A Matter of Honor (14 page)

“I do not recall any of Shakespeare’s stories like that
,
” Cecilie said.

Aggie was momentarily grateful that they had not read
The Taming of the Shre
w
.
They were approaching Drury Lane by this time and so the Earl did not need to answer.

Cecilie, eager to see the crowds, had to be physically restrained from hanging out the window. “But Aggie,” she said, “just look at all the people! And all dressed in their best. Just look at them! Gems are shining everywhere.”

“Yes, Cecilie, I know. It is always like this,” Aggie replied. “Remember what I told you. People go to the theater to see and be

seen.”

The smile on Cecilie’s face told her companion that she was also remembering their conversation about having a place to go to choose a husband, but thankfully Cecilie
did not mention that.

“Some people,” added his lordship dryly, “still go to the theater for the purpose of seeing the play. But they are a definite minority and need not be considered.”

“I suppose not,” agreed Cecilie, completely missing the irony of his statement. “Still, I shall rather enjoy seeing what I have read being acted out.”

The coachman had f
i
nally worked his way close to the porticoes. The Earl preceded them out and turned to give them assistance in descending. “Stay close to me,” he said as Cecilie reached the ground.

Moments later Aggie, too, had descended and he led them through the crowds into the rotunda. Cecilie’s eyes grew wide as she surveyed the two stories, the circular gallery that separated them, and the rich cupola with the chandelier dangling from it. Aggie smiled. Certainly the theater was a lovely sight, da
z
zling with its gilt and rich furnishings. She saw Cecilie’s glance go from the eight columns of the peristyle done in rich Siena marble
,
which supported the highly decorated entablature, to the right and left doorways flanked by Ionic columns of dark-colored porphyry.

The Earl’s box was one of the best in the theater, giving an excellent view of the stage. It also gave an excellent view of its occupants to the other patrons of the theater, but Aggie had no time to think of that. She turned to share Cecilie’s exclamations of wonder and surprise at the great size of the gilt-encrusted theater. This was made somewhat awkward by the fact that the Earl had put himself between the two women. This made him far closer than Aggie liked, but there was little she could do about it. If the Earl wanted to sit between them, he would. And if it made her uncomfortable to lean across him - as it most assuredly did - then she would simply have to bear it.

“Look! Look! Over there!” cried Cecilie
.
“See the fat lady with the tiara. And there, I see Lady Jersey.”

Aggie was glad to see that the Jersey was deep in conversation and did not seem to notice Denby
.
But then, a box just across the way was entered by several well-clad gentlemen, and among them, resplendent in emerald green silk and blazing with diamonds, came Lady Alicia Temple. The neck of her gown was cut so low that Aggie almost gasped when she saw it. It did not, however, seem to disturb the gentlemen flocking round, some of whom Aggie recognized as the scions of England’s best families. There was no other woman in the box. Was one of the men Lady Temple’s husband?

Cecilie, too, had noticed the commotion. “Look
,
Aggie,” she said, “there is Lady Alicia.”

Aggie nodded, f
i
nding the conversation rather trying, especially as the lady chose that moment to wave gaily and blow Denby a kiss.

Cecilie turned to him with curious eyes. “Which of the gentlemen is Lady Alicia’s
husband?”

The Earl looked a trifle startled. “The lady has no husband,” he replied.

Cecilie’s delicate eyebrow rose. “No husband, milord? Then why has she no companion?”

Denby began to look uncomfortable and Aggie realized that her conception of Lady Alicia’s reputation had been rather accurate.

“The lady is a widow,” the Earl explained in discomfort. “She needs no companion.”

“And her guardian?” asked Cecilie in a tone that made Aggie somewhat edgy.

“She has no guardian.” Now Denby was def
i
nitely ill at ease. “Her husband doted on her, the old fool. And he left all her substance in her hands.”

“Really?” The look on Cecilie’s face increased Aggie’s nervousness. The girl seemed lost in thought for some minutes. Then she turned to the Earl. “I have decided - I want to be a widow.”

Denby
,
whose mind was not yet accustomed to the devious twistings of Cecilie’s
thought, started as though pricked by a pin. “A widow?”

“Yes,” declared Cecilie
.
“Then I can manage my own affairs without interference from a husband.”

The Earl coughed suddenly, almost as though hiding a laugh. “There is a slight problem here. One must be a wife before one becomes a widow.”

“Can’t you find me a very old husband?” Cecilie asked innocently.

“Cecilie!” Aggie cried. “How can you? You must live with this man.”

Cecilie looked surprised. “But only for a while, Aggie. Then I should have everything my way.”

Aggie shook her head, but Denby burst into laughter. “Well, Cecilie, you are honest at least. Which many women are not.”

Aggie thought this
,
too, was directed at her, but, as he went right on, perhaps it was not.

“You may just put the idea from your mind,” his lordship said to Cecilie f
i
rmly. “You need a husband to keep you from utter disaster and as your guardian I should never consent to a marriage contract that would put you in the perilous position of managing your own funds, even as a widow.”

Cecilie began to pout at this, but Aggie could not help but agree, though silently, with Denby
.
Cecilie, left to run her own affairs, would go broke in a fortnight!

“Besides,” said the Earl, “you may f
i
nd it nice to have a husband. And no doubt you will want children. It is far better for your sons to have a father to guide them. So you should have a younger man.”

“I suppose so,” agreed Cecilie, her eyes slipping down to the Earl’s white waistcoat. For once Aggie was grateful for Cecilie’s
scatterbrained ways. At least, this thing about chests could be used to keep her from becoming an old man’s toy.

The curtain rose then and Aggie and Denby were spared any more discussion on the subject. By the time intermission came, Cecilie had quite forgotten the matter as she launched into an enthusiastic discussion of the play. “What a wicked, wicked man Iago
is.” She said the words softly, almost as if she feared that someone might overhear her.

“
Kean plays him very villainously
,”
agreed his lordship. He turned to Aggie. “I find that I have several matters to discuss with friends. I trust that you and Cecilie can manage till I return?”

Cecilie scarcely heard him, engrossed as she was with the great crowd below, but Aggie nodded. “Yes, milord.”

He rose and bowed, then made his way out of the box, to seek out Lady Alicia
,
no doubt, thought Aggie bitterly. Then she was called back to the present by Cecilie’s squeal as some new sight presented itself to her fascinated eyes.

Some few minutes passed, the two of them trying to recognize faces they knew. Suddenly from behind them came a voice. “Such lovely ladies.”

Aggie swung around, ready to oust the intruder, but Cecilie had already leaped to her feet. “Lord Parrington
!
How good to see you again. Do come in and take a chair. Perhaps you can help us put names to all these faces.”

“Anything to please you, lovely lady,” said Parrington, and Aggie decided immediately that she did not like the man. There was something about him that made her uneasy, though she could not put a f
i
nger on it. He seemed well enough dressed and Cecilie evidently recalled him from the come out, but Aggie simply did not like him. It was nothing physically visible. He was an attractive enough man, of medium height with fair hair and dark eyes. There was nothing suspicious about his manner either. It was all open blunt honesty, all “hail-fellow-well-met.” And then the thought hit Aggie with a terrifying jolt. Just so did Mr. Kean play the terrible Iago
!

As the two continued to discuss the play and the crowd, Aggie watched in silence. There was nothing she could do to rid them of the man; obviously Cecilie was enjoying his company. If only the Earl would return. He would know what to do. She looked out over the theater, searching for him. Perhaps she could attract his attention.

Almost of their own volition her eyes came to rest on the box that held Lady Alicia
.
And there he was, sitting beside her in a place obviously vacated precisely for him. Lady Alicia was leaning attentively toward him, leaning far too much, thought Aggie angrily, considering the neckline of her gown. She stared at them fixedly, hoping to get his attention to the situation that now existed in his box. But the Earl seemed oblivious of her concentrated looks. Lady Temple elicited all his attention.

Aggie found her hands tightening into fists. Why wasn’t the man here where he belonged instead of dangling after that widow? In pained silence she watched Cecilie giggle and flirt with Parrington
.
For one dreadful moment she thought the girl might even ask him about his chest, but evidently she had decided that that and the question of children could wait for a later day, perhaps after she had seen him ride and explored the question of animals.

The latter seemed already decided in Parrington’s favor, for the scattered words and phrases that reached Aggie’s ears often had to do with the antics
of
Dillydums
.
And, since Parrington sat enthralled through the whole recital, Aggie could only conclude that he very much liked animals or he was a consummate actor.

Finally, to her intense relief, the man rose and made his good-byes. Aggie had a def
i
nite feeling that he wanted to leave before the Earl returned, but again it was only a feeling.

Lord Parrington had only been gone a few seconds when the door opened to admit the Earl. The shadows in the back of the box prevented her from seeing his face clearly, but as soon as he spoke Aggie knew their pleasant evening was at an end. “Was that Parrington leaving here?” he asked.

He attempted to keep his tone even and Cecilie was deceived into answering. “Oh yes, milord. He’s the most amusing man. An excellent dancer. And a great lover of animals.”

“Indeed!” replied his lordship and this time Cecilie
,
too, caught his mood. “His dancing I can have no quarrel with, but his love for animals clearly does not extend to his horses.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Cecilie’s pink lips made a pout.

“I mean that Parrington’s beasts are ill-treated. And anyone can see it.”

“Oh dear!” cried Cecilie. “And he seemed an excellent choice.”

“That’s no matter,” replied the Earl flatly. “I have already refused him.”

“Already!” By now Cecilie was quite agitated.

“Yes,” replied the Earl grimly. “He was one of those I told you about - a fortune hunter.”

Cecilie said no more and the Earl seemed satisfied, but Aggie was not. Cecilie never gave up this easily. And just because the Earl said Parrington ill-treated his animals that did not mean that Cecilie would believe him. Aggie did, however, and she wondered curiously if the evil in men gave off some subtle kind of vibrations to those around them. Was it the bad treatment of his animals that Aggie had sensed or was it some future evil centering around Cecilie
?
She found herself very grateful that the Earl had refused Parrington’s offer. But a small niggling fear would not be silenced.

Obviously the Earl’s refusal had not made Parrington give up. He was trying to get to Cecilie in spite of it. And, knowing Denby’s
determination, Aggie saw the only recourse left to Parrington if he wanted to marry Cecilie - as he must see it too - Gretna
Green! Ordinarily, this would not be too frightening. Parrington was forbidden the house and she was usually on hand when Cecilie went out. But given her charge’s fits of anger and decisions to rush out and walk them off... Aggie decided to speak privately to Bates. He might not be able to stop Cecilie from leaving the house, but he could at least send footmen with her - and with private instructions to prevent her from entering any carriages.

Considerably relieved by this decision, she relaxed a little and turned her attention back to the play. She would very much like to see Mr. Kean as Othello, she thought. The man had a great deal of talent.

Through the remainder of the play and even the afterpiece the Earl and Cecilie both remained silent. It was not an uncomfortable silence. Cecilie appeared to have accepted his lordship’s evaluation of Parrington and the Earl seemed content that the matter was closed. Aggie, however, was not at all sure. Cecilie
’s
silence need indicate only thought, not compliance. She had seen such behavior before. Indeed
,
she had been the chief victim of it. And she resolved to be especially on guard.

The ride home was given over to idle chatter about clothes and the play and passed pleasantly enough. The Earl left them at the foot of the stairs. “Good night, Cecilie. Good night
,
Miss Trimble.” His eyes seemed to look overlong into her and Aggie felt her heart contracting. Then his gaze slid over the gown, almost as though he were trying to retain a picture of it in his memory - or compare it with one already there. “I am glad the gown pleased you,” he said softly. “It pleased me. Very much.”

Then, before she could do more than murmur a thank you, he was gone, disappearing into the library with Bates at his heels. With a sigh Aggie turned and followed Cecilie up the stairs to their beds. She would think about his words later. Tonight she must sleep.

Chapter Ten