An Affair of Honor

by Amanda Scott

  “The devil I have! I’ve scarcely exchanged three words with Sir Henry Sinclair. Doing it too brown, Nell.”

  She laughed. “No such thing, sir. It’s the truth. Mama has a very strong sense of economy, though I’ve never understood how she came by it unless it was through fear that my father would outrun his fortune and thus prove to her relations that she had married beneath her station. But, whatever the reason, she exerts enough of an influence over Sir Henry that Kit’s allowance has been extremely small. And since Sir Henry thought him a mere schoolboy and disapproved of his friends into the bargain, nothing Kit could say seemed to make any impression at all.”

  “What of you? Did you say nothing?”

  “Oh, I exerted myself to change Mama’s views, but it was to little avail. And Sir Henry merely pats me on the head and tells me it is not expected that a mere female should understand the workings of the financial world.” Her fingers curled as she said these last words, and Huntley grinned at her.

  “Poor Nell.”

  “Well, no one would like being spoken to in such a way. But, of course, once he realized that you had taken Kit under your wing, he saw immediately that Kit’s allowance must be increased. And his generosity was such that Kit is practically in alt.”

  Huntley frowned and turned a searching look upon her. “You must find it a trifle frustrating that after all your efforts on his behalf, I should succeed without the merest effort and without, for that matter, even knowing I’d done anything out of the way,” he said sympathetically.

  Nell shook her head, smiling at him. “Oh, no. How could I be so selfish? I’m truly grateful to you, sir. I’d nearly come to my wits’ end and was beginning to fear that, out of pure exasperation, Kit might work some mischief or other. Especially in view of all the attention being lavished on Rory once she arrived.” She paused, gazing down at her hands, then gave him a straight look. “I’m afraid I even feared he might have encouraged her to drink too much that day in hopes that she might be sent home in disgrace.”

  “Well, you can put that maggot straight out of your head,” Huntley said. “I’m certain such a thought never entered his head. Aurora behaved badly, and though I think he ought to have stopped her, I do understand that he, at least, believed himself unequal to the task. Is that young fop with his arm draped over the back of her chair her latest conquest, by the bye?”

  Nell glanced over to the other group, noting the elegantly dressed, if unmannerly, young gentleman to whom Huntley referred.

  “He is only one of many, sir. I doubt she is very intimate with any of them.”

  “I should hope not.”

  “No, indeed,” Nell replied with an innocent look. “You’ve much more to fear from Jeremy.”

  “And who, pray tell, is Jeremy?” The heavy brows quirked, but she knew he had taken her measure.

  “Why, our footman, sir. He and Rory are thick as thieves.”

  “Cut line, Nell. I know Aurora well enough to be certain I need have no qualms about a mere footman.”

  She chuckled. “Perhaps not. But they are firm friends, nonetheless, on account of Ulysses.” He looked puzzled, so she explained patiently that Ulysses was Rory’s kitten. “The one you allowed her to bring home in your carriage from the esplanade that day, sir. You were afraid of fleas,” she reminded him. He nodded, calmly recommending that she get on with her tale. She dimpled at his stern tone but obeyed him willingly enough. “It seems that the care and feeding of Ulysses have pretty much fallen to Jeremy’s lot. And he is so besotted over Rory that he does her slightest bidding without question. Why, I do believe that if she was to command that he sleep with Ulysses, Jeremy would even do that. I have discovered them more than once head to head in conference over Ulysses’ needs, and I daresay my incorrigible niece has confided more to him than she has any business to confide to any servant.”

  Huntley agreed that she was very likely right, but Nell could detect not the slightest degree of annoyance in his tone. They conversed amicably for some moments more before he took leave of her and moved to speak briefly to the two ladies on the sofa. His farewells seemed to provide a signal of sorts to the other gentlemen, for they followed nearly upon his heels, taking Kit with them and leaving the three ladies alone at last.

  Lady Agnes announced that she for one was ready to lie down upon her bed. “All that conversation has given me the headache,” she declared. “I should have known better than to exert myself.”

  “Poor Mama,” Nell said, twinkling at her. “Shall I ring for Mathilde to bring you a dose of hartshorn and water?”

  “I shall go up,” replied her ladyship with dignity. “You were very cozy with Huntley, my dear. I hope he wasn’t put out by all the young men he found here. We could scarcely forbid them the door, when I know most of their mamas!”

  “Don’t distress yourself, ma’am. Huntley and I discussed Kit and Rory. He was not at all put out, I promise you.”

  Lady Agnes accepted her at her word and went upstairs to tend her headache, but Rory eyed her uneasily and, the moment the doors had shut behind her grandmother, demanded to know if Nell had spoken the truth about Huntley’s not having been annoyed.

  “For I cannot think why else you should discuss me, though I have told him I’ll not stand for his interference in my life!”

  “Rory, only listen to yourself,” Nell pleaded. “To speak in such a way of a man who has been more than kind to you is most unbecoming.”

  “Well, I don’t care. I can’t think why he came to Brighton after promising I should enjoy myself. He is always hovering about, watching me, and bellowing when my activities displease him.”

  “Since we have scarcely seen him in three days, I don’t know why you would say such a thing,” Nell said. “Come now. Admit you are being unfair.”

  But the most she could get by way of a response was a sulky look and a shrug of one pretty shoulder, so Nell left her niece to her own devices and went upstairs to be sure Lady Agnes was not really unwell. Since she found her lying down upon her bed with a down comforter pulled up to her chin and a cold cloth laid over her brow, one might have expected a dutiful daughter to feel some anxiety. However, Nell was inured to such scenes and did not so much as turn a hair at the sight of the haughty Mathilde lighting pastilles on her ladyship’s dressing table.

  “I see you are in good hands, Mama. Is there anything you wish me to do for you before I leave? I mean to write a letter to Clarissa this afternoon.”

  “No, no, my dear,” her ladyship replied weakly. “Mathilde will see to everything. I daresay I shall be well again in a trice, so say nothing to worry Clarissa, I beg you.”

  “Of course not, ma’am.”

  Nell let herself out and went to her own sitting room, where she set out paper, ink, quills, and her favorite pen knife. These preparations completed, she sat down at her writing table and stared at a blank piece of paper for some time before she stirred herself to write the greeting. Then, she sat and thought. Her intention had been to assure her sister that all was going well and that her beloved daughter was enjoying her Season in Brighton. But Nell wasn’t by any means certain that either statement was a true one.

  In the first place, she was more convinced every day that a marriage between her niece and Lord Huntley would be a mistake. More than that, it would be a disaster. And in the second place, she wasn’t at all persuaded that Rory was enjoying herself, having in fact suspected for several days that the child was bored and frustrated. Since the boredom could not possibly be the result of a lack of activity, Nell had to search for another reason, and since Rory’s attitude reminded her much of Kit’s when he had felt confined by his lack of funds and by the seeming lack of understanding that surrounded him, Nell thought it entirely possible that Rory felt confined in Brighton.

  Taking advantage of their growing friendship, she had attempted on more than one occasion to discuss her thoughts with Huntley, but she felt she had made little headway. Although he could be so underst
anding of her own feelings, and seemed to have a nearly magical knack for dealing with her brother, his advice with regard to Rory was generally, in Nell’s opinion, hasty or thoughtless, and sometimes even downright pig-headed. His inclination seemed to be to blame everything on Rory’s youth and to assume that she would outgrow any behavior of which he disapproved. Nell’s notion that Rory felt confined, he termed ludicrous.

  But it was not. Nell knew that her niece was used to enjoying an amount of freedom at home that simply wasn’t possible in Brighton. Even so benevolent a rule as Nell herself imposed was too restrictive for Rory’s tastes. Huntley said merely that she had been spoiled. Nell agreed but could not see that it mattered much one way or the other, since she could scarcely make much of an imprint in a few weeks when the damage had been done over a period of so many years. And in the meantime, and much more to the point as far as she was concerned, her niece was unhappy. And Nell could not imagine that marriage to Huntley, however admirable he was, would improve that situation.

  Finally, after several false starts, she pushed the letter paper and quill aside and decided to see if her niece would enjoy going for a drive or perhaps even for a ride. Finding that Rory was no longer in the drawing room, Nell went back upstairs. She was not in her bedchamber, either, but Sadie was straightening up the room, and the gown that Rory had worn earlier was spread out upon the bed.

  “Where is your mistress, Sadie?”

  The maid’s rosy countenance took on a martyred expression. “I’m sure I couldn’t say, miss.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, if you please,” Nell replied firmly. “Her ladyship must have given some indication of her intention when she changed her gown. What dress did she wear?”

  Sadie looked mulish. “My lady said I was not to tell.”

  “Sadie,” Nell warned, “listen carefully to what I say, because I shall only say it the one time. I should be very sad to have to turn you off, but if you continue with this unfortunate attitude, I shall do so. And do not think it is beyond my power, for I assure you it is not. Lord Crossways would not like to hear that you abetted his daughter in misbehavior, perchance even into danger. Your mistress still has little knowledge of the sort of thing that might happen to her here, and if she has not got a proper escort, wherever she is, something dreadful could happen.”

  “She is in no danger,” Sadie muttered sullenly.

  “Be that as it may, you have no way of knowing. And the fact remains that you will either tell me this minute where she has gone, or I shall send you straight back to Crossways to explain the matter to his lordship.”

  Sadie paled. “Don’t do that, miss. She didn’t say where she was going. On my honor. But she did wear her habit, and she sent word to Joe at the stables to bring her mare around.”

  Nell had feared something of the sort since she had first seen the morning gown on the bed, but she wasted no time telling Sadie what she thought of a maid who would assist her mistress in such an escapade. There was no time to be lost. Hurrying to her own bedchamber, she tugged the bell, and began changing into her riding habit as quickly as she could manage it. When Mary came to see what was wanted, Nell refused any assistance and sent her instead to order her horse brought ’round.

  “And just where might you be going, Miss Nell?” asked that worthy henchwoman placidly.

  “The Lady Aurora has taken her horse out, Mary, and I fear she may have ridden up to the Downs,” Nell replied quickly, knowing better than to try to snub Mary.

  “That wicked baggage,” returned the maidservant, not mincing matters. “But you’ll not be going after her yourself, Miss Nell.”

  “Of course I shall,” Nell snapped. “She cannot be left to her own devices, Mary. She doesn’t realize what might happen up there.”

  “But you do, miss, and the proper person to go chasing after that one is his lordship. You should sit yourself down and write a proper note to him. That’s what.”

  “Oh, Mary, by the time we track his lordship down, anything might happen to Rory! He could be anywhere in Brighton, and if he is at the Pavilion, I’m not by any means certain we could get a message to him. There is no time, however, so please do as you are bid. Please, Mary.” The last was said coaxingly, and although Mary grumbled, she obeyed, and she must have sent a linkboy fairly flying, for when Nell came downstairs ten minutes later, Pavingham informed her that her groom was waiting outside.

  She scarcely waited for Peter’s assistance and ignored his protests entirely when she informed him that they were headed for the Downs. It occurred to her that, once again, she had forgotten to tell him to arm himself, but she trusted to her own resources if they should encounter trouble. Half an hour later, she had reached the place where she and Rory had ridden before, but she could see no sign of the girl.

  “Can you see fresh tracks anywhere, Peter?”

  “Lord, Miss Nell, there be fresh tracks everywhere. This be a popular place to ride ’n all.” He scratched his head, looking perplexed. “What be we alookin’ fer, Miss Nell?”

  “The Lady Aurora’s horse, Peter. Could you tell his hoofprints from any other horse?” But Peter shook his head. “Very well, then, we must simply ride until we find her,” Nell said firmly, turning her mount’s head toward Brighton Camp. “I daresay that if we continue in this direction, we shall come up with her before long.”

  “But, Miss Nell, we be headed—”

  “I know, Peter, but it cannot be helped. We simply must find her ladyship.”

  Nell spurred her horse, cutting off further protest. It was still several miles to the camp, and she hoped against hope that they would find Rory before reaching it. If they did not, she would have to send Peter to look for Major Talcott. Certainly, she could not go in search of him herself. And she hoped Peter would not have to go either, because she would not enjoy waiting alone for his return. Her courage nearly failed her altogether at the thought that such a thing might be necessary, but she bolstered it again by indulging in a silent rehearsal of all the things she would say to her niece when they found her.

  XIII

  AN HOUR’S SEARCH REVEALED no sign of Rory on any of the trails they had taken before, so with reluctance Nell turned onto a path that led downhill toward a thick wood. She knew the military encampment was located just the other side of the wood, and involuntarily, halfway down the hillside, she slowed her horse, casting a hesitant glance at Peter. He stared back at her unencouragingly. With a small grimace she looked away, determined to find her niece. But even as she moved to use her spur, a shout from behind gave her a pause, and glancing over her shoulder, Nell saw a horseman pounding down the hill at almost reckless speed. Recognizing him at once, she gave a sigh of relief and drew rein.

  “He looks like the very devil, he does,” Peter observed dispassionately, drawing in beside her.

  Once Huntley realized they had seen him, he slowed the great stallion to a safer pace. Nell, watching him, hoped he had only been concentrating on the terrain, and that that accounted for the deep furrow where his heavy brows came together, but when he glanced up again, she knew Peter was right. Her sense of relief faded quickly, replaced by an unfamiliar shiver of fear. She met his angry gaze steadily, however, when he pulled up near them. He did not speak to her, but turned to Peter.

  “Leave us. I shall see your mistress safely home.”

  “Aye, m’lord.” Without so much as a look at Nell, Peter turned away, leaving her feeling slightly affronted. He was her servant, after all, and should not be so quick to obey another.

  “My lord, you cannot simply send him off. What would—”

  “What would people think, Nell? Is that what you were about to ask me?” His tone was such that she was glad he didn’t wait for a reply. “Do you dare to ask such a thing after careering off on a wild goose chase with only a groom for escort?”

  “A wild goose chase?” Her eyes lit, and she forgot his anger for the moment. “Then she is safe? Where was she?”

  He
grimaced. “She was riding on the beach not half a mile from the men’s bathing area, skirts flying, hair streaming out behind her like a damned gypsy.”

  “Merciful heavens!” Nell gasped. “Did anyone see her?”

  “Only half a dozen or so of the men who accompanied his highness to the beach this afternoon,” he replied with a touch of sarcasm. “That’s all. Thankfully, I doubt if anyone recognized her except for myself. I had my curricle, so I simply left the bathing party and drove along the Marine Parade until I spotted her idiot groom waiting near the dunes by the new royal crescent. I took his mount and went to fetch her.”

  His words made it all seem very matter-of-fact, but Nell had an instant vision of what was no doubt a pounding chase. And there was equally little doubt as to what Rory’s reaction must have been when he caught her. On the other hand, if there had been a quarrel, it was no wonder he was in such a flaming temper now. Nell gazed at him searchingly. His lips were drawn together in a thin line, and his eyes seemed to be sunk deeper than ever beneath the heavy brows. She swallowed carefully.

  “I-I daresay you saw her safely home again, sir.”

  “I did. And I don’t mind telling you, I said a few things to her that she won’t forget in a hurry.”

  “Oh dear,” Nell said, frowning. “I wish it may have done some good, sir, for I expect she deserved every word. However, I—”

  “She deserved a good thrashing,” he retorted, not one to understate matters, “While as for you, my girl—”