All of these facts Cecil knew simply from his years as a semiresident of Sutton Manor. Yet since Eunice’s arrival, he had learned more. Cecil and Eunice had shared more than lessons; they had shared tea and conversation. Eunice confessed that even though Eric was a skilled businessman, he had proven inept in managing the life of his young niece, a girl thrust upon him by default after the death of his youngest sister, since May was busy tending to their sick mother at the time. Wanting to be a good uncle but helpless when faced with a dependent girl, Eric sent her off to a reputable though indifferent boarding school and hoped for the best.
Eunice had confided to Cecil that her time there was not among her fondest memories. When she requested a pound or two for clothing, Eric favored practical and inexpensive cotton and wool the servants spun on his estate to the imported silks a young woman of Eunice’s station was expected to wear on grand occasions. He considered ribbons and other embellishments a waste. Eunice always felt out of place among the other girls and was more content to spend time in the library or with her sewing. The result was that many of her classmates mistook Eunice for a near-poverty case or for an eccentric rather than for the refined lady she was.
As Eunice had confided the reality of her past, Cecil found himself admiring the fact that her voice held no bitterness or rancor. He had long ago concluded that no yardage of ribbons nor any number of exquisite buttons or other trims could have transformed his serious and studious Eunice into a frivolous coquette. He smiled at an image he formed in his mind, a fantasy of Eunice gaining high marks while her foolish classmates barely passed their courses.
He glanced at Giles. How could such a dandy hope to keep a thoughtful woman such as Eunice happy? Although Giles did not bear the black marks on his reputation that Cecil had earned, he was still nothing more than a vapid peacock. Yet for all his flaws, Giles was far more suitable for Eunice than Cecil, a cad who was learning manners to woo her cousin.
Olivia. A picture of her formed in his mind. She was scolding him, ridiculing him, telling him both directly and indirectly that she disdained him. An even more undesirable picture of Olivia dancing with that dog Loughton popped into his head. He shook it out and tried to concentrate on the order of worship.
❧
As Eunice read through the order of worship along with the rest of the congregation, she eyed Cecil sitting beside her and Giles beyond. If she harbored any doubts about Lord Giles’s intentions, his insistence on sitting on her pew—even going so far as to push Cecil over—left no doubt that Lord Giles would soon be asking her aunt if he would be allowed to court her. Yet instead of desiring the attentions of an eligible bachelor, she longed for one who was no longer eligible.
Cecil. Happiness filled her heart when he asked to sit with her. Why did the gossips have to deny her what small amount of pleasure she could derive from being near him? Not one to call attention to herself, Eunice squirmed when suddenly her pew had become the source of entertainment. Why, she wondered, did they seem to condemn a man who was making a valiant effort to reenter the life of the church? They should be rejoicing at his return.
With a deliberate motion, she tilted her nose slightly skyward. She, for one, was glad Cecil had come to worship. She was entitled to sit beside anyone she wished during church. Wagging tongues would never cause her to hold her head down in shame.
Eunice recognized a few of the faces that turned to stare at them however briefly. Why did they insist on commenting on matters that were none of their concern? Perhaps they thought Cecil was interfering with the friendship between her and Giles. She suspected that many in the parish overestimated the significance of her acquaintance with Giles. No doubt Aunt May played a role in their misinterpretation. Her aunt considered Lord Giles a good match for Eunice, in spite of her protests that Giles held no fascination for her. Yet Aunt May would not be opposed to everyone in the village assuming that he was about to embark on a courtship with her niece.
Whatever their reasons, she could tell from their snobbish expressions that their thoughts were not pleasant. Eunice watched one of the women send a mean look Cecil’s way. Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe they weren’t thinking of Eunice and Giles but only of Cecil. She was all too aware that Cecil hadn’t set foot in church in years. He had admitted the fact himself.
They may live near Cecil now, but he is a stranger to them. They have not witnessed our lessons or Cecil’s willingness to read the Bible. They have no notion as to how much he has changed.
Despite her reassurances to herself, Eunice felt her cheeks burn. Throughout the service, she held her head up and looked the vicar straight in the eye as he preached.
“Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” The words of Christ rang in her ear, seemingly sent to her as a message from heaven during the benediction. Shutting the hymnal, she caught a glimpse of two matrons eyeing them, then giggling like young girls. Eunice wished she could stroll up to them and suggest they read Matthew 19:19. If not for her reluctance to embarrass her aunt, she might well have given in to her impulse.
Cecil nodded a farewell to her and hurried out of the church. Not that she blamed him. If she had been subjected to as many stares and whispers as he, especially in the Lord’s house, Eunice would have fled after the benediction, too. Watching him leave, she wished she could invite him to Sunday dinner. A firm shake of her aunt’s head told her not to dare. Just as quickly, she nodded once toward Giles, indicating she might invite him to dinner. Eunice decided not to respond to the silent hint.
Thankfully, the brigadier general shared an anecdote with them on the way out of the sanctuary. For a time, Aunt May tittered with amusement at his story, and Eunice sent a polite nod now and again. Her aunt’s chatter gave Eunice a feeling that perhaps she wasn’t upset.
The sense of security was false, a fact she discovered as soon as the door of the carriage shut behind them. Aunt May set her mouth in an unwavering line and huffed. Since her aunt was sitting directly across from Eunice, she could experience the full impact of Aunt May’s displeasure. She began with a disapproving shake of her head.
Eunice swallowed. “Vicar Mooring gave an excellent sermon today, did he not?”
“Vicar Mooring always gives an excellent sermon. Not that I could listen to it while experiencing a fit of apoplexy.”
“Apoplexy?”
“Yes. Apoplexy.” Aunt May huffed. “The thought of having to share my pew with such a. . .such a–a. . .”
“Christian?”
Aunt May’s eyes narrowed. “Do not make light of what I have to say. You know perfectly well that was not what I was thinking. I want to know why you allowed that awful man to sit beside you in church today.” Her voice was so shrill that Eunice barely recognized it as belonging to her beloved aunt.
Eunice wasn’t sure how to answer. “What awful man?”
“Lord Sutton, of course,” Aunt May responded in a studiously even voice, indicating her patience with Eunice was evaporating.
A pang of hurt shot through Eunice. How could Aunt May berate Cecil? She hardly knew him. Despite her fear of incurring her aunt’s wrath, Eunice had to defend him. “But Auntie, you allow me to go to Sutton Manor and teach him etiquette on a regular basis. How could I spurn him in church and call myself a Christian?”
“As your guardian, my task is not to answer philosophical questions but to see to it that you conduct yourself in a manner befitting your birth. Your mention of the lessons brings me to another point, one I have been meaning to express for some time.” She leaned closer to Eunice. “I know I encouraged you to teach him as a favor to your dear friend. And I think your visits to Sutton Manor have resulted in a quite pleasant renewal of your acquaintance with Abigail.”
Eunice thought about the happy times she had shared with her friend since returning to the country. “I agree most heartily.”
“But I must ask how much etiquette exists in the world for you to teach anyone, even someone as reprehensible as Lord Sutton. Surely the le
ssons should be coming to a close soon.”
“And they shall. But now we are undertaking a study of great literature. I told him that all gentlemen should be educated.”
“And has he not been educated?”
“Certainly so. But he has not darkened the door of the library in years. A rereading of the classics is in order, I think. And you will be so pleased to know that we are including the Bible in his studies.”
“Of course that pleases me, but you are not the vicar.”
“No, but the vicar has many parishioners, while I have none. Surely we need to discuss Cecil’s progress and what he has read.”
Aunt May sniffed. “Such subjects are far more suited to be approached by the mind of a man than by that of a woman. If Lord Sutton has anything to discuss, he can approach his brother.” Obviously satisfied that she had made her point, she sat back in her seat.
“But Abigail—”
“You can still visit Abigail without the flimsy pretext of teaching manners to her brother-in-law. In fact, I encourage it.”
Eunice hugged her Bible to her chest. At least her aunt wasn’t forbidding Eunice to go to the Sutton estate. Surely she would be able to see Cecil.
“I see that smile on your face,” Aunt May noted. “Do not think I approve of Lord Sutton. I never did. I never have. And I never will.”
Eunice felt her eyes widen. She couldn’t remember her aunt ever being so harsh. “But Auntie, he has come so far—”
“Not far enough to continue his association with you, I’m afraid. The way everyone reacted to his presence in church today should be proof enough.”
Eunice felt her face flush hot when she remembered the murmurs that reverberated throughout the church when Cecil sat beside her.
“If you allow him to appear as more than an acquaintance toward you in such a public place, no doubt your reputation will soon be damaged beyond repair.”
“I do not judge a person by what others think. Our Lord and Savior cautioned us not to judge, lest we should be judged.”
“ ‘And with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.’ ” Aunt May crossed her arms. “Since I do not live the life of a reprobate and because the death of my brother has left you within the realm of my responsibility, I believe it is my duty to render judgment where appropriate. And I judge Lord Sutton to be unfit for your company except on those occasions when you are teaching him to help your friend. So with that judgment in mind, I forbid you to see Lord Sutton again.”
Eight
Eunice didn’t bother to hold back a gasp. How could her aunt, usually so loving and kind, deliver such a harsh edict? “Never see him again?”
“That is what I said.”
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the manor house.
“I suggest we not discuss this any further.” Aunt May disembarked before Eunice could object.
Perhaps Aunt May was right. Eunice needed to absorb the impact of this unexpected edict. In the course of a few days, Eunice had journeyed from feeling victorious in her efforts to help Cecil to being banished from his presence. Her throat tightened at the thought. Unable to speak, she hurried her pace so it was just short of a run. She rushed up the steps, through the front door, and scurried over the curved stairs to her room. She had to refresh her toilette for Sunday dinner. Eunice looked straight ahead and made sure to avoid eye contact with anyone. She didn’t want the servants to see her cry.
As they sat down to dinner an hour later and Aunt May said grace, Eunice could barely concentrate on the lovely roast of beef, gravy, parsnips, and potatoes set before her. Under any other circumstances, she would have found delight in such a savory offering. But upset by the prospect of not seeing Cecil again, she found her appetite lacking.
Aunt May, pretending that nothing was amiss, talked about the sermon as she usually did, asking Eunice’s opinion from time to time. Eunice was too upset to do much more than agree with her aunt’s observations.
“Eunice,” Aunt May finally said after she had reviewed every sentence of the message, “must you pick at your dinner?”
“Everything is very good, but I am not hungry, Aunt May.”
“Really! Are you so besotted with that terrible man?” Aunt May patted her mouth with her napkin with more flourish than needed.
“I am not besotted. And please do not keep referring to Cecil in such unflattering terms.”
“Your defense of him only proves that you are indeed besotted.”
Unwilling to argue with her aunt, Eunice took a sip of tea.
“You cannot deny it. I thought so. But my dear, your feelings are pointless,” Aunt May observed. “Do you not remember that he is thinking of a betrothal to your cousin Olivia? What kind of family relation would you be to try to steal her fiancé away from her?”
“Olivia does not love him.”
Aunt May laughed. “Silly goose. They have been courting for years. Of course she does.”
“She does not. She told me so herself.”
“I do not believe it. Why would she share such a confidence with you, a cousin she barely knows?”
“I am not sure she set out to share her feelings with me, but she mentioned it in conversation. I really have no notion that she even wants to marry at all.”
“How absurd,” Aunt May said between bites of food. “Every woman wants to wed.”
“But you did not.”
“No.” Aunt May’s eyes grew sad, and her features slackened with regret. “My beau was shot in the colonies’ revolt. I had no offers after that.”
“I am sorry. I know you would have made a fine wife.”
“That is in the past. Too long ago to even think of anymore.” Aunt May reached over and patted her hand. “I am concerned now with your welfare and with the peace of this family.”
“I know, and I love you for it, Aunt May. But I have done nothing wrong, nor do I intend to.” Eunice took a sip of tea and let the reassuring warm liquid comfort her body and soul.
“Then you must remember, whether or not Olivia loves him, or if he loves her, is none of your affair,” Aunt May said. “You were asked to help your cousin, not to hinder her marriage. And while love is a nice thing, it is a luxury. Most of the women I know marry to increase their fortunes.”
“If she is marrying for money, then that hardly makes Olivia honorable. If she were a better stewardess of the money she has, she would not need to marry a man she does not love just to increase her fortune.”
“Her honor is her own affair and between God and herself. Her intentions are not for you to judge.”
“I can assess the situation when it affects me and act accordingly,” Eunice assured her.
“My, what a worldly attitude. I do believe his bad characteristics are affecting you for the worse, Eunice. All the more reason why you should not see him anymore.”
“But I have no notion that I can avoid seeing him. You already said I am free to visit Abigail.”
“True. Though I wish she were not related to such a sorry brother-in-law, I do not think your friendship should be compromised.”
“But Cecil is trying to change,” Eunice said. “In fact, he has changed.”
“Then how did he summon up the nerve to go to church after all these years and ask to sit with us in our family pew? Why did his own brother not allow him to sit with his family?”
“Tedric and Abigail would not have turned him away. They would never do such a thing, no matter how badly he might have behaved in the past.”
“Then why did he ask to sit with us?”
Eunice thought for a moment. “I do not know. Perhaps he arrived at our pew first.”
“Yes, we are closer to the back. How convenient.”
“How unfortunate. His action made the situation so much more difficult for the local gossips, who had to turn their heads to see him.” Eunice knew her voice held the edge of the sarcasm she couldn’t help but convey.
“They turned their heads and wh
ispered in disbelief, no doubt. How dare he return to our church after all these years.” Aunt May’s voice took on a hard edge that Eunice wasn’t accustomed to hearing from her.
“Aunt May, I beg your pardon, but I am quite shocked that you would object. You are well aware I am teaching him manners. To deny him a seat in our pew would have been the height of rudeness. How could I not act like a lady when I am teaching him how to be a gentleman? Can you deny that the very fact he is going to church is a sign that he is making progress?
“A point that only proves that he no longer needs lessons.”
“You did not seem to object when Lord Giles asked to sit with us,” Eunice couldn’t help but point out. “After he forced us to squeeze together so, I wondered how any of us could breathe at all. Certainly he could have sat with his sister, Lady Violet.”
“Of course. But I do believe I saw Lady Violet with Sir Roderick.”
“Oh, they are courting?”
“Yes, and I believe there will be a marriage proposal from Sir Roderick soon. Really, Eunice, how could you not have known? You really do need to get out more.” Aunt May stirred her tea. “And that is yet another good reason why you no longer need to see Lord Sutton. He is consuming far too much of your time, when you could be looking over potential marriage prospects here. And I do believe Brigadier General Tarkington would more than agree.”
The mention of Brigadier General Tarkington caused Eunice to see her aunt’s real motive. The local gossips didn’t bother her any more than they did Eunice. But Aunt May did care what her new suitor thought. Eunice sensed that the stern and disciplined military man would have no patience with an idle gentleman such as Cecil.
Lady And The Cad Page 10