AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not wishing to inflame the Prince’s anger further, Grand said softly, “Yet, should Miss Everley be punished for her father’s crimes? In opposition to the course her parent would have chosen, the lady did all possible to return the Queen’s necklace to you. Moreover, she has remained silent on the subject, so others know nothing of the scandal.”
Liverpool added, “Your recognition would be a small price to pay in order to have the return of Her Royal Highness’s necklace, Your Highness, and, as Lord Harlow has declared, our chances of recovering the necklace before the King and Queen’s anniversary are slim if Thomas Everley has it in his possession. It took us nearly two years to corner him in Hampshire before his arrest and trial. Even if I place every agent of the Home Office on this mission, it is not likely we will locate Everley before the September celebration. And who is to say that the man will not simply disappear to the Continent and sell the jewellery to those wishing to bring shame to your father’s reign and to you, personally.”
The Prince’s expression still held the stubbornness for which the man was known.
“And how do we guarantee that Everley will not continue his thieving ways?”
Liverpool grimaced. It was an odd expression on the man’s features, and, Grand realised then, even the Prime Minister had his doubts about this plan.
“We cannot, but Harlow felt Everley’s intent was to leave England. The man simply wishes his daughter to be provided a ‘leg-up’ in Society. Your recognition, as the future King, will go a long way to ease her transition. Both Harlow and Mr. Dostoff agree that Miss Everley is worthy of your recognition. She risked her life, and what reputation she has carved out for herself, in order to serve your wishes, Your Highness. If nothing less, you may praise her for the lady’s efforts to keep families together and for providing training of useful skills for the mothers and apprenticeships for the children.
“According to the women overseeing the homes founded by Miss Everley, in the last five years, they have seen to the training and employment of more than six dozen former prostitutes and placed more than one hundred children in apprenticeships and homes, while seeing each has a basic education in reading and writing so that they may support themselves and prove a productive member of society. Each, I may add, at Miss Everley’s expense. She pays for all of the costs herself, using the profits from an investment presented to her from her mother’s family.”
“Not from her father’s bounty?” the Prince asked.
“The lady resides in a modest home on Milk Street,” Grand explained. “No finery. No priceless portraits. Just simple pieces of furniture displaying a bit of wear; no jewels or fancy gowns. A minimum of servants. I have witnessed this for myself. Miss Everley is not living on her father’s ill-gotten gains. I have no doubt the lady loves her father, even with his faults, but she takes no pride in the connection.”
Liverpool suggested, “With the skills Miss Everley has perfected under her father’s tutelage, the lady could filch enough to provide herself a more luxurious home and more for her charity, but Miss Everley possesses the honour not found in her father. At her grandfather’s request, Lord Hampton oversees her investments, and you know what a proper prude Hampton is. He would not have taken on the task unless he respected the woman.”
At least, for Grand, such explained how Miss Everley was connected to Lord Hampton.
The Prince nodded his understanding, but his features still displayed his doubts.
“You will recapture Thomas Everley?”
Liverpool assured, “I will have an army of agents prepared for the arrest, Your Highness.”
A moment of alarm lodged itself in Grand’s chest: Would not arresting Everley again negate any good the Prince’s recognition of Miss Everley could create? Her father’s notoriety would further taint the lady’s future. In that moment, Grand made the decision not to permit Thomas Everley’s reputation to bring more harm to the man’s daughter, even if it cost Grand his own place in Society.
******
“There must be a mistake,” she whispered beneath her breath as Lord Liverpool’s coach rolled to a stop before Carlton House.
She had been saying the same words repeatedly since receiving the official invitation for this evening’s entertainment. Originally, Colleen thought someone meant to bam her. That was before Lord Liverpool’s note had arrived, saying he would escort her to the supper and entertainment being held by the Prince at His Highness’s residence.
That had been on Monday of the current week: The message had sent her into a frenzy of activity. She did not have the time, nor the funds, to order a new gown, although, if she could have found one that she thought appropriate, she might have asked Lord Hampton for an advance on her allowance in order to pay for it. However, nothing which would dazzle could be had on such short notice. Therefore, Colleen had purchased a simple gown — more black than blue — a sample gown from a dress shop on Bond Street. It had cost her more than she could afford, but she could not appear at Carlton House in a gown some three years old, and the only one close to being appropriate for an evening at Carlton House had been the one she had worn to Lady Jenest’s gaming night. She had sewn tucks and beads to the new satin. Her maid-of-all-work assisted in styling her hair. Colleen knew that she would appear plain in a room full of Society’s most dazzling members, but she could not refuse an opportunity to speak to others in important positions in the hope of more funding for her life’s work, nor could one send back a refusal of an invitation from one’s future King. Therefore, she had readily forwarded her acceptance.
As she turned to look at the Prince’s home while they waited their turn to step down, the dream she had experienced for the last five nights came rushing back in, increasing her concern.
In the dream, she was in a long hallway, with an arched roof, much like a cathedral, and nothing like Carlton House. She was rushing to keep up with Lord Liverpool, but no matter how quickly she stepped, the distance between them had lengthened to the point where the Prime Minister was nothing more than a dark speck against a golden wall. She could make out a window up ahead, but could not seem to reach it. Ironically, as she rushed into the unknown, the glided images and glamour surrounding her quickly faded. There were no more portraits, potted palms, or guards. No women in gorgeous ball gowns or men in their formal wear. The walls, which once were solid brick and wood, now appeared to be golden drapes, lined with wooden chairs, very much like those she used at the Ever-Rising Home. One chair stacked upon another, followed by an infinite row of them, stretching beyond her line of sight. Plain chairs, defining her existence. Saying she had no place in such auspicious company. She was simple and ordinary, as were the chairs she employed at her charity. As she rushed on, she wondered whether to turn and run or continue chasing Lord Liverpool. Ironically, each time she dreamed the same sequence, just as she cried out to his Lordship to wait for her, she would, inevitably, wake up with a jolt of fear rushing through her body. Then she would be awake the remainder of the night. Now, the feeling of dread filled her once more, making her wish to flee the carriage and never look back.
“Your Lordship,” a footman dressed in the Royal livery said as he opened the door to the Liverpool coach.
“Do not be nervous, my dear,” Lady Liverpool said. “You will do well, and it is only one night.”
Colleen nodded her understanding and her thankfulness, while she thought, “Yes, just one night. Then back to being the Cinder Maid.” Stepping down from Lord Liverpool’s coach, she set her shoulders and lifted her chin: She would claim one exquisite memory. When, in the upcoming years, others spoke of her poor existence, she would remind them that she had once dined with King George IV when he was still the Prince Regent.
She followed Lord and Lady Liverpool through the massive entranceway, attempting to memorise each of the features so that she might describe them to her servants and the women at the Ever-Rising Home, who were as excited as was she about the invitation.
They were nearing the entrance to the great hall when Lord Harlow stepped from beside a large pillar to bow to Lord and Lady Liverpool.
“My Lord. My Lady.” he murmured in greeting.
Colleen’s heart hitched higher. She had not known of his return to England. There had been nothing in the newsprints to indicate that his arrival was common knowledge about town. How long had he been in London? Had he found the necklace? Was that the reason she had been invited to Carlton House? A reward for her efforts to retrieve Her Royal Highness’s jewellery?
Before she could verbalise any of her concerns, Lord Harlow was bowing to her.
“Miss Everley.”
