A Matter of Honor (11 page)

He took a step toward her, but she held her ground. “What are you talking about?” he growled.

“Your tyrannical ways. It’s quite clear that you’ve never dealt with anyone like Cecilie
before. But do you ask for advice or even try to figure out the best way to deal with her?” She had not thought his face could darken any further, but it did. She had never seen him so angry before, but suddenly she didn’t care. “Of course not,” she continued. “You merely go on in the same bullying manner, riding roughshod over everything in your way. Well,” she said, giving him a look of pity
,
“you’ve made a terrible mess of things. And it’s all your own conceited fault!” By the time she had f
i
nished this impassioned speech her bosom was heaving under the thin fabric gown and their eyes were locked in deadly combat.

It was with some surprise that Aggie realized the effect of her words, but it was too late now to take them back. Best just to leave him to his rage.

She turned toward the door, but he was there instantly, his hands gripping her upper arms cruelly. “Just a minute. You’re not going anywhere. Since you think you know so much,
you
tell me. How can Cecilie be handled?”

For some insane reason a picture of Lady Alicia sprang to life in Aggie’s head. “Surely a man like yourself,” she said caustically, “a man who’s been on the town these many years, knows that soft words and persuasion work better with young women than angry avowals of authority.” His face was very close to hers now and she felt her knees trembling with something akin to fear. But in spite of the fact that his f
i
ngers dug painfully into her arms, she was not physically afraid of him. This fear was of a different nature.

He stared at her for long seconds, his anger reflected in his eyes, his anger and something else she could not quite distinguish. When finally he spoke, there was a strained quality to his voice. “Soft words and persuasion,” he said gruffly. “And yet there are some women who reject even that.”

There is was again - that strange look in his eyes - of hurt. Yet how could that be? She had not hurt him.
He
was the one who had run away, left her without a word of explanation.

“You speak in riddles, milord,” she replied, making her voice as brisk as possible.

“Riddles, is it?” he snarled, pulling her sharply against his chest. “Soft words,” he repeated, his mouth against her hair. “And persuasion. They have gotten me nowhere at all.”

Her mind was a mass of confusion. He sounded almost as though he were speaking of the two of them. And he couldn’t be. She tried to wriggle free of his arms; the heat of his body, the male smell of him, the feel of his arms around her, all were causing her body to respond.

“Aggie!” he said, and the word was plea and groan combined. In her surprise she raised her eyes to his. There was only a brief moment when their gazes locked, but it was enough for Aggie to see what blazed there - desire. A shudder ran through her trembling body as she stood helpless in his arms. And then he bent his head and took her lips. Here was no softness, no persuasion. His mouth was hard and demanding
,
its pressure on hers insistent. She tried to fight him, to remain cold and impassive - a woman’s best defense in such a situation.

But she could not do it. Her own body rebelled against the constraints she tried to impose on it. There was no way she could fight both Denby and herself. It took all her effort to keep herself from throwing all judgment to the wind and giving herself up completely to him. She could not keep her lips from softening and opening under his, or her body from melting against his hardness. She did manage not to throw her arms around his neck in utter abandon. When finally he released her mouth, she felt drained of all resistance.

But then he looked down at her and a cruel smile twisted the lips that had just left hers. “It seems that there is more than one kind of persuasion,” he said sardonically.

Aggie was wrenched suddenly out of her ecstasy into a world of harsh reality. She drew herself up to her full height. “Release me,” she said in broken tones. “You have had your revenge. That should be suff
i
cient.”

For a moment the anger in his eyes dissolved and she glimpsed again that look of pain. Then his eyes clouded over. It seemed that he was about to say something to her, something important, but a sudden knocking on the door caused him to drop his hands and abruptly back away. “Yes?” he barked.

The door opened to disclose a distraught Bates. “It’s the young lady, milord.”

The Earl frowned darkly. “What about her?”

“She’s gone, milord.” Bates made no attempt to hide his apprehension.

“Gone!” echoed Denby stupidly. “What do you mean - gone?”

Bates seemed about to wring his hands. “She came out of the library, milord. And she seemed quite angry. She swept up the stairs and came down again with the monkey. And then, milord,” he paused in obvious distress.

“Yes?”

The Earl’s tone was not encouraging, but Bates plunged on. “Then she went out.”

“Just like that - she went out,” bellowed the Earl. “And you didn’t stop her?”

Bates looked slightly affronted. “It was not my place to put hands on the young lady
,
milord.” He hesitated. “I sent Dunner after her, milord. He won’t let her come to harm. And Franklin went along, so he could come back and report where she went.”

Since his lordship seemed to have lapsed into a stunned silence
,
Aggie spoke. “You did well
,
Bates. Especially in such trying circumstances.”

The old butler sent her a grateful look. “Thank you, miss. I did the best I could.” His gaze returned to Denby
,
almost furtively.

His lordship seemed to gather his wits. “Yes, Bates. Well done. As soon as Franklin returns let me know.”

“Yes, milord.” Bates made his retreat.

Aggie turned her gaze on Denby. He was still frowning, his fine features distorted by his rage. “Well,” he said angrily, “what do I do now?”

Aggie considered. “You might send out and scour the streets,” she said, restraining herself from reminding him that all this could have been averted if he had not insisted on her staying with him. “Or you might sit here and wait for Franklin’s report.” She paused as a sudden thought struck her. “She might even come back herself. She could have just gone for a walk.”

It was obvious from the contortions of his handsome features that the Earl was f
i
ghting a battle with his anger. Finally he seemed to have conquered it enough to permit him to speak. “Do you really think that is possible?” He was unable to keep complete incredulity from his voice, but he was at least clearly sincere in his desire for her opinion.

Aggie felt herself suddenly very weary and sank into a chair. “I can’t really say. But it seems entirely possible. After all, where has she to go? She knows no one in the city. She has no funds. Perhaps after her anger fades she will realize that and return.” Wearily she leaned her head on her hand. Would they never get Cecilie well married so that she could escape this terrible round of frustration and pain?

The Earl spent some time in silence before he spoke again. “I hope to God you’re right. This city is full of the most wicked men. If she should fall into their hands
-”
He shuddered and sank into a chair.

“Don’t worry, milord.” Aggie found herself taking the role of comforter. “No one can hurt her with Dunner there.”

He shook his head. “I suppose not. Still, it’s hard work waiting.” He consulted his timepiece. “I’ll give her another hour, then I go to Bow Street.”

Aggie nodded. She was trying not to think of that, but to concentrate on the moment when Cecilie would be found. She must be found.

Some thirty minutes passed slowly by -so slowly that to Aggie they seemed like years. And then there was the sound of the door knocker. They looked at each other, but neither made a sound as they waited for whatever noises should reach them from the hall.

Finally Bates knocked discreetly.

“Come in,” said the Earl, his voice still gruff.

Bates entered beaming. “The young lady has returned, milord. I have prevailed upon her to wait in the hall.”

Denby nodded. “Send her in.”

Aggie sent him a quick glance. “Milord,” she began, but he cut her off with a look of utter outrage. Then Cecilie came in, wearing the peaceful smile of innocence.

“My, Aggie, are you and his lordship still talking?” She did not wait for a reply, and Aggie, at least, was clearly aware of the mischief in her eyes. “I took Dillydums for a walk. It’s the nicest kind of day out. I’m sorry I didn’t wear my bonnet. I do hope my nose won’t freckle, but I was rather in a blue funk and I wanted to escape before I did any damage to his lordship’s establishment.” She gave the Earl a quick glance, but did not pause for comment. “The weather was just beautiful and I walked out all my rage. In fact,” she said, smiling sweetly at the Earl, apparently oblivious to his f
i
ercely frowning brows and the angry set of his mouth, “the walk cleared my mind. I see the error of my ways. You were quite right
,
milord. The poor Marquess deserves another chance. So if you’ve nothing more to discuss, I’ll just go up to my room and rest a little. Walking does tire one so.” And still wearing that sweet smile of innocence, she cast them each a quizzical glance, turned, and walked cheerfully from the room.

The Earl took one step after her and opened his mouth. But he closed it again with a sudden snap and stood silent until the sound of her footsteps had retreated down the hall. Then he threw Aggie a look of utter disgust. “I shall be out for dinner,” he said, his voice betraying the struggle it caused him to speak evenly. “Pray God I shall not have to see either of you until night after next when we go to Drury Lane.”

And then, while Aggie still stood stunned, he stormed from the room, yelling for Bates as he went.

Aggie sighed heavily. Incredible as it seemed, Cecilie had won this round. But she could not continue to do so. And the brash way in which she had covered her infraction of the rules
...
The Earl would not take well to being gulled by a woman, especially one not yet full grown. With another sigh Aggie turned toward the door. She must go and talk to her ward, but what she would say was beyond imagining.

Chapter Eight

The next hours were difficult ones for Aggie. Part of her could not help rejoicing in the fact that a mere chit like Cecilie should have managed to thwart his lordship as she had, but another part of her could not help but sympathize with Denby
.
She, too, had had her moments of frustration and anger over Cecilie
’s
behavior. But eventually she had learned the best ways to manage the girl. It could not be expected, however, that Denby would take such a subtle approach. His lordship seemed to feel that he knew how to handle everything.

From time to time Cecilie would giggle and remark about the stupid look on his lordship’s face when she returned. To all this Aggie turned a deaf ear, merely keeping her attention on her needlework. Only once did she comment. “The Earl is not a man to be trifled with. You should not antagonize him deliberately.”

Cecilie’s eyes widened with that look of innocence she did so well. “But Aggie, I only spoke the truth. I was really hipped. You wouldn’t want me to throw things, would you?”

“Of course not. Such behavior is extremely unladylike.”

“Well then,” said Cecilie as though that settled it, “you must see that I had to go for a walk.”

Aggie did not see this. However, it seemed rather useless to say so. “You could at least have worn your bonnet and gloves.”

“Oh, Aggie, I was too hipped to think of things like that! You know
,
you should have seen the expression on Bates’s face. He knew he couldn’t stop me.” Her eyes gleamed at the memory. “I just sailed past him big as life.”

Aggie did not smile. “You will not make yourself popular with the servants by putting them in such delicate positions.”

“Oh pooh!” said Cecilie
,
tickling the monkey with a feather from the comforter and giggling at the antics this inspired in the little beast. “You are becoming stuffy. If the Earl yells at his servants because they can’t stop me from taking a walk, that’s not my fault. He’s just mean.” And she made a face. “One of these days I shall be married and then the Earl won’t be able to tell me what to do. And if he comes anywhere near me, I shall cut him dead. Papa taught me how.” And she stared through the imaginary Denby with an iciness that made Aggie smile.

“In order to be married you must f
i
nd a husband,” Aggie reminded her charge. “Are you quite sure the Marquess is unsuitable?” She asked the question very quietly, trying not to drive the girl further into her antagonism.

Cecilie sighed. “I know you are being patient with me, Aggie, but truly the man is dreadful bore. The only thing he can do well is dance.” She turned to Aggie with a mischievous smile. “And didn’t you tell me that marriage must be based on something more than the ability to dance well?”

“Of course I did,” replied Aggie. “But you well know I had in mind something a little more important than dancing - or riding.”

Cecilie’s smile broadened and a giggle bubbled from her throat. “You also told me it would be impossible to find out about chests.”

Aggie’s smile faded. The vision of
Denby’s
bare chest appeared far too often in her mind as it was.
“
Cecilie
!
I know that you think this whole matter quite amusing. But you must consider that marriage is a serious business. You are deciding on a partner for life.”

“That is precisely why I cannot be leg-shackled to a perfect block like the Marquess,” replied Cecilie. Then, seeing Aggie’s expression, she hurried on. “But I will receive him. And I’ll be polite. Surely that will satisfy his lordship.”

Aggie was not too sure of this, but she did not think it wise to say so. Let Cecilie make whatever conciliatory amends she could. In his present mood the Earl was not going to be easy to placate. She swallowed a sigh. How differently she had once planned her future. Back in those beautiful days she had envisioned a life of love and happiness with Denby beside her. Well, she told herself, perhaps she should consider herself lucky. Denby was not the man she had thought him. He was arrogant and tyrannical; witness his behavior with Cecilie
.