tell you anything, Clementine,” said Stirling, completely forgetting good etiquette.

  Clementine smiled at him. “Does this mean that our courtship has begun? You did use my given name…that usually is the beginning of more informal relations.” She batted her eyelids at him in an attempt to make him feel more at ease.

  “Oh, dear, I did not mean to be overly forward. I would have asked your father first, My Lady? Yet, that wouldn’t seem proper not knowing what your thoughts on the matter were. I suppose, I wanted to ask you first. I hope you don’t construe my conduct as impertinent.”

  “No, not at all, Stirling…” Clementine tittered. It made her happy to call him that. “You have my permission to approach my dear papa, but don’t wait too long lest you have to write him from the Crimea.”

  With a smile on his face Stirling nodded as they danced for a few more heartbeats without saying a word.

  “You are the first man to ask me first. A trait I appreciate for it is not my father whom you will be courting but me.”

  Clementine moved her head closer until her cheek brushed his. She nearly forgot what she wanted to say when his manly scent invaded her nostrils.

  “I won’t tell anyone that we are already familiar with one another if you won’t.”

  She spent a moment longer basking in his virile fragrance that consisted of hints of lemon and vetiver that was perfectly enmeshed with mannish musk.

  Despite wanting to know more about Clementine, Stirling found himself opening up to her like he had done with no other person before. She was even easier to talk to than Royce. He told her about his time in India and the difficult relationship he had with his brothers and father.

  He even spoke of the white feathers and how they were given to him. Not once did she balk when he mentioned the unsavoury manner in which Royce had discovered him in the squalid dwelling in east London. Stirling even mentioned the ridiculous black bottle affair a few nights ago. This made her angry.

  Stirling’s telling was so fluid and Clementine was such a good listener that they managed to squeeze all of that information into the hopping dance. By the time the music stopped, she knew nearly as much about him as Royce did.

  During the few steps off the floor, Clementine was speechless. She had never expected him to be such an open book. Here was a man that spoke the truth no matter the consequences – Major Stirling Whit Whittaker was a rare gem and she was going to keep him. What had her sister said during afternoon tea: “Clementine, you should dig your talons into him before another woman does.”

  Even despite Stirling’s brief tenancy in the insalubrious parts of London, Clementine was impressed by his military career and ability to bounce back from a low point. The feathers did not bother her either. To her surprise, she felt protective of him and wanted nothing more than to tell his father and brothers what she thought of them. It amazed her how family could be so spiteful and cruel.

  Clementine thought that the dance had ended far too soon as they walked off the dance floor.

  “I am afraid we spent the entire time talking about me,” said Stirling. “I am such a bore.”

  “Not at all. I really enjoyed listening to you.” She grinned. “It also gives us the opportunity to arrange another meeting for you to get to know me better.”

  Stirling smiled back at her.

  Still engaged in conversation, Clementine and Stirling walked back to join Royce who was standing next to Lord Cardigan. Clementine stopped in her tracks. Stirling looked at her quizzically. Clementine had no desire to be in the man’s presence again. Already, the sight of his arrogant and flushed face irritated her. Judging by the way he slurred lightly, he had obviously consumed one glass of champagne too many.

  “Ah, the filly from Kent,” said Cardigan rudely. He made no effort to acknowledge Stirling whom he treated with his customary disdain for people who did not agree with him. Clementine did not react to the slight. “I see you couldn’t resist the charms of one of my most talented officers,” continued Cardigan knowingly.

  “Clementine is truly an exceptional dancer, My Lord,” said Stirling acerbically. The affair during the mess dinner still rankled him.

  “Let’s hope she dances so enthusiastically in the bedchamber as well as she gallops across the dance floor,” grunted Cardigan.

  “You, My Lord, should get better acquainted with the various beverages. I hear that you mistook a bottle of wine for a black bottle of porter. But don’t despair, many a novice would have made the same mistake,” hissed Clementine.

  Cardigan cleared his throat bronchially. “A gentleman knows to decant his wine. My mess is not an alehouse in Saint Giles, woman. I think it best you refrain from attempting to correct your betters and remain what you are – a woman whose place is by the hearth with her offspring.” His gaze shifted snootily to Stirling for a split-second before ignoring his presence, preferring to scan the ballroom.

  Clementine could’ve smacked him. As if he’d noticed the tension in her arm, Stirling restrained her. Clementine looked up at the man whom she had started to respect. As if she’d known him her entire life, she immediately understood his gaze. It was savage like that of a tiger. His green eyes bored into the unsuspecting earl.

  Suddenly, Clementine was afraid for Stirling. He couldn’t possibly challenge his commanding officer
? It would mean the end of his military career. She had to do something so that Stirling would save face, and at the same time not insult Cardigan.

  “Is that all women are good for, My Lord? It appears that you are the same veritable bore in the flesh as the newspapers suggest,” said Florence Nightingale, coming to their rescue.

  “That black bottle affair The Times reported about is absolutely ridiculous. You, sir, are nothing but excrement stuffed into a silk stocking. To think that the likes of you will be leading our brave young men to war is truly worrying.”

  She pursed her lips into a thin line. “If you are not acquainted with the historical facts, that’s how Napoleon Bonaparte referred to Maurice de Talleyrand, his foreign minister.”