The tall handsome gentleman with bushy grey sideburns had his daughter’s grey eyes. He sighed.
“All of it is very much to the chagrin of my darling wife. She tried everything to make a veritable Victorian lady out of Clementine, but I am afraid I raised my firstborn child as an equal – like a boy if you will.”
He chuckled.
“She is an excellent shot with the rifle and a very fine conversationalist though. If women were allowed to enter parliament, Clementine would surely give many a gentleman a run for his money,” concluded the earl.
“That is what I lo…Oh, I mean like. No, no, that is such a feeble word. What I appreciate about your daughter, Lord Leighton. Yes, that’s right, what I appreciate,” stammered Stirling like an imbecile.
It had been a long time since he’d blushed. Habitually, Stirling was always the master of his emotions. The impish twinkle in Clementine’s eyes only made his discomfort worse.
Clementine inwardly burbled with triumph. She had gotten her revenge. At the ball, she had been the one who had lost her cool. She enjoyed seeing Stirling suffer a little. More importantly, it warmed her heart that she had such an effect on him.
Most men were like puppets, with their parents the domineering puppeteers, pulling and tugging on the strings: go this way and that, say this or do that. It was like a breath of fresh air to have a man standing before her who could show what he wanted, and even more to her pleasure, was the fact that he enjoyed her candour.
“Well then, Royce, won’t you present me to Lord Stirling Whit Whittaker for the third time, please? You can’t leave the poor man hanging dry like that. He looks as if he is going to pass out,” asked Clementine sweetly.
Her father had to stifle a chuckle. He loved how his daughter behaved. She was so different to the predominantly insipid and subservient contemporaries of her sex that roamed London society.
“Yes, of course, Sister.” Royce turned to his side a little. “May I present you, Lord Stirling Whit Whittaker, son of the Duke of Kenbridge - Lord Leighton and of course to you Lady Delaney.”
Having regained his composure, Stirling bowed elegantly.
“How lovely to see you again, My Lord,” said Clementine, gliding over the floor as if she were a fairy. Her soft kid side-lace boots hardly made a sound as she went.
Stirling took her right hand in his and brushed his lips over the back of it. “My Lady, it is a pleasure.”
“Good, good. Welcome, Whit Whittaker. Tis marvellous to finally meet you. Royce here can’t stop nattering on about you. It’s all Stirling this and Stirling that,” said the earl, crossing the short distance that separated them on his long legs.
“Lord Leighton, I am honoured,” said Stirling, shaking his proffered hand.
“Poppycock, Whit Whittaker. No need to be honoured. Be thirsty.” He bid his butler to bring them a round of whiskey. “Once you have a drink you can say what you came here to say.” The earl winked at Stirling amiably.
When the drinks arrived, Stirling was amazed to see that Clementine also had a whiskey. He had to swallow down his surprise lest she see it.
“To your good health, everyone.” The earl lifted his glass and the others followed suit. He smacked his lips audibly when the fiery liquid passed down his throat. “Good that. What say you, Clementine?”
She smiled at her father dotingly. “Nothing like it, Papa.”
“That’s my girl,” said the earl. Shifting his gaze to Stirling, he said, “So, Royce here tells me you want to ask for my permission to commence formal courtship of my daughter.” He guffawed loudly. “By God, man, don’t worry; you’re not asking me my permission to marry her. Not that I would mind of course. Best horseman in Europe, dashing hussar and the son of the Duke of Kenbridge – Clementine could not ask for a finer match.”
Stirling watched as Clementine blushed. Seeing her lowering her guard gave him courage. He had trouble taking his eyes off her face with the perfect bone structure of her jaw that seemed to be flawlessly symmetrical. The flutter of her eyelashes and her blinking grey eyes mesmerized him, beguiling him as they tried to keep him locked in their embrace.
Hearing the earl clear his throat, he conquered his composure. “Yes, Lord Leighton, that is right. I would very much like the pleasure and privilege of escorting your daughter to Hyde Park this afternoon.”
“A privilege for sure. I am just not sure about the pleasure side of things. Make certain not to engage her in any conversation about women’s rights and education and their place in the world and you’ll be fine.”
“Papa,” said Clementine, slapping him on the shoulder affectionately.
“Little family joke. I always knew that you’d end up with a military man. They are the only ones brave enough to have you.”
He hooted laughter as his daughter gave him a withering look.
“Now, be off with you lest you lose the entire afternoon.” He said his farewells to Stirling and headed for the door that the butler hastily opened for him. “Hope to see you again soon, young man,” he barked on his way out.
The man’s charming and relaxed attitude to life gripped Stirling. He had never met anyone quite like him. Not once had he made sure that his daughter would be chaperoned during their outing – he trusted his Clementine implicitly and in some way, he felt that the earl trusted him also.
“Come on, Stirling,” said Clementine, whispering his name and flashing him a captivating smile. “Let’s go.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the door. She tittered when she saw the colour on the butler’s face take on the hue of the white-stuccoed frontage of the townhouse.
Chapter 16
“Oh, tis such a lovely day, Stirling. I could just dash off and run over the grass. Yes, that’s it…the last one to reach the Serpentine is a rotten egg.” In a flurry of giggles, Clementine lifted her skirts and tore up the grassy hill to the lake.
Stirling shook his head. She was so vivacious that it was infectious. Just being near her had eradicated the sombre mood that had held him with its dark tentacles. He could hardly move. The sight of Clementine racing up the small incline made his heart beat faster. She resembled a minxy pixie, dancing under a sunlit caress on a meadow full of daisies – she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Well, come on, old man. You’ll never catch up with her if you continue gaping at her. Run!”
Royce and Elizabeth had finally caught up with him. They had kept a respectful distance the entire time. Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Stirling. She was so happy that her sister was at last behaving a little more like a woman who knew what was important in life. She was certain by the way Stirling behaved in her presence and her sister’s return of his affections that wedding bells would ring shortly.
“Royce…”
“Yes, my friend.” Royce frowned. “Why so serious?” he added.
“My behaviour toward you earlier was most un-gentlemanly, and worst of all not befitting the much needed and deserved comportment toward a dear friend. I am sorry, Royce. I was such a bore. You were only trying to help me and I behaved rudely. Please accept my apology,” said Stirling.
“There’s no need for an apology, Stirling. If it had been me in your situation, I would have behaved just as you did – now, go. She is getting away.”
Stirling needed no further prompting. Like a whippet, he lurched forward. In moments, he caught up with Clementine on his long legs, while she struggled to keep her skirts in place.
“It is so unfair. Look what I have to put up with. All of this fabric makes it nigh impossible to run any faster. I would like to see you do it and run.”
“But you are lovely, Clementine,” said Stirling, slowing down as he reached her position.
A brief flush populated her cheeks. “Thank you, Stirling, you are too kind.”
She took a moment to steady her breathing, as they took the final few steps toward the banks of the lake in the centre of the park.
“You can tell me now, Stirli
ng. You have been the most wonderful and learned conversation partner since leaving my papa’s residence, but I know when there is something bothering you. Out with it.”
Shaking his head, Stirling chuckled. “Nothing gets past you.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She crinkled her nose while she waited for him to continue.
The breath hitched in Stirling’s throat. The gesture had the most endearing effect on him. He cleared his throat. “Do you remember my mentioning the black bottle affair at the mess?”
Clementine nodded. “Quite ridiculous – how could I ever forget. That pompous toad, Cardigan, never ceases to lower himself to further debasing exploits.” After allowing herself a heartbeat of irritation thinking about the earl, she again focused her attention on Stirling. “Go on,” she encouraged.
“Well, it’s like this. Lord Cardigan wants to have me arrested, well, uh, I think I am already arrested – tis what he said.”
“Arrested? How is that even possible?”
“For not decanting my moselle at his table and allegedly not comporting myself as a gentleman.”
“But, Stirling, I know no finer gentleman than you.”
She took his hand and squeezed it.
“Listen to me. Firstly, it was not you who drank the moselle and secondly, that baboon cannot have you arrested for supposed un-gentlemanly comportment. He is completely misinformed.”
“He seems to think that he is in the right, Clementine. I don’t quite know what to do.”
He remained silent as they took a few more steps on the path that encircled the lake.
“Soldiering is all I know; I believe that I will have to transfer to another regiment.”
“That is wrong, Stirling, and you know it. You are the epitome of the English officer gentleman and you belong in the 11th Hussars more than any other man. I will not have it.”
Clementine furrowed her brow and pressed her lips together like she always did when she tried to think of a solution to a problem.
Stirling chuckled. “My dear Clementine, I truly am astounded by your dynamism and high esteem of my person, but I am afraid there really is nothing we can do about it. Cardigan has the entire regiment in his pocket and the men love him for it.”
“Oh, does he now? But he doesn’t have the entire city of London in his pocket.” Clementine pulled on his hand and started to guide Stirling in the other direction toward the Strand with the intent of a crash of rhinos on the rampage.
“Where are you going? What’s happened?” asked Elizabeth with concern on her face as they raced past her and Royce. When she saw her sister holding Stirling’s hand, her worry waned a little.
“The walk is over. We have an appointment in the city. Come along, Stirling, there is not a moment to lose.”
Stirling shrugged when he saw his friend’s questioning gaze. He did not protest. Clementine’s manner intrigued him. And more importantly, in the short time he had come to know her, he was definitely not going to stand in her way when she had made up her mind. He decided to go with the flow and see where this would take him.
“You know that you need papa’s consent if you are going to marry,” said Elizabeth, starting to worry whether that was her sister’s intention.
“By Jove, Elizabeth, is that all you can think of,” snapped Clementine who was already a few skips ahead - she did not linger any longer. Her urging and fast pace soon had the group of four trooping down the road bisecting the park toward the city in silence.
“Clementine, can you tell us what this is all about. You haven’t said a word the entire excruciating walk over here,” complained Elizabeth who, like the others, had only walked the relatively short distance down Serpentine Road to Hyde Park Corner.
“Stop winging and hurry up. There! I can see a hansom cab.” This only spurred Clementine to an even greater speed.
Behind her, the others exchanged curious glances. As all of them knew of Clementine’s moods, they said nothing and without further protest, followed her to the horse-drawn carriage pulled up close to the curb. The driver sat on a sprung seat at the back of the black vehicle, above a small cab that seated two.
“Where are you going, missus?” asked the elegantly liveried coachman when Clementine reached the front of the vehicle.
“Fleet Street.” Without waiting for the coachman to step down or for Stirling to catch up, Clementine opened the cab door and placed her foot on the small step that sprung out from the side of the conveyance. She stepped in. “Hurry up, Stirling. We’ll never get there if you keep dawdling.
“Get where?”
Clementine gave him an impish grin. “You’ll see.”
“Clementine, there is only space for two in there. How on earth do you expect us to chaperone you. This is most unseemly. Papa will have my neck if he finds out about this,” protested Elizabeth. Next to her, Royce smirked.
“Oh, do hush up, Elizabeth. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? I am courting an officer and a gentleman and now you worry about me spending time with him. Tis not like I am going to do the bear with him on the back seat.”
Having said it, the thought of hugging and maybe even kissing Stirling rather appealed to her. She did not let her mind linger on the notion for long. There were important matters to attend to.
“Driver, carry on,” she hailed through the flap at the front of the small cabin.
Her hand slipped onto Stirling’s leg when the conveyance lurched into motion as she tried to keep from slipping off the seat. Her eyes flew open as she turned her head to look into his eyes. The greenness therein had taken on a darker hue. The sight of them blotted out her sister’s cries of protest as they pulled away. Their gazes remained locked for a few heat-ridden heartbeats until she skated her hand off his thigh far too slowly.
The place where her hand had been burned like a livestock’s branding on his skin. Stirling had trouble controlling his breathing. Looking at Clementine, he could see that she was equally moved by their brief intimate contact. They remained silent. Each one trying to come to terms with what was happening between them. It was terra incognita for both of them.
“I wanted to say…” they said in unison.
The heady, torrid current running between them and the fact that they had uttered the same words simultaneously had them laughing. Neither of them knew what it was about. It just felt right: them being together in the hansom alone, the way they had met, the fact that the closest people in their lives were married and even their nemesis Lord Cardigan who seemed to hang over their shoulders whenever they were together confirmed what they were becoming.
“You first,” said Stirling, recovering from his mirth.
“No, you,” she retorted.
This silly banter went on for a while until Clementine raised her hands in defeat.
“I see you are too much the gentleman to deign to go first, even upon a lady’s insistence. So much for Cardigan’s claim that you are not one.”
She ran her hand along the side of her meticulously coiffed head.
“What I wanted to say earlier was that I always have such a lovely time with you, Stirling. You understand me; tis something I never thought possible.”
She blushed as the words passed her quivering lips.
Stirling shifted his weight in the leather-upholstered seat. Seeing this biggest display of femininity on her part, took his breath away. Clementine was such a multi-facetted woman. He knew then and there that there would never be a dull day with her at his side.
“I can only say the same, darling Clementine. You are so full of life; I can only imagine how magical a life spent with you would be. I, I…”
Before he could finish, she pressed her lips against his. For a brief moment, their tongues touched and their hands wandered shyly over the outlines of the other’s frame. Not wanting to, they instinctively let years of upper-class breeding reclaim its consistent and iron grip.
Breathing heavily, they pulled away. Their gazes continued the kiss as i
f their lips were still as one. Their hands had glided down the sides of their arms until they came to a rest in the others.
“Can’t you wait until you are asked?”
Clementine tittered. “You know me, so very impatient. And besides you had me when you said ‘Clementine darling’. I could hear that every day for the rest of my life.” She looked down as if she was afraid that he might think her too forward.
Stirling felt his chest constrict. “And I will say it to you for as long as I live.” He moved closer to kiss her again.
“Governor, we’re here,” announced the cabbie from the front.
Stirling pulled back as the hansom slowed down gradually. “Now, would you mind telling me what on earth we are doing on Fleet Street?”
A Charming Cavalryman for Clementine_A Historical Romance Novel Based on True Events Page 13