A Matter of Honor

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  Cecilie smiled. Aside from being a little mussed, she looked quite well. “Really, Aggie, I am fine. It was a wonderful trip. A bit chilly, perhaps, but Mr. Sadler gave me his jacket.” Here she cast a patronizing glance at his lordship. “And it was just marvelous looking down on everything. The houses were so very tiny.”

  Suddenly Aggie realized that Cecilie was without the monkey. “Where is Dillydums?” she asked.

  Cecilie’s white forehead puckered in a frown. “One of the grooms has him. He didn’t like it in the carriage. But he loved it up in the balloon. You should go up sometime, Aggie, you really should.”

  The Earl, whose face had grown increasingly more baleful through this recital, now broke in. “Miss Trimble will do no such thing,” he said gruffly. “The journey home has been long and tiring. I suggest you go to your room and rest before dinner.”

  Cecilie’s face took on a strange expression, but her tone was demure enough. “Yes, milord,” she said and moved toward the stairs.

  As Aggie turned to follow her, she felt a warm hand on her arm. The shivers that sped over her caused her to flush. “Just a minute. Miss Trimble,” said the Earl. “I wish a word with you.” He waited until Cecilie had disappeared from view. “We have got to do something,” he said harshly, “before this girl either kills herself or ruins her reputation completely.”

  Aggie could only nod.

  The Earl frowned and she felt her heart contracting. “If only she had not refused Connors. He could keep her in line.”

  “I doubt that, milord.” Aggie spoke without thinking and was distressed to see his frown deepen.

  “The girl needs a strong hand,” he said sternly. “She must be mastered.”

  Sudden waves of fury poured over Aggie. How pigheaded could the man be? “Cecilie is not a horse,” she snapped. “She cannot be broken like one.”

  “Neither can she be permitted to run loose through the city, leaving havoc in her wake,” he replied gruffly.

  Aggie felt her anger rising. “I did not permit her to run loose,” she cried. “I did my very best to keep her in hand. You were the one who said she could go. Balloon flights indeed! You might know that Cecilie would get into mischief at such an event. And anyway, if you knew more about her, you would know that it was you who prevented her from accepting the Marquess.”

  The Earl glared at her, his brows making the straight line that denoted his anger and his eyes flashing. “You’re talking nonsense,” he said harshly. “Utter nonsense. The girl was dead set against the man before he ever offered.”

  Aggie was quivering with rage now. She was tired of taking the blame for everything. And, inexplicably, just at that moment, her mind presented her with a vivid picture of Lady Alicia gazing up at Denby with flattering eyes. “If you did not have such a good opinion of yourself as a man who can handle women,” she said boldly, “you might have considered asking for advice. Cecilie, thank God, is not deceived by your charming manners or your good looks. She cannot be flattered into acceding to your wishes.”

  His frown deepened and he took a step closer. “Nor can she be bullied,” Aggie hurried to add, her heart rising up into her throat.

  The Earl grabbed her arms and gazed down intently into her eyes. “Then Aggie, in the name of heaven, will you tell me how the girl can be handled - guided into a decent marriage?”

  His eyes bored into hers and Aggie felt herself sinking into their depths. She almost forgot that they were quarreling. Suddenly she wanted to help him. “Sometimes...” Her voice faltered with the intensity of her emotions. “Sometimes I have gotten her to do what I wished by - by absolutely forbidding it. If you had a likely candidate, a young man,” she added, “you might get her to form a partiality for him by being very unkind to him and forbidding him to call.”

  For more long moments he stared at her, his fingers biting into her arms, and then he laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “Do you mean that in attempting to drive her from Parrington, I may have been driving her to him?”

  She nodded.

  Anger flared into his eyes again and he shook her slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  His anger caused hers to return. “You have not asked for the benefit of my experience,” she reminded him icily. “Instead you have chosen to blame me for everything that goes wrong.”

  His dark face hardened. “Perhaps I have,” he admitted, his voice in no way apologetic. “But then, perhaps I have had good cause.”

  “You are absolutely hopeless,” Aggie cried, fanning her anger higher. That could not be hurt she had seen in his eyes just then. “You are so puffed up with your own importance that it is sickening.”

  She almost cried aloud as he shook her again, more harshly. But still she glared at him defiantly. “I have spoken the truth,” she insisted. “And I am not sorry. You can’t bully me into submission.”

  Something strange flickered momentarily in his eyes and to her surprise he relaxed his grip on her. She stepped quickly away from him, her hand seeking the banister for support. “Perhaps, milord, I should seek another position.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, yet she knew the rightness of such an action.

  The Earl’s face darkened further. His mouth settled into a line of grim determination and his eyes turned cold and hard as stone. “Perhaps you are right. After all, I can dismiss you any time I please, can’t I?” And his eyes raked her coldly.

  Aggie fought the panic that threatened her as the idea of never seeing him again pressed itself sharply into her consciousness, but she managed to remain calm. “You needn’t bother to dismiss me,” she said curtly. “I’ll begin looking for another place tomorrow.”

  “You may find it rather difficult,” he said harshly, his eyes veiled.

  She looked at him sharply. “I don’t see why. I am a competent companion.”

  The Earl’s mouth tightened cruelly. “I doubt that some indulgent papas would think so. After all, your charge has done some rather scatterbrained things, hasn’t she? That is hardly good advertisement for your proficiency.”

  Aggie felt the scarlet flooding her cheeks. “I did not know that Cecilie’s escapades were public knowledge.” She managed to get the words out without stammering, but the threat behind his words was apparent.

  His smile did nothing to put her at ease. “Perhaps they are not.” He grimaced. “I have certainly done everything humanly possible to prevent the wagging of tongues.” His eyes grew even colder. “However, it will be difficult to hush up the last matter. And besides that, there is the small matter of references.”

  Aggie gasped as though she had been struck and her hand went unconsciously to her breast. “Do you mean to say -”

  His lordship nodded. His mouth set in a stubborn line, he shrugged his broad shoulders eloquently. “I must tell the truth, must I not?”

  “You know very well -” Aggie began, but he silenced her with a hard look.

  “Listen, Aggie -” He saw her wince in pain at the use of her given name and his eyes grew darker. “I will put the matter to you quite plainly. You are Cecilie’s companion. You will remain so until the girl is married and you collect your inheritance. I have decided that it will be this way.” His eyes moved over her angrily, leaving her trembling like an aspen in a storm. “I believe you know enough of the ton to understand the efficacy of a well-placed whisper.”

  Aggie felt as though she had been slapped. “This...” she faltered. “This is blackmail, clear and simple. How dare you!” Her breasts heaved in indignation under the thin muslin gown. “How dare you do such a thing!”

  “I am the Earl of Denby.” He said the words clearly, spacing them for effect. “I do as I please.” His eyes glinted cruelly. “The sooner you realize this, the better we shall deal together.”

  She knew he was right. He had all the power, all the force of society was behind him. She was nothing - a poverty-stricken little companion, indebted to him for the very food she ate. “You would r
eally ruin my life?”

  A muscle twitched in the side of his jaw, but his tone was steady and his eyes remained hard and cold. “The choice is yours. Miss Trimble. Nothing need be ruined. Nothing at all.”

  She dug her nails into her palms; the pain of it - clean physical pain - might help clear her head. “I seem to have no choice,” she said finally. “No choice at all.”

  His eyes softened for a moment and he took a step toward her. “Aggie, it doesn’t have to be like this. I could -”

  “No thank you, milord.” She cut him off before he could finish his dishonorable offer. “Understand this. I will remain as Cecilie’s companion because I must. But I will run into the street penniless - and - and naked, before I consent to become anything to you!”

  She saw the pain in his eyes before he could veil it, sharp and bitter as her pain had been, and she wondered again how he could imagine himself the injured party.

  “I quite understand you,” he replied harshly, his eyes smoldering down at her. “My reasons for keeping you here have to do with Cecilie - nothing more.”

  With the memory of his searing kisses still imprinted on her memory, she could not believe this. But it was safer to let it pass, safer not to discuss the thing further. “If that is all,” she said, her head still proudly high, “then I shall go up to Cecilie.”

  Denby nodded. “That will do. I suppose it is futile to ask, but you might use whatever wiles you possess to convince the girl that young Sadler is not an eligible connection.” He ran his hand wearily through his hair and for the first time she noticed the dark shadows of fatigue under his eyes.

  “I will do what I can,” she said. “Cecilie is a very romantic young woman. Logic does not have much effect on her.”

  His lordship laughed, loud and harshly. “As far as I can tell nothing sensible has much effect on her. She is a complete enigma to me.”

  He bowed his head wearily and she was aware that he had probably not slept all night. “I’ll go to Cecilie and you can get some rest.” The words were out before she realized their implication.

  His head snapped up and he looked at her sharply, as though surprised by her concern for him. “I’ll go to bed at bedtime,” he said. “I have an important dinner engagement.” He looked down at his soiled and dusty clothes. “And I have just time to wash and change.”

  The little sympathy she had felt for him because of his fatigue vanished completely. She had a clear vision of Lady Alicia waiting somewhere in a little room, the small intimate table lit by candles, the scent of expensive perfume in the air, the lady in a gown that revealed all her charms. “I hope you enjoy your dinner,” she said sharply and marched out so swiftly that she did not see the look of startled curiosity on his face nor the way he stroked his dark chin speculatively, as though her words revealed to him something of infinite interest.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day found them more or less settled back into their routine. Neither Cecilie nor Dillydums seemed any the worse for their flight. Indeed, Cecilie kept insisting that it had been great fun, a capital adventure. She took every opportunity to extol the pleasures of balloon flight to her companion.

  Aggie nodded absently. Being very much a ground kind of person, she could not wax enthusiastic about hanging high above the city. Descriptions of tiny houses and people the size of ants left her cold. Besides, she found it difficult to erase from her mind that last scene with the Earl. If only there were some way she could leave this place. But he had made it clear that she could not, that to do so would mean being penniless and ruining any chance of her finding another position. She also puzzled over that look of pain in his eyes. It could not be accounted for; it seemed too deep and genuine to be caused merely by disappointed desire. But she could find nothing else to account for it.

  She pondered over his strange behavior, trying not to recall the sinking sensation of submission that had overcome her in his arms. She must fight that with all her strength, she knew. For her mind insisted that to surrender to the Earl would mean eventual disaster. It was clear that he wanted her - as he had wanted her before, she told herself, yet more circumspectly then. But if he had suffered no qualms at leaving her then, when their love had been legitimate, how much easier it would be for him to dissolve an illegitimate union. Aggie knew well the ways of London’s bucks. They went from woman to woman as a bee goes from flower to flower, sipping the nectar and caring nothing for what they left behind. And she did not think she could stand having once known his love - no, she amended, his passion - and then being deserted. That would be the end of her reputation, her pride, her very life.

  Somehow she must cling to her resolves;

  she must refuse his advances, keep herself aloof until Cecilie was married. Then she at least would have the inheritance. There was nothing to do but hold on. No other answer.

  She was still going over and over events in her mind, looking for a way out when there was none, when Bates appeared at the door of the sitting room. He looked just a trifle dismayed. Aggie rose to her feet as he said, “If I might have a word with you. Miss Trimble.”

  “Of course. Bates.” She joined him by the door. “What is it?”

  “There’s a caller, miss.” Bates lowered his voice. “A Lord Parrington.”

  “Parrington!” Dismay made Aggie’s voice rise.

  “Yes, miss. He’s come to call on Miss Cecilie.”

  “Oh dear. Bates. Did his lordship leave no instructions?”

  “No, miss. I only know the last time he was here, the Earl looked rather angry when he left.”

  Aggie tried to think. “I wish we could send him away.”

  “I can’t do that, miss. Not without the Earl’s orders.”

  Aggie stood thinking. How could she tell what Denby wanted done? True, he had turned down Parrington’s offer, but he had not left any orders about Parrington himself. While she stood there, trying to decide, she heard footsteps in the hall.

  “Ahhh, here you are.” Lord Parrington’s voice was bright and cheerful. “My, how lovely you ladies look.”

  Cecilie, who had been gazing out the window, turned to greet him, a stern expression on her face. “Good day,” she said sharply, so sharply that Aggie, already agonizing about Denby’s reaction to such a call, was quite startled. Bates chose that moment to fade discreetly away.

  Even Lord Parrington seemed taken aback by Cecilie’s sharpness, but he quickly marshaled his wits and forced a smile. “Good day to you. Miss Winthrop.” He nodded to Aggie. “Miss Trimble.”

  “What do you want?” demanded Cecilie truculently.

  This time Parrington had more difficulty in appearing unmoved. “Why, I have come to pay a social call. To inquire after your health since your exposure in the balloon.”

  “My health is fine, thank you,” Cecilie replied flatly. There was something very wrong here, Aggie could see. Cecilie was being almost rude.

  “And your little friend Dillydums?” continued Parrington, ignoring her tone.

  Cecilie fastened him with a bellicose eye. “You needn’t inquire after Dillydums,” she said crossly.

  Lord Parrington settled himself somewhat uneasily on the edge of a chair. Clearly this call was not going as he had expected. “But my dear Miss Winthrop, I must. I was extremely upset by the thought of the poor thing’s plight. Shivering up there in the cold.”

  Aggie found that she was staring at them and resolutely picked up her needlework which was lying nearby. It was clear that Cecilie was going to handle this. She would need no help.

  Cecilie did not take a chair. She drew herself up to her full height and glared at the offending Parrington. “The game is up, milord,” she declared hotly.

  Parrington looked confused. And no wonder, thought Aggie. She herself did not fully understand what was occurring.

  “I said,” repeated Cecilie icily, “the game is up. There is no use in your trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

  “But, Miss Winthr -” Par
rington began.

  “Milord Parrington,” Cecilie said in her haughtiest tones. “You are quite wasting your time. I may be a young woman, and a trifle foolish about animals, but there is nothing wrong with my understanding - or my eyes.”

  “I don’t understand -” Parrington began.

  “The matter is quite apparent,” continued Cecilie coldly. “Your concern for animals is faked.” She held up a slim hand to halt his protest. “I have seen your horses, milord. I looked at them closely. They were not the cattle of a man who cares for his beasts. They were ill-fed and ill-treated.”

  Parrington was on his feet now. “Those were new horses, just bought,” he explained suavely. “The poor things need feeding up.”

  It was a palpable lie, thought Aggie, but really a rather good one under the circumstances. Cecilie was not convinced. “Good day. Milord Parrington. Kindly do not bother to call again. I shall not be in.”

  “But-”

  Calmly Cecilie turned her back on the man. For the merest fraction of a second Aggie saw the anger in his eyes, then he masked it and bade her good day. “I shall endeavor with all my might to change your harsh opinion of me,” he said to Cecilie’s rigid back; but she stiffly ignored him, as with one last ingratiating smile toward Aggie, he left the room.

  Moments later Cecilie turned from the window. Tears of rage stood out in her eyes as she faced Aggie. “That impossible man. I hate him!”

  “But, Cecilie,” Aggie could not help asking, “I thought you liked the man.”

  Cecilie frowned. “I did - before.”

  “Before?”

  “Before his lordship told me about Parrington’s horses.”

  “You believed his lordship?” The words were out before Aggie could stop them.

  “No,” said Cecilie with a little smile. “Not when he said it.” Her smile widened. “I do not believe much of what the Earl says.” She settled herself comfortably in a chair. “But it did give me cause to think. So I decided to find out.”