by Kya Lind
A knock sounded on his door. Greyson jumped to his feet and ushered his grandmother in.
“You requested my presence? I have yet to have breakfast, you know.” SarahBeth Buckingham eyed her grandson in intense curiosity. He looked like he had not slept at all. His black hair was standing at odd angles away from his head. He had never summoned her to his private sanctuary before; and certainly not before breakfast.
Greyson pulled up a chair next to his grandmother’s and proceeded to repeat what Honesty had told him. They discussed what facts they knew and Greyson’s impressions of the situation. “In short, I want to know what happened. I want to know who he was, and why there was no scandal.”
His grandmother nodded her head in understanding, her mouth puckered in at sharp bow. “It may be hard to ask questions of events that happened five years ago without stirring old questions up. And if the scandal was squashed then, by poking around we may resurrect it.”
Greyson's eyes were flat with anger. “I trust you to do your best, but I want to know who that son o’. . .” Greyson caught himself at the last second and remembered who he was talking to, “rogue who hurt my Honesty was.”
His grandmother patted him on the knee in comfort.
♣♣♣
With difficulty Greyson respected Honesty’s request that he not seek her out either in public or private. He watched from a distance as she stuck close to her mother and sister’s sides. She seemed to have lost interest in the token game, and although the girls were trying, the boys were repeatedly in possession of the necklace at dinner. Greyson watched from his study window as each day Honesty was escorted around the gardens by one Lord Byron, always in the presence of her sister Prudence, during the hour that Mrs. Williams was occupied with the duchess.
Greyson leaned his head against the hot glass of the window as he watched the three stroll through the garden. Honesty spent her time smelling the roses while the other two had eyes only for each other. Greyson was surprised that no one had reported to their mother this fact. It wasn’t as though the pair was any good at hiding their infatuation. Greyson frowned, and realized that he was holding them a bit in contempt because they were not masters at concealing their inner feelings as he was. After all, he knew himself to be so begotten he couldn’t think straight, and yet no one, but a chosen few knew of this condition. Four of those he had informed himself: Robert, Lord Bryon, his grandmother, and of course Honesty. However, Honesty didn’t really count as she was the object of his obsession. On top of that, she didn’t even believe him. Why should she, as far as she could see he had turned it off easily when she had asked.
Where was her father? Greyson was about to send a carriage for the man. He needed to show up soon. Greyson grimaced; this whole courtship was not going as he had planned. He had foolishly intended for them to be engaged before the masque he had planned for her. The masque was to be the finale of their extended season. All the guests would leave within two days after that. Time was running out. He had no intention of letting Honesty leave him. She belonged in his arms. He let his mind wander, with the imagines of her laughing as she danced in his arms as he twirled her around the dance floor in another perfect waltz. The emerald locket sparkling from her throat; her beautiful, silk gown rubbing against his legs.
He jerked his head up. Dress – she didn’t have a dress for the ball, and it was only a week away. He growled at himself. She needed a dress. Maybe she could borrow one of Teresa’s. No, Greyson remembered that the last time the Honesty had borrowed his sister’s dress. It had been too short and her scuffed boots had shown. Shoes – she would need shoes also.. . And new petticoats, and under things. His mind paused on the image of her in said under things. Greyson groaned; her father really needed to get here soon.
♣♣♣
Greyson smiled in delight, but without surprise when Honesty was ushered into his study the next morning.
She stomped in and stood behind the leather chair. Her back straight and her hands clinched against her sides. She stopped and glared at him.
“Good morning, Darling.”
His soft spoken words were the final straw, the anger rolled off of her in waves. “You arrogant, despicable, odious, . . .” He could see her scrambling for more names to call him. “you. . . . you are. . .” words failed her.
“Caring . . . concerned . . . generous . . . Stop me when I find one you like.” Greyson had moved to the front of his desk and leaned nonchalantly against the wooden surface.
“You,” she moved closer and jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You,” she repeated, “cannot give me clothes.”
“You are welcome.” He smiled gently at her, ignoring her rage.
“I will not accept a gift of a ball gown from you,” she shouted as she stomped her foot in frustration.
He reached forward and slipped an errant, dark curl back behind her ear, his touch slow and gentle. She spun away from the contact and stomped to the window. She stared out trying to get control of her emotions.
“And I believe the offer of the party clothes came from my grandmother, not me.”
“Your sister,” she corrected him, her voice stiff, her teeth clenched.
Greyson’s eyebrow went up, “Better still.” His voice was low and soothing.
“You can’t do this kind of thing, it is not right.” Greyson heard the quiver of tears in her anger.
“I am allowed to take care of you?”
“No, you are not. You have no right. Just stop. Stop giving me things: jewelry, books, clothes,” she waved her hands in exasperation.
“I knew you did not have a ballgown, and I wanted to make sure that you and your sister were dressed correctly so that you could enjoy the festivities.” He moved toward her slowly, he wanted to take her in his arms, but realized at this second she was likely to rip out his eyes.
“Me and my family’s clothing situation is none of your concern,” she declared.
“Everything about you is my concern.”
“You have made everything so much worse.” Honesty glared at him, “You don’t understand. Now mama is all, but bragging that Pretty is expecting a proposal from you soon. She will never accept Lord Baron’s offer now.”
Greyson frowned. “I am sorry that your mother is choosing to misinterpret ‘my sister’s’ intentions.”
“When she finds out that we are lying to her, she is going to be humiliated. There is no way to fix this mess.” Honesty wrapped her arms around her own middle, and the anger faded from her voice.
Greyson reached forward and pulled her stiff body into his arms. “I will figure something out.” “At this point, you cannot decline the clothing, without explaining to your mother why you are refusing my sister’s offer.”
Honesty groaned, “This is so unfair. I didn’t even do anything this time and it is still my fault.”
Greyson was distracted by the feel of her in his arms, and the faint smell of vanilla in her hair. He leaned his head forward his lips near her ear. “I have missed you, Darling.” His mouth slid to place a kiss on the top shell of her ear.
He let her go when she jerked out of his arms and quickly put the chair between them. “Why do you insist on saying inappropriate things like that?” she scrubbed at the spot on her ear with her hand in an attempt to erase the kiss.
Greyson chuckled softly, “Just because I am not seeking you out, does not mean I have changed my mind.”
Honesty glared at him.
“Never misunderstand, I am only honoring your request until your father arrives.”
Her glare turned to a question.
“I have sent a carriage for him.”
Her mouth formed a silent ‘o’.
There was a knock on the door. At Greyson’s grandmother appearance, Honesty curtsied and, after apologizing for her abruptness, fled.
Greyson stood in the doorway and watched her disappear down the hallway. His grandmother settled herself in the high-back chair and waited. Greys
on moved a chair to her side and sat, “Grandmother, what a surprise.”
SarahBeth observed him closely. He leaned back seeming unhurried to find out why she had sought him out.
“I think I have received the answers you wanted.”
Greyson sat forward.
“I sent a letter to my sister in town, and she has written me back, a rather, long letter. It seems that she was present the season that your young lady came out, and she remembers her. After some quiet digging, she discovered what she believes is the truth from Lady James, a cousin to Lady Cantwell. It seems that Lady James and her cousin Lady Cantwell are not at this time on speaking terms because of a dispute that occurred last spring at a family gathering.”
Greyson looked at his grandmother with vexation, “What does it have to go with Honesty?”
“Well, dear, I am trying to tell you. Lady James is not on speaking terms with Lady Cantwell and, therefore, much more likely to share dirty little family secrets than at other times. This is a benefit to us as she was willing to disclose the details of what happened to Honesty.”
This statement had Greyson’s attention.
“Well, according to my sister, Lady James told her that five years ago when Honesty came to town, Lord and Lady Cantwell’s oldest son became enthralled with the beauty and was distressed with the young lady’s rebuff. Lady James reported that he had started making embarrassing scenes at several events because of his uncontrolled jealousy for the attention Miss Honesty was receiving from all the young bucks.”
Greyson nodded his head.
“It seemed that the young man, Dalton Cantwell, managed somehow to spirit Honesty away at a ball and no one realized she was missing until early the next morning when they were discovered in his bedroom by his mother. It seems that Miss Honesty claimed to not remember anything that had happened and flatly refused to marry the young man. Lady Cantwell was upset by the situation, and didn’t want her son to marry a nobody from Conway, so Lady Cantwell paid the Williams a large settlement and Mrs. Williams took Honesty and went home. The reason that there was not a scandal is because no one knew it happened, but the Cantwells and the Williams.”
Greyson frowned as several facts still did not make sense to him. “Thank you, grandmother.”
She nodded, “Evidently the Williams promised that Honesty would not come back to London as part of the deal. Anyways at the end of that season, it had been arranged that Laura Snodgrass should marry Dalton Cantwell.”
Greyson wondered briefly how Laura Cantwell was going to enjoy being a widow.
♣♣♣
One night after dinner in the game room, several of the young ladies got into a debate with several of the young men about the skills of men compared to women. This discussion had arisen from the fact that Honesty had soundly beaten any and all contenders in chess, all of them male, and many of them skilled in the game.
Lord Goodman shook his graying head as his game pieces dwindled on the board. “How can one so pretty, play so ruthless in a game of men? It just doesn’t seem right?”
“Are you implying, sir, that a girl must be homely to be smart?” Honesty said as she captured his queen.
Lord Goodman frowned with vexation at the board, “Present company excluded, I have found this to be the case.”
His daughter, Sarah, huffed, “and which category do you feel I am in, father?”
“Why you are beautiful,” her father responded, not realizing the trap that he had just set for himself.
“So you do not think I am capable?”
Lord Goodman looked up from the board in time to see the indignant look on his daughter’s face. “I did not say that,”
“Yes, you did, sir,” returned Mrs. Percy.
Honesty took his last rook.
“I believe Sarah to be smart for a girl that is why I paid to send her to Chalson’s Academy for young ladies.”
“For a girl?” exclaimed Teresa, “Are you saying that you think that females can not learn the same as men?”
Lord Goodman moved his queen’s bishop, and Honesty quickly captured it. Lord Goodman scowled at his mistake. “I did not say any such thing.”
“But it is true,” the Earl of Suxess offered, “We do not have school with girls and boys together because the females could not keep up.”
“The reason we do not have schools with both is because the males have a hard enough time competing against each other. Can you imagine if they were to lose in that competition for everything against females? Their egos would be crushed,” Mrs. Percy stated.
“What a silly thing to say,” interjected several young men.
Mrs. Percy bristled at the word silly. A word only used by men to imply that women’s ideas and actions were stupid. Honesty cleared Lord Goodman’s guarding pawn off the board.
“Am I to understand that if two intelligent persons - one female and one male - were set to a task that neither had seen before that the male would always win?”
“No,” defended the boys, “some tasks are just better done by females.”
“Such as?” demanded Teresa.
“Well, women things. You know, cooking and cleaning. . .sewing and raising children.”
Teresa was flushed with color. Her eyes sparkled in anger. Honesty blocked Lord Goodman’s retreat with her queen.
“So you are declaring that females do not have the brains to compete on an even level with males in a male activity.”
“Females are just not designed for a task involving muscle.” The young man answered back.
“But in a task that depends entirely on thinking females cannot compete?” Teresa demanded of the audience, just as Honesty toppled Lord Goodman’s king. “A game such as chess that the lovely Miss Honesty has repeatedly won at - against all of you.”
“That is only because she has been practicing and remembers all the moves. Besides she did not win against the duke.”
Greyson who had been observing this situation and the resulting discussion had moved to the edge of the group.
“So,” he drawled, “the lovely Miss Honesty and I should play a game to determine the truth of the argument.”
Honesty’s eyes jumped to his. Her gaze stated her refusal and her panic, but the group around them shouted their acceptance of the challenge.
Greyson sat in the seat across from Honesty as the chess board was once again set up. “Have you ever played to lose, Miss Honesty?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Then we shall play a game as equals that neither of us has played before. In this game, we will lose our pieces. If the kill is possible the other must take it. The king will be the last to die. The pieces move the same as regular chess. Agreed?”
Honesty frowned at the board in concentration and nodded. Greyson could see her thinking through strategies already. Greyson sacrificed his first pawn. The crowd cheered with each move and kill, but after thirty minutes of watching the two opponents stare intently at the board many of the onlookers wandered away.
“It is harder than it looks to lose,” Honesty sighed.
“Every game is hard to learn, but many times it is worth the effort to learn the new rules to even an old game. Take, for instance, the proposition I made to you in the library.”
Honesty frowned at the board, he was referring to his declaration that they should marry.
“We would not have to play the game by the rules of convention.”
Honesty jerked her head up and looked questioningly at her mother, The Duchess of Winston, and Lord Goodman, who still watched the match. The three did not seem to realize that the black-headed duke was no longer speaking of chess.
“The expected outcomes of such a game need not include the list of objections you listed in the garden.”
Honesty met his eyes. She knew he was talking about what she had said about babies being raised by governess, and boarding school, and mistresses. Color seeped into her cheeks was she moved to sacrifice her knight.
&nbs
p; “I fear that is one game I could not play well, Your Grace.”
Teresa had noted the young Miss Honesty’s reaction to her brother’s comment about games with new rules. She watched closely. She didn’t understand the undercurrents, but she was delighted by them. Teresa had been stunned when Robert had revealed what the duke had said in confidence about the young Miss Williams, and then his strange request that she provides the William sisters outfits for the ball. She had been excited at the situation and had been watching for days for evidence that the claim was true. Greyson never sought the girl out and only talked to her barely in passing. One would think that the two did not know each other, but here over this game they would talking about something that went much deep than the game they had before them.
Greyson moved his rook in the path of a pawn. “We would not be held to the rules of society in that particular game.”
Honesty tipped her head forward, “but the king and queen can still only move in the expected manner.”
“True to some extent. But I am sure between the two of us we could refine the game to ensure that both of us win.”
Honesty cut her eyes to her mother who was busy watching Pretty play cards across the room. “I am not allowed to play the kind of games you suggest, Your Grace.”
Teresa’s eyes shifted to her brother. From Honesty’s cryptic comment, it sounded as if her brother had suggested an improper relationship. Teresa frowned, hadn’t Robert said his intentions toward the young lady were honorable?
Greyson ignored his sister’s questioning gaze, and surrendered his last power piece.
