A Matter of Honor (10 page)

The days passed slowly. Aggie tried to teach Cecilie the fundamentals of needlepoint. She made an amusing picture, peering intently down at her work while the monkey on her shoulder mimicked her expression of concentration. But soon Cecilie would fling the work aside and jump up to do something more active.

“Aggie,” she cried one morning, “I am going absolutely mad shut up here.”

“We’ll be going to the theater in several days,” Aggie reminded her. “You’ll get to see a lot of people then.”

“I know. But I want to do something
now.
I’m so dreadfully, dreadfully bored.”

“I know
,
dear.” Aggie put aside her sewing. “But that’s natural. We were all so excited about your ball. Now that it’s over we are naturally feeling a little lost and let down. That will pass as soon as we begin to go out.” For some unaccountable reason her mind presented her with a picture of herself in Denby’s arms, being whirled around the floor to the pulsating rhythm of the waltz. “I’ll tell you what. It’s such a lovely day out. Why don’t we take Dillydums and go out in the courtyard for a while? But be sure to put him on his leash.”

Cecilie nodded. “All right. I’m awfully tired of sitting up here. I wish there were an easier way of getting a husband.”

Aggie allowed herself a small smile. “After all, my dear, you will be spending the rest of your life with this man. A person should take her time in making such a decision.”

“I suppose so,” said Cecilie, her eyes widening with mischief. “But think how much simpler it would be if we could just go to a market, or a fair, like Papa did to buy horses!” Her eyes lit up with merriment. “Just think, all the men could line up and we could go along and inspect their looks.” She giggled. “Even their teeth as Papa used to do with the horses.”

“But men cannot be bought and sold,” protested Aggie, trying to stop a little smile that insisted on tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, I know that.” Cecilie brushed the objection aside. “And they could have a big card suspended behind them that told important things, like
‘
good dancer
,’
‘
crack horseman
,’
and the like,” She burst into a sudden fit of laughter and Aggie could not forbear laughing, too.

“What is it now, you little minx?” she asked. “What has your imagination been conjuring up?”

Cecilie resumed a straight face. “I was just thinking how very ideal such a situation would be for me.” And she burst into laughter again.

Aggie waited patiently. It was good to see Cecilie merry once more.

When she stopped laughing, Cecilie wiped at her eyes. “Shut your eyes, Aggie. Just keep them shut and imagine what I tell you.”

Aggie nodded and obediently closed her eyes.

“First, it’s a great building, built in a big circle, sort of like the amphitheater. And all around the edges are little cubbyholes, sort of like stalls. Over each one hangs the sign.”

Aggie’s imagination built such a building for her and furnished it as Cecilie described. Then it stopped in front of one of the cubbyholes.

“The men stand or walk about, showing themselves off,” continued Cecilie. “Can you see his lordship among them?”

Without opening her eyes, Aggie nodded again. She could see him quite plainly.

“He’s wearing riding boots,” Cecilie went on. “And inexpressibles of tan Bedford cord.”

Aggie nodded again. She could see him as clearly as if he stood before her.

“And,” said Cecilie in triumphant tones, “every man’s chest is bare!”

Aggie’s eyes flew open with the shock, but not before her mind had presented her with a very clear picture of the Earl’s unclad chest, the shadowy mat of hair. “Cecilie! You must not say such things! They are not proper for young ladies to discuss.”

“But, Aggie, wouldn’t it be a good idea?” persisted Cecilie. “Think how nice it would be. We could walk up and down the aisles, admiring all the gentlemen.”

By now Aggie’s shock had somewhat abated. She shook her head. “Oh
,
Cecilie. But what if the tables were turned and we were on display? I collect you would not like that so much.”

Cecilie tossed her blond head and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I don’t know. It wouldn’t be too bad. I could look at the gentlemen while they looked at me. And you know
,
Aggie,” she said in sudden seriousness, “all this is really not so far from the truth.”

Aggie gazed at her in astonishment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s sort of what the come out was for - to exhibit me. And when we go to the theater, we are on display. So are the gentlemen.”

Aggie considered this. “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “But certainly society would not look with much favor on your plan.”

Cecilie’s sigh was only partly exaggerated. “I suppose not. The
ton
is very dishonest. Always hiding the truth from itself.”

“Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it is
polite,
“commented Aggie.

Cecilie shrugged. “Everyone knows that the marriage business is exactly that - a business. I don’t know what they hope to achieve by deceiving themselves.”

Privately, Aggie thought that her ward had reached quite a mature understanding on the subject. But, knowing Cecilie’s characteristic honesty, she thought it wiser not to tell her so. It would obviously not do her any good to advance such opinions among the
ton
,
and it might do her a good deal of harm.

“Shall we go down to the garden now?” said Aggie, and Cecilie
,
snapping the monkey’s leash, nodded.

At the bottom of the front stairs they were met by Bates. “His lordship wishes to see you in the library,” he said.

Aggie nodded. “Very well
,
Bates. We shall go directly there.” She glanced at the monkey. “Perhaps you should call a footman to return Dillydums to the room. He does not do so well when his - when we are having a discussion.” It might be common knowledge that Dillydums couldn’t stand his lordship, but she did not intend to mention the matter to his servants.

“Yes, miss,” said Bates, taking the monkey from Cecilie.

“What do you suppose he wants?” asked Cecilie as they moved off down the hall.

“I’ve no idea,” replied Aggie. “But we shall soon know.”

She paused at the door to draw a deep breath. As always, the thought of seeing Denby was disturbing to her. She followed Cecilie into the room.

The Earl looked up from his desk. “Come in, ladies. Be seated. We have a matter to discuss.”

Aggie and Cecilie took the proffered seats and turned to the Earl in expectation. He drew up a chair facing them. “The come out was quite successful,” he said, “and has resulted in Cecilie receiving several offers.”

Cecilie caught her breath.
“
Wh-who
?”
she stammered.

The Earl did not seem to hear her. “So far you have received three offers. Two of them need no discussion. The men are not suitable and I dismissed them. The third, however, seems quite an eligible connection.”

“Who?” repeated Cecilie, by how having regained her breath.

“I am coming to that,” said the Earl patiently. “This man is eminently suitable. He has quite a lot of property. He has agreed to very favorable terms on the jointure in the event you are made a widow. He seems genuinely fond of you. I advise you to accept him.”

“His name!” cried Cecilie impatiently. “Tell me his name.”

“The Marquess Connors,” announced the Earl.

“No! No! No! I’ll never marry that -that
-”

Aggie had expected some such outburst; still, she was startled by its vehemence. Could Cecilie never do things in an ordinary, reasonable way? Why couldn’t she say a simple no and let it go at that?

By now Cecilie was on her feet, dramatically clutching her handkerchief. “I’ll never marry such a man,” she declared again.

The Earl’s face clouded and his brows began to draw together. “Sit down, Cecilie. There is no need to give me a Cheltenham tragedy. Why don’t you like Connors?”

Cecilie resumed her seat with an aggrieved air of martyrdom. “He’s a stuffy old man,” she pouted. “All he did was lecture and scold about horses and the cost of racing.”

The Earl nodded. “He recently lost a bundle and swore off racing.”

“That’s hardly my fault
,
” said an affronted Cecilie. “Besides that, he’s an old, old man. Older even than you.”

A certain tightening around Denby’s
mouth told Aggie that this hit had scored. “The man is not that old,” said his lordship. “I can’t send you off with some little lordling
still tied to his papa’s purse strings.”

Cecilie stared at him def
i
antly. “I will not be married to some dreadful old man,” she cried angrily. “And you shall not make me. Not even if you lock me in the attic and feed me only bread and water!”

Aggie felt a giggle bubbling up in her throat; sometimes Cecilie’s dramatics were quite amusing. One look at his lordship’s face, however, caused her to swallow the giggle immediately.

“You are being quite ridiculous,” he said sternly. “I should do no such thing.” He paused and seemed to be contemplating even worse atrocities.

“Who were the other two?” asked Aggie in an effort to ease the strain.

“It doesn’t matter,” replied the Earl. “They were not at all suitable.”

Aggie nodded and was surprised to hear Cecilie say, “I think I have the right to decide that.”

“Cecilie, really. The Earl knows best about such things.” Couldn’t the girl tell his lordship was near to exploding? The way his dark brows drew together, the stiff erect way he sat in his chair, and the grim tightening of his mouth, certainly indicated as much.

“It’s my life,” insisted Cecilie. “And I have a right to know.”

The Earl shrugged. “So far as I know I am in charge here. As your guardian I am empowered to turn away anyone I please. The f
i
nal decision is mine.”

“That’s not fair,” screamed Cecilie
,
again jumping to her feet and beginning to pace around the room in a distracted fashion. “I am the one who has to live with the man, aren’t I?” she demanded angrily.

“I have not overlooked that.” The Earl was obviously doing his best to keep his temper in hand. “But I know these two. They are both fortune hunters of the worst stripe. There is no way that I would let you marry either of them.” His black brows met in the line that indicated his anger. “The matter is closed. We will not discuss it further.” He glared at her until she resumed her seat.

But Cecilie was not cowed. Even as she sat there, she returned his glare defiantly.

The Earl spoke slowly, evenly, and his tones carried the greatest authority. “The Marquess is an honorable man. It ill behooves you to dismiss his suit so lightly.” He paused, fixing his eyes on her sternly. “The Marquess has requested permission to call. I have given it to him. You may expect him this afternoon.”

Cecilie’s chin jutted out stubbornly. “I won’t see him,” she declared angrily. “I despise the man.”

“You
will
see him,” the Earl replied harshly. “And behave civilly. Otherwise you will no longer have a monkey for a pet.”

Cecilie jumped to her feet, her face gone white at the threat. “You - you wouldn’t!” she cried in a voice that broke.

Aggie felt real concern for the girl. It was not Cecilie’s fault that she had always gotten her own way. This was quite a painful awakening for her. And his lordship was not helping at all with his tyrannical, highhanded ways.

“You mistake your man,” he said curtly, “if you think I make empty threats. I shall do anything necessary to getting you safely wed. Anything!”

The threat was quite real. Even Cecilie saw that. She faced him for one long moment while the tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks. When finally she spoke, her voice was strained. “You are a despicable man,” she declared. “Quite the most depraved and cruel person that I have ever had the misfortune to know.” And holding herself in wounded dignity she marched slowly from the room.

Aggie got to her feet to follow. Cecilie needed her now as she had never needed her before.

“Miss Trimble
!”
The Earl’s words rolled through the room like thunder. Automatically Aggie fell back into the chair, her heart pounding in her throat. This was ridiculous
,
she told herself, her annoyance growing. Just because he had bungled the thing, he thought he could yell at
her.

She raised her eyes to his. “Yes, milord?” She deliberately kept her voice low and even in the hope that he would take a rebuke from it.

Whether he took the hint was impossible to say. He did, however, modulate his tone somewhat. “I wish to speak to you. You can go to Cecilie later.”

Aggie cast a look toward the door. In her present mood it was diff
i
cult to say what Cecilie might do. “I really should go to her
-”
she began.

Denby’s mask of composure slipped. “Later!” he snapped, his eyes flashing with pent-up anger. “I want to talk to you. Now.”

Aggie’s expression was not one of agreement, but she forced herself to nod. “Very well, milord. What do you want to talk about?”

He flashed her a look of pure rage. “About that idiot charge of yours! What else?”

Aggie felt her hackles rising. All this was his own fault. If he weren’t such a bully -”Cecilie is not an idiot,” she said.

The Earl grimaced as though in pain. “She certainly behaves like one! She’s impossible.”

He stared at her for several minutes while she searched her mind for some reply, but decided to make none. Rational discussion with a person in such a rage was well nigh impossible.

“Well, have you nothing to say?” he demanded crossly. “I don’t know why you obstruct me like this. Surely the girl’s marriage will benef
i
t you, too!”

Now Aggie’s hackles were really up. She rose quite steadily to her feet and returned his angry glare with one of her own. “You mistake yourself, milord.
I
do not obstruct your plans. You do that quite well yourself.” She continued to gaze into his blazing gray eyes, she had no other choice. She would not behave like some abject hireling.