53. Queen Charlotte's Ball

Helena was not wrong.

First, we had to experience Coming Out, or as it is more properly known, Queen Charlotte's Ball.

The London Season opens with all of the year's eligible young ladies appearing at court before the queen. It is not a competition and Her Majesty does not choose a 'winner', though she does usually select a favourite. That individual rides on this honour through the weeks of the Season, getting the most attention from the young men, because she is the one favoured by Her Majesty.

At the risk of acquiring the royal wrath, I was going to ignore that. The Rogeringham women were going to have the pick of the young men begging for their mere attention.

A-ha! I hear you say, surely, two of your sisters are already spoken for? Is there any need for them to be a part of the Season, even for them to be presented?

It is true that Hermione will be marrying towards the end of the Season and Caroline and Henry want an autumn wedding at Rogeringham. But there was always the hope, the possibility, that the twins or Charlotte might find someone.

Being presented at court is much more than just the start of the Season, it is one of a girl's steps to her coming of age. For women of our social status, Queen Charlotte's Ball opens the doors to adulthood and marriage. It is a milestone, as they transit from a girl to being a woman in society. Our father denied my sisters this step, this vital occasion. Charlotte and Caroline should have had this pleasure previously, although there is no specified age for presentation, normally it is around the age of eighteen or so. All of my sisters had passed this mark. This was, in my mind, long past due.

To someone that has not been presented - who is not out, enjoyment of the events of the Season is dulled. Oh surely, one can attend the soirées, the balls, the picnics, one can drink the wine and enjoy the buffets, but a girl isn't really 'there', if she has not been presented. She is one of les Autres, the Others, the younger sisters, the mothers, the fathers, even the younger brothers - the onlookers, those looking in. And of course, there are the 'looks', the whispers, and the feeling of being excluded from society.

This was also the first part of my promise to Helena, that all - ALL - of them would have their moment.

Charlotte, Caroline, the twins and Hermione would be able to enjoy the rest of the Season, spoken for or not. They could attend an event, with their heads high, in fitting with their rank, and enjoy it. That was also part of my promise to them.

The announcements for the receiving line for Her Majesty's ball, had been going on for at least twenty minutes. I was, thankfully, not a part of it this time, being merely a spectator. The Honourable Arabella Dorrington and her sponsor, Elizabeth, Lady Dorrington had been announced quite early on in the proceedings.

Finally, I heard the Master of Ceremonies say "Your Majesty - Lady Charlotte Rogeringham, Lady Caroline Rogeringham, Lady Margaret Rogeringham, Lady Louise Rogeringham and Lady Hermione Rogeringham. Their sponsor is the Duchess of Norton, Lady Helena Rogeringham."

My sisters looked magnificent. Where Helena looked stunning in a black silk dress, my sisters all wore the traditional white, short-sleeved presentation gown, by the most desirable designers. Each girl there, all of the debutantes, wore basically the same outfit, the three ostrich-feather head-dresses, their pearls, the gloves, fans, shoes, even the trains that they carried over their arms. But there was so much variation on show within these simple parameters, that it was quite a dazzling array and if I had been in the market for a wife, I would have had a very fine selection to choose from.

Each of the girls being presented came forward and bowed - they did not curtsey - to Her Majesty and then stood to let the queen assess their qualities, before moving on to allow the next young lady to be introduced.

Charlotte, obviously was the first of the Rogeringham women to come forward, the oldest by quite a large margin of the debutantes. She managed to rein in her usual purposeful stride and glided gracefully to where Her Majesty was seated, her face passive and still, and I saw again the graceful beauty of her mother in her as she moved.

Caroline came next, also older than most of the other girls there. Caroline, despite her height, will often seem to be withdrawn within herself, as if she seeks to avoid being noticed, not on this occasion. My sister stood up to her full height and while not striding out, made her way to the throne, where she made her graceful bow.

I did hear some hushed whispers from those already presented, who were standing behind my right shoulder, presumably making reference to the ages of my sisters. If either of them was aware of anything, they showed no sign. I could not have been prouder of them.

Margaret came up and bowed, and then Louise did the same. While they were at least a year older than the other participants, they appeared to fit in with the others, so much so that I do not think any of the other girls noticed.

Hermione, glided across the floor towards her majesty, her long hair and the stillness of her posture added to her gracefulness as she moved. Oh, my beautiful Hermione, I thought, as she stopped and made a proper bow to her majesty.

All of the preparations had been worthwhile, the rehearsals, in particular. By going over precisely what they were expected to do, we had removed many situations that would or could have caused concern. Certainly, they had advanced towards the queen with assurance, looking in complete control, exactly as a Rogeringham should.

I believe that not one of my sisters wore anything - bar some items of jewellery - that had not been made especially for this occasion. The costs for this one event alone would make one's eyes water.

And the cost was part of the whole show. It was not sufficient to be wealthy, but one had to be seen to be wealthy. Wealthy enough to take part in this parade of elegantly wrapped, eligible womanhood, anyway. The newest of everything, and if it wasn't new, as in the jewellery, it had to be the very finest of heirlooms. The fact that the women who wore these gauds were the prettiest, the most attractive of our society, whether they wore expensive ornamentation or not, did not matter, the outer layers of ostentation were crucial.

Not that I was complaining. Henry Adams assured me - after spending days familiarising himself with our accounts, that the estate was quite capable of bearing the cost, despite Dodgson's depredations. Henry and I joked between us about the wisdom of my trying to get five sisters married off all in the same year, and there were times when even I doubted the idea, but we were committed now.

Just to be here had been a journey in itself. First there had been the 'training', then there had been applications to the Chamberlain's office, and then waiting for acceptance. Then, knowing that we would be attending, there was the actual dressing and fitting. And now we were here, and my sisters had met the queen. Now, I thought, it was time to begin; the first cannon shot had been fired, and I could hear the enemy's drums.

I was talking with my mother, when one of the royal footmen asked me to attend Her Majesty.

"Cousin!" Queen Charlotte greeted me. It is a technicality. The Rogeringham line does not have any royal blood, as far as is known. Lady Elizabeth Rogeringham, the first duke's daughter, only conceived once she had been married off, after the all-important affair with King Charles II. But in rank, we are next to royalty, and so Her Majesty uses the old-fashioned greeting of 'cousin'.

"Your Majesty." I bowed and kissed the proffered fingers.

"We are pleased to finally see your sisters before us and to find you in attendance with them, Sir William. We were wondering, how are you adapting to your new role as duke? We hear interesting things about you."

"It is very different from the army, Your Majesty but I am adapting," I said, as she rose from her seat and indicated that I should to escort her out into the garden.

Her Majesty, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, wife of King George III, King of England, Scotland and Ireland, is not a pretty woman, as some people have noted, she is not even handsome. Her features have been described in various ways, one commentator even saying that she has the features of a mulatto, though that seems to be spiteful gossip.

Focussing on Her Majesty's outward appearance misses much that is very important about the queen. The first thing that an astute observer notices about Her Majesty are her eyes. She is a great observer of things, the people around her especially. It appears that little escapes her. The queen is also possessed of a fine brain, enquiring and intelligent, after all she founded the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew for the advancement of our knowledge of plants, hardly the act of a dullard.

She is also a very capable woman, not only does she manage the king and his illness but this with having given birth to thirteen children and she still guides the reins of the government.

"Sir William, it has come to our ears that you believe that great changes are afoot within our society."

That was a surprise and no mistake. I have made no secret of my beliefs, but had not noised them abroad like a prophet, and yet they have reached the ears of the queen.

"The life I left when I went into the army, Your Majesty, is not the life I returned to. I merely seek to understand it. Like Your Majesty, I have family and people that look to me for their livings, it is important that I know what route to follow."

The queen looked at me. "It is equally important that the leaders of our country look at the road ahead and guide themselves along it, Sir William. England is best served by those that see the clearest.

"Pray, though, we would like to know," she asked, "Will there be howling mobs such as assailed our cousins in France?"

"Not while I still draw breath, Your Majesty." I thought it prudent not to mention King Charles I and the Great Civil War, though I think the English people, having executed a king once, have little appetite to do it again.

The queen offered me her hand; clearly, she was bringing the interview to a close. "I hope that your blade is as sharp as your obvious intellect, Sir William, and that we will be well served by both."

Her Majesty leaned in towards me, "We are pleased with what we see and hear and want it known, but not too widely, sir, that we hope that your endeavours this Season are successful and that you find all that you seek for your family."

I touched my lips to Her Majesty's offered fingers again and Queen Charlotte moved on through the throng.

Helena and my sisters were immediately by my side. The interview had been observed but not over-heard, and they were eager to hear what had been discussed. There was so much to be understood in what she had said, that I simply repeated the exchange, and delayed interpreting it with them until later.

This was an illustration of what I meant when I said that the queen was capable. She had said so much while not saying a lot. I reflected on it all that afternoon - I didn't have much else to do. The presentation ball, was chiefly for the young ladies being presented, and their sponsors - most often but not exclusively their mothers - the deuce take the fathers, and the brothers. They have to fend for themselves.

I found myself with the other men in a reception room off to the side, it was an oasis of peace and calm, away from the ball room, the fluttering fans and eye-lids and the chattering.

"Your Grace?" I looked to my left to see a man in the uniform of a general approaching me.

After exchanging greetings, the newcomer turned out to be Lt.-General Sir George Bradley, who had previously sent an envoy to invite me to meet him at Horseguards.

"Well, Sir George, does Horseguards have designs on recruitment this afternoon?" I asked. The general was in charge of that department for the army. "Because if it is, I am sorry but my soldiering days are done."

He looked puzzled for a moment, then realised what I was asking. He laughed, "My youngest daughter was presented today. Thank the Lord, that was the last of 'em."

He looked at me, "You have five sisters, Your Grace, my sympathies."

I laughed with him as I nodded.

"May I assume that that was the reason Your Grace decamped from town before Christmas and that it wasn't just to avoid meeting with me?"

A footman brought a tray of champagne glasses, the general took two and offered me one.

"I am afraid that was only part of it, Sir George," I told him, "I needed some time to move from one role to the other."

The general nodded. "And how have you found it?"

"A deuced sight more complicated than the army!" I snorted. "I'm still not sure how civilians manage without drum calls and sergeants." We laughed.

"And now, Your Grace?" He asked.

"I think I see the way forward." I did not expound on what I was thinking, though I found talking to Sir George remarkably easy. The fact that our ranks had effectively been reversed - the captain of a relatively obscure infantry regiment now outranked the general - that was one reason for this, but the other was that there was a shared experience between us. We both knew the same people, and understood the same jokes; the army was a common thread between us.

"Perhaps now is not the time to talk 'shop', as they say, Your Grace, but I hope that you can see your way to visiting me, for a chat sometime."

"I shall." I told him and took his calling card. "Good luck with your daughter."

"Thank you, Your Grace, she is a sweet child, but I think she may need all the luck she can get."