Jack Caldwell - The Three Colonels

“Yes, the ladies are lovely.”

“Oui, tout à fait—yes, indeed. But there is more; one can learn much from watching.” Talleyrand eyed Buford closely.

Buford knew he was trying to alert him. “Absolutely, monsieur.”

Talleyrand sighed. “There is much beauty to be found by a dashing knight. It is everywhere—the ballroom, the dining room, the library…” The sentence hung in the air.

It took Buford a moment to understand the ambassador. “I—excuse me, Excellency. I have enjoyed this enlightening conversation. Merci beaucoup. Bonne nuit.”

“You are very welcome, Sir John. Good night.” Buford headed towards the library. The ambassador watched him go with a glint in his eye.

*   *   *

“Baron von Odbart, what are you saying?” Caroline asked.

“Lady Buford—”

“Ah, there you are, my dear!” said Sir John as he entered the hallway before the library. “Baron, good evening!”

“Sir John!” Caroline exclaimed in surprise and relief. The Prussian glared at the interloper.

“Have you been keeping Seine Exzellenz company? Wunderbar!” Sir John turned to the baron. He let the Prussian know that he had heard their last exchange and that he spoke German. “Lady Buford takes her duties as my wife seriously—all of them,” he said with a mouth that smiled and eyes that did not.

Baron von Odbart did not reply. The two men locked eyes.

“My dear,” Sir John said, half turning to Caroline but not breaking eye contact with his adversary, “Lady Beatrice was looking for you. She is near the dining room, I believe.” His smile never left his face.

Caroline was confused. She had at last realized that she had been propositioned, but Sir John did not seem to be angry at all. The last time a man did thus, John had threatened to kill him, but now her husband just smiled at the baron.

“I… thank you, dear. Baron, excuse me,” she offered with the barest of civility, before she turned and left for the ballroom.

The two men were left alone. Finally, the baron spoke. “If you will excuse me, I shall return to the ball.”

He is an ambassador—you can do nothing, Buford reminded himself. I cannot challenge him; I cannot! But Buford could not let things lie and remain a man.

“A question first, sir. Do you hunt?”

The baron looked into his eyes. “Ja. Grouse and deer.”

“Musket?”

“Ja.”

“Perhaps we should go shooting together once the spring comes. I am proficient with the musket, rifle, pistol, and bow. I particularly enjoy hunting at dawn. Very productive, you know. I have had many successful… hunts at dawn.”

The baron replied with a grunt.

Buford lowered his voice. “Have you ever hunted with a blade? There is nothing like killing a wild boar with a sabre. The sound it makes when the blade strikes home… ah!” There was a wild look in his eye.

The baron shuddered; the message had been delivered. “I shall remember that. But, excuse me please; I do not think I shall have time to… hunt while in Vienna. The Congress…” he shrugged. “My apologies—bitte entschuldigen Sie. Gute Nacht.”

*   *   *

“Lady Beatrice, you were looking for me?” greeted Lady Buford.

The older lady smiled at her friend. “Why no, but I am glad to see you. Did someone say that I was?”

Caroline’s confusion returned. “Sir John did. I was just with Baron von Odbart—”

Lady Beatrice started. “Baron von Odbart!” She collected herself. “Caroline, is Sir John still with the baron?”

“Yes, I just left him—oh!” Caroline finally made sense of her husband’s odd behavior. He was trying to get me out of the room before he… She began to turn back to the library when she felt Lady Beatrice’s hand on her arm.

“Caroline,” she said in a low voice, “we shall go together… slowly.”

The two ladies had only taken a dozen steps before they saw, to their immense relief, Sir John strolling from the direction of the library. “Ladies!” he called out gaily.

Caroline was mortified, and true to her sex, exorcised her embarrassment by scolding her husband. “Sir John! What are you about, sir?”

Lady Beatrice asked, “Where is the baron?”

“The baron?” the colonel said nonchalantly. “Oh, he is about somewhere. Wretched man—turned down the opportunity to go hunting with me.”

“Hunting, sir?” cried his wife. “You wished to go sporting with that man after he—”

“Lady Buford!” hissed the hostess. To Sir John she asked, “Would this… hunting have anything to do with pistols or swords?”

“The very thing! I cannot see why he declined, but one can never tell with these foreigners.”

“Yes,” said Lady Beatrice dryly, “an ambassador is usually too busy for that sort of thing, especially with a mere advisor. I would not ask again, sir. I do not believe my brother would approve.”

Buford understood Lady Beatrice’s warning. “Yes, my lady.”

Caroline did not quite follow the conversation, but she knew that Sir John had been warned off some improper behavior. She began to defend him when another gentleman approached the group.

“Lady Beatrice, Sir John, excuse me please,” said one of the senior British diplomats. “Lady Buford, it is time for the supper dance.” He smiled as he held out his arm.

“Oh! Of course, my lord.”

Sir John smiled. “Enjoy your dinner, my dear. I shall see you for the final set.”

“Lady Buford,” said Lady Beatrice as Caroline was led away, “if you would be so kind as to call on me day after tomorrow, I would be most obliged.”

Caroline was taken aback by the formal tone. “Of… of course, my lady.”

“Wonderful. Let us say three o’clock? I shall send my card around.”

After Caroline left, Sir John asked, “Lady Beatrice, do you dance tonight?”

“Oh, no, my dear colonel. A hostess’s job is never done. However, I would not object if you would lend me your arm to the dining room.”

*   *   *

By the time the Bufords were riding back home in the carriage, all discord between them was once again gone. Caroline was tired and happy. In the back of her mind, she was still a bit disappointed that Sir John did not defend her more vigorously before the baron. Go sporting with him, indeed! However, the dinner was delightful, and she loved to dance with her husband. And Sofia’s gossip from the servants’ quarters was interesting.

“Ja! I vould not believe it had I not seen it vith mine own eyes! Baron von Odbart vas chased out of the back door by a Russian count! There will be some merry talk around Vienna tomorrow, I can assure you!”

Caroline was so sleepy and relaxed that she broke with propriety, placed her head on Sir John’s shoulder, and closed her eyes, a contented smile on her lips. Sir John simply held his wife’s hand as the carriage rocked through the nearly empty streets.

In the darkness of the carriage, they could not see the frown on Sofia’s face.

Once again, Caroline found herself in a coach heading for Lady Beatrice’s townhouse, but this time she was alone. She insisted that Sofia stay at home because Caroline planned to do a bit of shopping afterwards. Strangely, the girl did not object overmuch.

It was now two days since the embassy ball, and Caroline was keeping her engagement to join Lady Beatrice for tea. She almost sent her regrets; for some reason Caroline awoke that morning feeling unwell, but fortunately, the spell passed. Soon the carriage reached its destination, and she was shown to the parlor.

Caroline was surprised to find Lady Beatrice quite alone. She was not pleased by this; she at once feared that she had committed some unknown blunder during the ball and was now to account for it. Still, hiding behind her mask of civility, Caroline calmly took the seat offered her.

“Cook has assured me that tea is almost ready, Caroline. That is a lovely dress. Fuchsia, is it not?”

“I suppose, my lady. The dressmaker called it dark rose.” Mortification joined anxiety, even though Lady Beatrice had reverted to the informality of using her given name.

“It is a lovely color, whatever its name.” The tea tray now made its appearance, and soon cups were poured and served. “Are you enjoying your time in Vienna, Caroline?” asked Lady Beatrice as she stirred her tea.

Caroline began shaking. Now it begins. What in heaven have I done? “Yes, madam.”

“I am glad. You have certainly made friends here.”

“Thank you, my lady, I hope I have. The ladies of the delegation are all delightful and kind.”

Lady Beatrice leaned forward and touched Caroline’s hand. “I hope that you count me among your friends—” She stopped. “Why, my dear, you are shivering!”

“’Tis nothing, my lady.” Caroline was near tears.

“Are you cold? Should I have the fire lit?”

“No, please, I am f… fine.” Caroline burst into sobs.

“My dear, whatever is the matter?”

“Please!” Caroline cried in return. “Keep me in suspense no longer. Tell me what I have done—whom I have offended. To whom must I apologize? Let me make amends.”

“You poor dear!” The older woman joined Caroline on the couch and held her hand. “Dear child, you have offended no one! You have nothing for which to apologize.”

Caroline sniffed through her tears. “No one? Truly?”

Lady Beatrice gave her a kind smile. “You are well liked among the ladies. You have received many compliments for your efforts at the embassy ball.” She handed Caroline a handkerchief.