A Matter of Honor

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  Aggie swallowed, blinking back the tears. She knew that Cecilie did not mean to hurt her. “Yes dear, but that cannot be. What I meant for you to consider were things like Dillydums running away into the Dark Walks. Now the sign above a man in your marketplace might say that he loved animals. But we all know how easy it is for a man to puff himself falsely. This way you saw the Viscount in action. Just as you observed Lord Parrington’s horses, you had a chance to observe Lord Heatherton. You saw how the Viscount behaved with Dillydums and how much Dillydums liked him.”

  Cecilie nodded. “Yes, Aggie. That is very true.”

  “And of course, you also have a chance to see how he treats you. Though of necessity he is on his best behavior, it does give you some idea.”

  Cecilie smiled. “Oh yes. And the way he looks at me.” Her smile broadened. “So eagerly and so warmly. I like that.”

  Aggie nodded. She was seeing the Earl’s smile as he had once gazed tenderly upon her, once - before time and something else had separated them. She choked back a sob.

  “And the way he takes my elbow,” Cecilie continued, unaware of Aggie’s pain, lost as she was in her own pleasure. “And when he shawls me, the way his fingers feel on my neck.” She sat lost in thought for some moments and Aggie successfully banished her longing to weep. Cecilie looked up slyly. “I don’t suppose you could leave us alone for just a moment.”

  “Cecilie!”

  “But Aggie, when he kisses my hand, when I feel his warm breath on my fingers, I get all shivery inside.”

  Aggie forced herself to smile though she felt a pain deep inside, a pain like a twisted knife. Just so did the Earl make her shiver.

  “Please, Aggie? I want to feel what it’s like to have him kiss my lips.”

  “Cecilie! I cannot do such a thing. Whatever would the Earl say? I could not possibly do such a thing.”

  “Just for a little minute,” pleaded Cecilie, her wide eyes begging. “I know he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “I know that, too, dear,” replied Aggie. “But it would not be proper for me to allow such a thing.”

  “I don’t know why not,” said Cecilie. “Just for a little minute.”

  Aggie did not reply to this and finally Cecilie went back to her needlework. But after a few minutes she raised her head to ask, “Aggie, did your young man kiss you?”

  “Cecilie!” Aggie began, but the youngster interrupted her.

  “Aggie! I need to know these things. And I’ve no mama to ask.”

  Aggie recognized the truth of this and, much as the subject caused her pain, she decided to allow Cecilie to pursue it. “Yes, he did.”

  “And was it wonderful?” asked Cecilie eagerly. “Did it seem like stars shining and fireworks going off?”

  Aggie could not forbear smiling. “It was rather like that, dear. But I think it is different for different people. Not everyone sees fireworks, at least not all the time. Sometimes it’s very peaceful, like coming home.”

  “Oh.” Cecilie digested this news in silence for some moments. “Like belonging?”

  “Yes, dear,” Aggie replied. “Like belonging.” Resolutely she pushed from her mind the memories that wanted to come flooding back.

  “I truly think I am in love,” said Cecilie with a contented little sigh. “And it does not seem nearly as painful as it is in Shakespeare’s stories.”

  “Cecilie.” Aggie knew she was not going to be heard, but she could not let the girl go on like this. “You know how the Earl feels about Lord Heatherton.”

  Cecilie shrugged slim shoulders. “I don’t care. I let him drive away Lord Gale, who was really a very nice man who said the most beautiful things.” She sighed speculatively, a faraway look in her eyes. “But I shall not let him send Heatherton away. I shall run away first,” she added defiantly. “To that place you told me of, where the fortune hunters take young women.”

  “Cecilie -” Aggie began, but Bates appeared at the door at that moment to announce Lord Heatherton and Aggie could not say any more on the matter. She determined, however, that she must discuss the subject with the Countess. She must do something before matters got out of hand - if they had not already.

  And so after the Viscount left, and without the opportunity for Cecilie to sample his kisses, Aggie sought out Denby’s mother.

  The Countess greeted her with a sweet smile. “And how is Cecilie today?”

  “She is well,” said Aggie, not quite able to keep a note of worry out of her voice. “And as usual she is raving about the incomparable Lord Heatherton. Who, incidentally, just finished his daily visit.”

  “He is a nice boy,” said her ladyship complacently.

  Aggie thought perhaps she was dreaming. The whole thing seemed so strange. “But the Earl - he would never approve. And Cecilie is really taken.”

  Lady Denby smiled. “Sit down, Aggie. Let me tell you something.”

  A small voice inside Aggie told her she should run, but she could not disobey the Countess.

  “You must think my son is a strange fish,” Lady Denby said. “But he says he has his reasons for objecting to Heatherton. And really, considering that in holding out for the proper husband for Cecilie he is delaying his own plans, I feel he is to be respected.”

  “Delaying?” Aggie’s heart threatened to stop beating altogether.

  “Yes. He is particularly anxious to get Cecilie settled because, you see, he wants to marry himself.”

  Now Aggie was sure her heart had stopped momentarily. Denby - to marry?

  “He has fallen deeply in love with a beautiful and talented lady and he plans to marry her after Cecilie’s future is assured.”

  Aggie nodded. She must keep her emotions from overcoming her. She had rejected him and he had gone to Lady Alicia.

  “That’s one of the reasons I came to the city,” said the Countess. “To meet her and give him my approval.”

  Aggie nodded dumbly, wondering how Denby could hope his mother would approve of Lady Alicia. But then, the Countess was a real lady and she wanted her son to be happy.

  Aggie sat stiffly erect as the Countess continued. “So you see, all this delay is most disturbing to him. Especially since he feels that he can’t marry until Cecilie is settled.”

  A shiver trembled over Aggie. Thank God! To live in the same house with a triumphant Lady Alicia would be more than she could stand. Much more.

  “He does want to do his best for Cecilie,” Lady Denby was saying.

  “Then why does he behave so foolishly about Heatherton?” Aggie forced herself to push Denby to the back of her mind. She must concentrate on Cecilie.

  Lady Denby shrugged. “You will have to ask him yourself, Aggie. I cannot say. Heatherton seems a most suitable young man to me.”

  Aggie nodded. The more she thought about it the more she believed that Denby was making a mistake about his ward, but with this news causing her heart to thud madly in her throat she did not think she dared face him.

  “Aggie, Aggie!”

  She realized that Lady Denby had already spoken her name several times. “Yes, milady?”

  “You are looking rather pale. Perhaps you have taken a chill. Why don’t you go lie down for a while?”

  * * * *

  Aggie slipped off her shoes and stretched out on the bed. To think of Denby actually marrying Lady Alicia seemed so strange. She simply could not sort all of it out, she thought, the tears rising to her eyes. The one clear thing seemed that whatever Denby’s feelings had once been, he was now in love with another woman.

  The tears overflowed then and she allowed them to course down her cheeks unheeded. She must see that Cecilie was soon married, even though it meant Denby’s marriage to Lady Alicia. She must get out of this house and away from him. Once she opened her school there should be little chance of running into him again. She was not likely to be visiting in any of the ton’s usual haunts. And it seemed the only way to cure this terrible ache in her heart, or at least to make it somewhat bearable, was
to get away from him. If she did not have to see him, she might in time manage to forget the feel of his arms and the wild warm ecstasy of his kisses. Perhaps eventually she could achieve some degree of contentment. That was all she could hope for now. A reasonably contented life as a spinster schoolmarm.

  Finally sleep overcame her, but it was not a restful sleep, haunted as it was by dreams of Denby. It was several hours later when a brisk tapping on her door aroused her. It took a moment for her to regain her senses. Then she called, “Yes? Who is it?”

  The door opened. “It’s me, miss,” said Millie. “Bates sent me up to get you. His lordship is just in and it seems he wants to have a word with you. In the library.”

  Aggie sat up rather groggily. “Please tell his lordship I have been lying down. I will be there shortly.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  As the door closed behind the maid, Aggie forced herself from the bed. She did not want to see Denby. She would have given a great deal at that moment to be able to run away, but no such opportunity was available to her.

  She splashed cold water on her face and patted down a few stray wisps of hair. Then, before her fear could immobilize her, she made herself go downstairs. Nothing would be gained by avoiding this moment. She knew that and yet...

  Her knees were trembling long before she reached the library door and she did not pause before she entered. She got halfway across the room before her legs threatened to fail her. “Milord, you asked for me?” His back was to her and she noted absently that he was wearing a new coat, perfectly tailored. And then he turned to her and she had to fight the waves of longing that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Yes.” His tone was formal, his eyes guarded. “My mother seemed to feel that you wished to discuss Cecilie.” His eyes watched her closely.

  “I-I do.”

  He gestured toward a chair and she sank into it gratefully. He pulled up another and straddled it. “Well?”

  “I - I do not understand your attitude toward Viscount Heatherton,” she began. “He seems to me to be very suitable. And Cecilie is quite taken with him. Why do you dislike him so much?”

  “I have my reasons,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving her face.

  She waited for him to go on, but he remained silent. “You must understand, milord,” she said then. “This is much more serious than Lord Gale. The Viscount has a very real hold on Cecilie’s affections.”

  “So my mother informs me,” he replied calmly.

  “But if you find him unsuitable, you should not allow Cecilie to see him,” Aggie cried.

  The Earl frowned. “I have told you. Heatherton’s mama and mine are bosom-bows. I cannot forbid him the house.”

  “But your duty to Cecilie?”

  “I have informed Cecilie as to my feelings on the matter,” said his lordship dryly.

  Aggie began to feel that everyone was going mad. “I told you that your stubbornness would drive her into a man’s arms.”

  “So you did,” he agreed.

  Suddenly Aggie wanted to scream. For the moment she forget her feelings about herself. “Why must you be so - so -”

  “Stupid?” he volunteered dryly.

  “Yes!” Her temper was flaring now and she did not care. “You are ruining her life. Gretna Green is not unknown to her.” She glared at him. “If you deny Heatherton’s suit, she may well elect to run off with him.”

  “And you will assist in her packing?” he inquired, still in that strangely formal tone.

  “Of course not!” she blazed. “I could not, in good conscience, do such a thing. But you must understand. Cecilie is wild about this man. And you have advanced no legitimate reasons against him.”

  “I need not do so,” he said calmly. “I simply cannot abide him.”

  “But -” Aggie felt that they were talking in circles. There was something here she did not comprehend.

  The Earl consulted his timepiece. “I’m sorry. Miss Trimble, but my time is limited. I must dress for dinner now. A pressing engagement. I’m sure you understand.”

  Aggie forced herself to nod. She was suddenly unable to speak, for the knowledge came to her quite clearly that the Earl’s pressing engagement was with Lady Alicia and the thought filled her with despair.

  Dumbly she rose and made her way toward the door. “Do not worry about Cecilie, Aggie. I am confident we will get her well settled.” There was something strange about the tone of his voice, but her eyes were full of tears and she dared not turn to look at him for fear they would betray her.

  Blindly she turned down the corridor toward the courtyard. She must have a chance to think. There was something quite extraordinary in Denby’s behavior. It was certainly clear that he remembered her words concerning how opposition affected Cecilie. Quite clear that he knew that his opposition would drive her toward a man rather than away from him. And still he behaved as he did, by his actions causing her to be even more enamored of young Heatherton.

  Aggie stopped dead in her tracks. Was that his intent? Was he taking the advice she had given him? But if he were - Then he expected Cecilie to elope. Aggie shook her throbbing head. If he had such a plan, why hadn’t he told her about it?

  She sank down on the stone bench among the roses, absently inhaling their rich fragrance. Had Denby and his mother concocted this plot? With Heatherton’s connivance? All the facts seemed to indicate so: the Earl’s strange, almost unreal, stiffness with Heatherton; Lady Denby’s encouragement of Cecilie’s affections; the Earl’s opposition which yet left the way clear for the Viscount; and even, Aggie realized suddenly, that first meeting at Vauxhall Gardens, which she could now see had almost certainly been arranged. They wanted Cecilie to elope! That must be it; it explained so much.

  But why hadn’t they enlisted her help? She could not tell. At any rate, she told herself, it seemed clear to her now. She must think about what to do. Absently she picked a pink rose and held it to her nostrils. As she inhaled its sweet fragrance, a terrible sadness stole over her. Cecilie’s love for Heatherton was sweet and innocent, as her love for Denby had been.

  Sitting there in the sunshine, Aggie knew that Cecilie was right in her devotion to Heatherton. In the same situation, if Denby had asked her, she would have run off with him. And then the tears escaped the control Aggie had imposed on them and rolled down her cheeks, falling unheeded upon the rose. She had lost her chance at happiness, but Cecilie should not. If it was Denby’s plan that the two elope, she would make the way clear for them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  And so the next day when Heatherton came to call, Aggie had made her decision. The Viscount gave her his usual cheerful greeting and sat down to admire Cecilie’s needlepoint. “I am only just learning to do it,” said Cecilie truthfully. “Aggie’s is much better.”

  “You will learn,” said the Viscount with a smile. “It’s the wanting to learn that counts.”

  “Yes, milord,” said Cecilie with a smile of pleasure. “I want to learn everything I need to know to make you a perfect wife.”

  Heatherton reached out to take her hand in his. “None of us is perfect, my dear. I love you as you are.”

  Aggie attended diligently to her needlework, pretending that she heard nothing of what they were saying.

  “I must speak to Denby about you,” Heatherton said.

  Cecilie sighed. “Aggie says it will do no good. He says he cannot abide you. How can that be?” she asked in genuine bewilderment. “You are the most wonderful man I have ever seen.”

  The Viscount chuckled. “Cecilie, my dear. you are love-bitten.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied with a little laugh. Then her tone sobered. “But I am afraid of Denby. He is so - so hard.”

  Heatherton’s voice dropped. “I told you. Don’t worry about him. I know what to do.”

  It was at this point that Aggie yelled “ouch!” causing both the young people to glance up in surprise. “I’m afraid I have stabbed my finger rather badly.”


  “Oh, Aggie, how dreadful! Do let me see.”

  Aggie shook her head. “No, no, dear. You stay here with your guest. I will just go out and ask Millie for a little piece of cloth to wrap it in. I should not like to stain my needlepoint.”

  “Oh!” Cecilie seemed suddenly to have realized something. “Yes, Aggie. That does seem the best thing to do.”

  So Aggie, her heart pounding, left Cecilie with her visitor. She was sure she was no more than a few paces down the hall before Cecilie was receiving her first kiss. Aggie found that her own hands were trembling. Was she doing the right thing leaving the two of them alone? She really felt she could trust Cecilie with Heatherton. But what if she could not? The thought seemed to add wings to her feet as she sped toward the kitchen. Without something on her finger she could not go back, especially as there was no sign of a needle hole anywhere in it.

  It was only a few minutes later that she returned to the drawing room. Cecilie and Lord Heatherton still sat as she had left them, but a faint flush on Cecilie’s cheeks and an extra brightness to her eyes told Aggie that her little stratagem had been successful. Cecilie no longer had to speculate as to the nature of her suitor’s kisses; she had experienced at least one.

  “Is your finger all right?” asked Cecilie as Aggie reentered the room.

  Aggie nodded. “Yes.” She lifted it to show them. “Millie helped me find a strip of cloth. And it will soon heal.”

  With these amenities observed, Aggie returned to her needlework and Cecilie and Heatherton to their conversation. The Viscount never overstayed himself and so in due course he rose to go, bowing low over Aggie’s hand and saying gravely, “I hope your finger will soon heal.”

  And Aggie replied with equal gravity, “I’m sure it will not take long.”

  When Cecilie returned from walking the Viscount to the door, she was wearing a radiant smile. “I’m very sorry about your finger, Aggie.”

  Aggie nodded. “It was nothing, dear. Such things happen.”

  “Yes, I suppose they do,” agreed Cecilie, reaching for her needlework. She stitched in silence for some moments. Then she looked up with the merest of smiles. “Aggie?”