A Matter of Honor

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  “Thank you so much for holding him,” she said, giving the guard a warm smile. “I’m dreadfully sorry for the trouble he caused.”

  The guard grinned. “To tell you the truth, miss, I get terrible tired standing here. You understand. The same old thing everday, a man gets tired. But today now, that was something else. Just wait’ll I get home and tell my little one about it.” He chuckled. “Her eyes’ll get bigger ‘an saucers.”

  Aggie returned his smile. “Well, thank you for your help. I have to get back to my charge.”

  The guard nodded and, Aggie, clasping the monkey tightly, turned back to where she had left Cecilie. But to her dismay when she reached the spot, she found neither the girl nor Lord Gale. Quickly, ignoring the baleful glances that were coming her way from everyone now that she held the monkey, she made a survey of the large hall, but Cecilie was not in it.

  Making her second circuit of the room, she again passed the friendly guard and on an impulse stopped to ask him, “Have you seen a young lady in a blue gown and a gentleman with red hair? I seem to have lost them.”

  “The gentleman’s hair was real bright! And the lady, hers was golden?”

  “Yes. Did you see them?” Aggie asked eagerly.

  “Well, miss, it seems to me I saw such a pair going through that door over there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Miss,” said the guard, “there’s a little parlor through there. Like as not the gentleman was taking the lady in there to rest. It appeared like she was faintish. She leaned on him heavy like.”

  “Thank you.” As quickly as possible Aggie made her way toward the door. There was something very wrong here. Cecilie had never been faintish in her life. The vapors and the spasms were equally unknown to her. Oh, why had she consented to bringing the monkey? Aggie asked herself.

  She opened the door and hurried through. She was standing in a long hall and for a moment she hesitated, not knowing which way to go. Then she heard a soft girlish giggle from a room several doors down. The giggle sounded like Cecilie’s. It must be her, thought Aggie, clutching the monkey and hurrying in that direction. She burst through the door to find Cecilie reclining on a divan and Lord Gale bending solicitously over her. He straightened as Aggie entered. “Ahh, Miss Trimble. I was just about to come looking for you. Miss Winthrop seems to have recovered from her feeling of faintness.”

  Seeing the look on Aggie’s face, Cecilie quickly sat up. “Oh, you’ve got Dillydums! What a bad boy you are. Give him to me, Aggie.”

  Aggie shook her head. “No, Cecilie, I will keep the monkey. I have had quite enough of chasing him for one day. Since you are feeling better, I believe Lord Gale had best escort us to the carriage.”

  “Oh, but Aggie, I am quite recovered now. Really I am.”

  “That may well be,” replied Aggie dryly. “However, the patrons of the Royal Society are not. Nor is Dillydums. Have you no concern for him?”

  She did not miss the quick exchange of looks that took place between Cecilie and Lord Gale. Then the young man smiled and added his entreaties to Aggie’s. “Of course, Miss Trimble is quite correct. You must both go home and recuperate from this dreadful accident.” And Cecilie, though she was plainly unconvinced by his argument, nodded in acquiescence and got to her feet.

  In silence Aggie followed the pair to the street and watched while Lord Gale helped Cecilie into the carriage and gallantly kissed her hand. “Until we meet again, fair lady.”

  And that, thought Aggie as she climbed into the carriage, was going to be quite a long time if she had anything to say about it. She was not at all convinced that Dillydums’s escapade was an accident and even less sure that Cecilie’s meeting with Lord Gale had not been arranged. There was too much coincidence here for comfort and the knowledge that she would have to inform Denby of the day’s events did nothing to alleviate her feelings of unease.

  But, as they reached home after a quiet ride and she inquired of Bates concerning when she might see the Earl, she discovered that he was to dine out and did not expect to be home until very late. So, leaving a message with Bates that she wished a moment to speak to his lordship, she went about her other business.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day did not get off to a judicious beginning. After tossing and turning far into the night, Aggie finally fell asleep near dawn, with the result that she did not waken until far later than her usual hour. Her first act after dressing was to seek out Bates, from whom she learned that his lordship had already gone out and would speak to her later in the day. The usually even-tempered Aggie also snapped at the butler when given this piece of dismaying news and she took herself off to the garden to settle her nerves. She could not go about on edge like this until the Earl returned. And why, she asked herself angrily, hadn’t he had courtesy enough to have her wakened? Surely he knew she would not bother him about mere trifles.

  She reached the garden and sank down on the stone bench among the roses. Where had he been last night anyway? Probably in Lady Alicia’s boudoir. Aggie clenched her fists angrily. That woman made her so irritated. But at least he could have seen Aggie this morning. Her head went up sharply at a sudden thought. Perhaps he had not come home at all! Perhaps he had spent the entire night with Lady Alicia - and Bates was protecting him! That must be it, she thought, her anger fleeing and leaving behind only despair. She had no right to anger. She had refused his offer of carte blanche, refused it before he had really had a chance to make it. She sighed deeply. Much as she loved him, she could not so demean herself - in her own eyes, and eventually in his. Lady Alicia, however, seemed to have avoided any such qualms. She obviously gave her favors when and where she pleased. And right now she pleased to give them to the Earl of Denby.

  Aggie jumped suddenly to her feet. This kind of thinking was futile. She would go to the library and find something to expand her mind - and none of the poetry of that notorious Lord Byron either. That would only make matters worse. She would read in Boswell’s Life of Johnson or perhaps Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. What she needed was something heavy enough to occupy her thoughts.

  But shortly after midday Aggie had to admit that her plan had not worked. Dr. Johnson’s witticisms had failed to engage her attention and she had gotten no further than Gibbon’s first discussion of Roman civilization, which she had read some three or four times without taking the real sense of it. The truth of the matter was that until Denby returned and she had her chance to talk to him, she was going to remain uncomfortable in spite of all her efforts.

  It was about this time that Cecilie entered the library. They had not spoken about the incident at Somerset House: Aggie from fear she would lose her tightly-held temper and say something she regretted and Cecilie, quite probably, because she feared what such discussion might uncover.

  “I wonder if anyone will call today,” mused Cecilie as she nibbled on a hot scone and sipped the tea that Bates had brought them.

  “We can only wait and see,” said Aggie absently, her mind still on her coming interview with the Earl. She poured herself some tea and sat sipping it. If only they could get Cecilie safely married. Then she could free herself of the Earl, and open her school for young ladies. The prospect did not fill her with a great deal of enthusiasm, but she ignored that.

  The two sat in silence. Aggie tried to keep the Earl out of her mind by concentrating on Gibbon, an attempt doomed to failure. And Cecilie toyed with her scone and then her teacup, and finally having finished eating, got up to wander among the shelves as though seeking something to read.

  Because of her own abstracted state of mind it took Aggie some time to realize that Cecilie was not herself. There was an unusual brightness to her eyes and she seemed unable to settle anywhere.

  Just at this time there came the sound of the door knocker. Immediately Cecilie threw herself in a chair and clasped her hands lightly in her lap. Her face bore a look of bright expectancy and Aggie knew then that she had been correct. Cecili
e was expecting someone.

  Aggie’s heart fell as she recalled the surprised look between the girl and Lord Gale when finally she had found them. She bent her head to her book, determined not to say anything. If Lord Gale had called, it was entirely probable that the Earl had given orders that he was not to be admitted.

  Some moments later Bates appeared at the door. “A Lord Gale, Miss Trimble.” The old butler’s face reflected the merest hint of distaste and Aggie knew that he, too, found the young man unsuitable.

  “Please show him in,” said Aggie calmly. If the Earl allowed the man to call, it was not up to her to refuse him.

  Lord Gale appeared at the door and rushed across the room to grab Cecilie’s hand and convey it to his lips. “Ah, the hours have seemed like days since last I saw you,” he declared dramatically.

  Aggie choked back a laugh. The boy was really amusing. That’s all he was, really, a boy in his calf-time, hardly out of leading strings. How could Cecilie be so taken with him?

  She thought back to her own youth and the remembered joy she had felt when Denby had signaled her out for his attentions. But even then Denby had been a man, already on the town for some years, what was now called a prime article. This young man was just a youngster, hardly older than Cecilie herself.

  Gibbon went unheeded as Aggie covertly watched the two young people. Of course, Lord Gale was not a suitable husband for Cecilie, but at least he was not malicious and he might well be stricken by Cecilie’s fresh young charm.

  Young Gale made a long visit, all of which was entirely proper if somewhat effusive, and as he rose to go he kissed Cecilie’s hand and informed her that his life would be barren until he was once again privileged to gaze upon her loveliness. Whereupon he took his departure, beaming all the way out the door.

  “Isn’t he just the first style in elegance?” breathed Cecilie with a sigh.

  Aggie was pondering this, wondering how she could answer truthfully without pushing Cecilie into an impassioned defense of her suitor, when Bates appeared in the doorway to announce, “His lordship has returned and wishes to see you in the drawing room, Miss Trimble.”

  “Yes, of course.” Aggie rose to her feet, wondering as she did so if Denby had seen their caller. “I’ll be right there.” And she hurried past the butler, trying once more to calm her flurried nerves.

  She paused outside the drawing room for a moment, taking a deep breath. Already she was feeling shaky, knowing that she would soon be near him. She forced herself to enter the room. He was looking out the window at the street and she felt a rush of relief at the fact that he was wearing day clothes. He had not stayed out all night. Then he turned to face her and her knees began to tremble.

  “Bates said you wished to speak to me.” He was not glaring, but there was something about his calmness that seemed forced.

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Did it have to do with that Bond Street fribble that just left?”

  “Yes, milord.”

  Denby sighed heavily. “You may as well sit down and tell me about it.”

  Aggie sank somewhat gratefully into a chair. “You know that yesterday Cecilie and I visited the Royal Academy Exhibit at Somerset House.”

  Denby nodded. “I gave her permission. I didn’t see how she could get into mischief there.”

  It was Aggie’s turn to sigh. “She did. The monkey got loose and went rushing through the crowd. He caused considerable furor, especially among the older ladies.”

  The Earl grimaced. “Continue, there must be more to it than that.”

  Aggie nodded. “There is. I went after the monkey. When I returned with him, Cecilie had gone. I found her in a private room with Lord Gale. He had joined us shortly before the monkey got loose.” She took a deep breath. “I suspect that Cecilie let Dillydums loose on purpose. So as to be alone with the man. And I’m quite certain she knew he would call today.”

  “So much for your theory,” the Earl replied dryly. He seemed determined not to lose his temper again, but Aggie almost wished he would. She did not like the lines of weariness around his mouth or the cold way his eyes regarded her.

  “There is nothing wrong with my theory,” she said. “If we could find a suitable man, I am confident we could guide her into his arms. But perhaps we are worried too soon over Lord Gale.”

  One of Denby’s dark brows shot up. “I think not. The young fool simpered at me on his way out and said something about seeing me soon on a matter of some importance.”

  “Oh, dear!” Aggie could not keep back the exclamation of dismay. To turn Lord Gale away at this time might well cause serious problems with Cecilie. And yet he was obviously unsuitable. She tried to think. “Perhaps you could be out to him if he comes to call. At least for a little while.” She was conscious of Denby’s frown, but she knew she must continue. “You see, the problem is that Cecilie is really taken with him.”

  Denby’s other brow shot up momentarily. “I had begun to think the girl had some sense. Now I am doubtful.”

  Aggie sighed. “You must remember, milord, Cecilie is very young. This boy is, too.”

  The Earl made a gesture of protest. “It is precisely for that reason that he won’t do. Everything they had would be gone in a fortnight. Besides, I have reason to believe that his partiality for Cecilie is contrived.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that young Gale needs an heiress just as much as Parrington did. And the object of his affections is not Cecilie, but a sweet little ladybird who sings at Vauxhall Gardens.”

  “You’re lying!” Cecilie’s voice came from the doorway, startling them both.

  The Earl turned. “May I suggest that you come in and shut the door? People of quality do not shout at one another.”

  “I don’t care what people of quality do,” said Cecilie stubbornly, but she stepped into the room and shut the door.

  “Since you’ve heard this much,” said the Earl, “you may as well come sit down and hear the rest.”

  Cecilie sat down beside Aggie, but her chin jutted out stubbornly. “I know you’re lying about this. Henry adores me.”

  The Earl made a moue of disgust. “Henry,” he said with sarcastic emphasis, “adores your money. He has lost a great deal at White’s and his own funds are limited.”

  “There is nothing wrong with frequenting White’s,” Cecilie averred stubbornly. “Many men do.”

  Denby looked grim. “Many men lose a great deal at the tables and seek to recoup their losses with their wives’ funds. This is not a situation I should wish on my worst enemy, let alone on someone whose welfare is in my hands.”

  “He will stop gaming if I ask him,” Cecilie pouted prettily, but the effect was lost on the Earl.

  “A man does not give up gaming that easily,” his lordship returned. “Least of all for a woman he has married merely for her purse.”

  Cecilie clenched her fists and shook her head. “Henry loves me,” she repeated.

  Frowning, the Earl ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving it tumbled. “Cecilie, you must be sensible. What I said before is true. It’s common knowledge among the swells that Gale’s ladybird has been set up in a nice place in the suburbs - on the expectation that he will soon marry an heiress and be able to pay for her little establishment.”

  Cecilie’s face turned crimson. “You should not discuss such matters with me,” she cried. “A gentleman would not do so.”

  The Earl sighed wearily. “A lady would not eavesdrop on what was obviously a private conversation.”

  Cecilie’s chin went up. “I knew you were talking about me. And I thought maybe Henry had offered for me.” She glared at him. “It’s not fair. You treat me like a child.”

  “You are a child,” said the Earl, ignoring her protest. “You know very little of the ways of the world. If you did, you would see that I am trying to do my best for you.” He sighed again. “And you are making it very difficult for me.” There was a moment’s silence in which he se
emed to be waiting for a reply, but Cecilie vouchsafed none. Denby looked at Aggie in resignation.

  “Did he?” asked Cecilie suddenly.

  The Earl looked at her in surprise. “Did he what?”

  “Did Henry offer for me?”

  Denby’s brows began to draw together in that line Aggie knew so well. “No, he did not,” he said sternly. “And if he had, I should have refused him.”

  There, thought Aggie, who was watching Cecilie’s face, was his second mistake. The first had been in trying to destroy Cecilie’s belief in her suitor’s affection. In doing so he had attacked her image of herself, an image which she would fight bitterly to defend. And now he had erred again. A simple no would have been sufficient, but he had to go on and make matters worse.

  Cecilie got unsteadily to her feet. “I don’t care what you say,” she sobbed. “Henry loves me. I know he does. I shall never marry if you keep continually thwarting me like this!” And with a heartbroken sob she ran weeping from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Aggie stared down at her hands. Part of her heart was crying for Cecilie. If she had genuinely formed an affection for young Gale (which was, after all, possible), this was very painful for her.

  Denby shifted his gaze to her. “I suppose you’ll tell me I did it all wrong,” he said, fixing her with an angry eye.

  Aggie found herself bristling. If he had not been out so late with that scheming Lady Alicia, she could have warned him about Gale and they might have prevented all this. But no, he had to go to that woman who cared for no one but herself and now he was going to yell at Aggie. She glared back at him. “Well,” she said, getting to her feet and moving toward the fireplace, “you could have done better.”

  He, too, got to his feet and strode toward her. “How so?” he demanded truculently.

  Aggie forced herself to meet his eyes. “First, you insulted her by telling her that her Henry doesn’t love her.”