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Authors: Nina Coombs Pykare

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Cecilie sighed. “I suppose it takes a great deal of study to be a painter.”

“It does indeed,” agreed Aggie. “And then a man is often not given the regard due his talents.”

“Are there no women painters?” asked Cecilie with the beginning of a pout.

“There was one in the last century,” said Aggie. “Angelica Kauffmann
.
She often painted the intricate ceilings and friezes of houses designed by the great architect Robert Adam. If I am not mistaken, she also did some portraits and allegorical scenes. Of course, her father was an artist, too.”

Cecilie shook her head. “I suppose I should not like to go clambering about on ladders and such. And I suppose the Earl would frown upon a painter for a husband.”

Aggie hid her smile. “I’m afraid so, my dear. Unless he were someone of great renown. And in that case he would most likely already have a wife.”

Cecilie grinned. “And, too, it might be calamitous if Dillydums were to get loose among all those paints!”

Aggie could no longer hide her smile. “Indeed it would,” she replied. “I expect you are much wiser to look elsewhere for a husband.”

Cecilie nodded. “Yes, I suppose so. But I should hope to get riveted soon. I am tired of hanging out for a husband.”

“Really
,
Cecilie. Riveted is hardly an appropriate word for entering the state of matrimony.”

Cecilie shrugged. “I don’t see why not. That’s what the Earl called it the other day when he was speaking to his friend.”

Aggie’s heart skipped a beat. Of course he would be cynical about marriage. He had managed to escape being leg-shackled for this long. Surely that was indicative of something.

“Drat,” said Cecilie suddenly, recapturing Aggie’s attention. “I should have been smart enough not to wear these new shoes. Could we go sit down on one of those benches in the middle of the hall?”

“Of course. We shall have to send the shoes to be stretched.”

“Yes,” said Cecilie. “I suppose so.”

They found two empty places together and sat down. Cecilie looked hurriedly around and then began to pat Dillydums
,
who seemed rather anxious for the chance of further exploration. “There are certainly a large number of people here,” Cecilie said.

“Yes,” agreed Aggie. “I guess Londoners like to be out and about - to be seen.”

“I suppose they do,” replied Cecilie. “That seems rather normal to me. It’s stuffy and terribly dull to be shut up in the house all the time.” She leaned back to consider a painting very near the ceiling and Aggie relaxed. It was lovely just to sit there and look around. She was lost in contemplation of a picture of a sunny tidewater. The water sparkled as if real and she wondered idly if it were the work of Calcott
.
He was not a great painter, but occasionally he did quite lovely things with water. How pleasant it had been in the days of her youth to wander here for whole afternoons, her maid trailing behind, her gaze resting on some picture while her mind was off in flights of fancy or serving up for her delectation memories of times with the handsome young Viscount. Just so had he looked at her, just these words had fallen from his lips. Her eyelids slowly closed as memories crept in upon her.

She almost jumped to her feet, so startled was she when Cecilie said, “Oh, Aggie, look who’s here.” Recovering herself, Aggie opened her eyes to f
i
nd Lord Gale beaming down on her. Today his attire was a little more decorous. There was nothing explicitly wrong with any particular piece of it. But taken together there was the feeling of something not quite right: a cravat too intricately tied or too high, a coat not quite as it should be. She could not be sure, but the effect of the whole made her uneasy.

Lord Gale, however, seemed in high spirits. He beamed down on her with cheerful friendliness and kissed her hand. Then he returned his admiring gaze to Cecilie
.
“Miss Winthrop
,
what a pleasant surprise to find you here. Do let me offer you my arm and we shall make a grand tour.”

Cecilie got to her feet with great alacrity. “Oh, that would be capital. Why don’t you wait here, Aggie, and rest? Lord Gale will take care of me.”

Aggie got to her feet too
,
shaking her head. “It’s very kind of Lord Gale to offer himself as escort. And we shall be pleased to have his services
,
but you know you cannot be going about alone.”

Lord Gale’s friendliness abated not a jot. “Of course,” he told Cecilie. “Miss Trimble
knows best.”

Cecilie was obviously not of the same opinion, but she made no further demurrer, merely prettily taking the arm Lord Gale offered and smiling up at him engagingly. That smile gave Aggie some concern, for it was decidedly that of a female on the catch for a husband. Still, she told herself, she would do well not to worry yet. Lord Gale might be a graceful dancer, and even a prime rider, though he had nothing of the athlete about him to indicate it. He might be (or say that he was) excessively fond of animals
and
children, but it was obvious from his shock of brilliant red curls that his chest could not possibly be covered with a tangled mat of black. Just wait, she counseled herself, and Cecilie would see his weaknesses. She must.

As she followed them from place to place, only half listening to the bits of wisdom with which Lord Gale hoped to impress Cecilie, she caught herself wondering how the girl could possibly think this popinjay a man -when every day she had before her the example of the Earl - a gentleman of the first caliber. Of course, there was no accounting for taste and Cecilie was young and impressionable
,
easy prey for a man who knew how to offer extravagant compliments.

A sudden cry from Cecilie shattered her musings and with horror Aggie looked up to see Dillydums making his way across the crowded room by jumping from shoulder to elegant shoulder, with an occasional excursion across some frantic lady’s bonnet. “Oh
,
Aggie, do catch him!” Cecilie cried. “He’ll be so frightened.”

In indecision Aggie looked from Cecilie to the monkey. “Oh quick, he’ll be lost forever!” Cecilie cried, tears standing out in her eyes.

“Stay right here,” Aggie commanded, “until I get back.” Then she set out in pursuit of the monkey. It was not difficult to tell his direction since pandemonium seemed to follow in his wake. Several rather stout ladies had been so startled by his rapid advance across their ample shoulders that they had fallen victim to the spasms and were laid out prone upon the floor, being fanned and comforted by their hardier sisters.

Aggie tried to ignore the sharp looks that more than one patron of the exhibition gave her as she hurried on through the path of devastation. Finally, after skirting several fallen ladies, she reached the door and was most relieved to find that Dillydums had taken refuge in the arms of the man who guarded it. The monkey raised his little head and, spying Aggie, scrabbled into her arms.

“The little feller was just scared,” said the guard, glancing with contempt at the ladies whose palpitating hearts had so unnerved them. “And no wonder,” he continued, a twinkle in his eyes. “Them great creatures is enough to sceer anyone. And him such a little thing.” And he gave Aggie a wink.

“Thank you so much for holding him,” she said, giving the guard a warm smile. “I’m dreadfully sorry for the trouble he caused.”

The guard grinned. “To tell you the truth, miss, I get terrible tired standing here. You understand. The same old thing everday
,
a man gets tired. But today now, that was something else. Just wait’ll I get home and tell my little one about it.” He chuckled. “Her eyes’ll get bigger ‘an saucers.”

Aggie returned his smile. “Well, thank you for your help. I have to get back to my charge.”

The guard nodded and, Aggie, clasping the monkey tightly, turned back to where she had left Cecilie
.
But to her dismay when she reached the spot, she found neither the girl nor Lord Gale. Quickly, ignoring the baleful glances that were coming her way from everyone now that she held the monkey
,
she made a survey of the large hall, but Cecilie was not in it.

Making her second circuit of the room, she again passed the friendly guard and on an impulse stopped to ask him, “Have you seen a young lady in a blue gown and a gentleman with red hair? I seem to have lost them.”

“The gentleman’s hair was real bright! And the lady
,
hers was golden?”

“Yes. Did you see them?” Aggie asked eagerly.

“Well, miss, it seems to me I saw such a pair going through that door over there.”

“Thank you.”

“Miss,” said the guard, “there’s a little parlor through there. Like as not the gentleman was taking the lady in there to rest. It appeared like she was faintish
.
She leaned on him heavy like.”

“Thank you.” As quickly as possible Aggie made her way toward the door. There was something very wrong here. Cecilie had never been faintish in her life. The vapors and the spasms were equally unknown to her. Oh, why had she consented to bringing the monkey? Aggie asked herself.

She opened the door and hurried through. She was standing in a long hall and for a moment she hesitated, not knowing which way to go. Then she heard a soft girlish giggle from a room several doors down. The giggle sounded like Cecilie’s
.
It must be her,
thought Aggie, clutching the monkey and hurrying in that direction. She burst through the door to f
i
nd Cecilie reclining on a divan and Lord Gale bending solicitously over her. He straightened as Aggie entered.

Ahh
,
Miss Trimble
.
I was just about to come looking for you. Miss Winthrop seems to have recovered from her feeling of faintness.”

Seeing the look on Aggie’s face, Cecilie quickly sat up. “Oh, you’ve got Dillydums
!
What a bad boy you are. Give him to me, Aggie.”

Aggie shook her head. “No, Cecilie, I will keep the monkey. I have had quite enough of chasing him for one day. Since you are feeling better, I believe Lord Gale had best escort us to the carriage.”

“Oh, but Aggie, I am quite recovered now. Really I am.”

“That may well be,” replied Aggie dryly. “However, the patrons of the Royal Society are not. Nor is Dillydums
.
Have you no concern for him?”

She did not miss the quick exchange of looks that took place between Cecilie and Lord Gale. Then the young man smiled and added his entreaties to Aggie’s. “Of course, Miss Trimble is quite correct. You must both go home and recuperate from this dreadful accident.” And Cecilie, though she was plainly unconvinced by his argument, nodded in acquiescence and got to her feet.

In silence Aggie followed the pair to the street and watched while Lord Gale helped Cecilie into the carriage and gallantly kissed her hand. “Until we meet again, fair lady.”

And that
,
thought Aggie as she climbed into the carriage, was going to be quite a long time if
she
had anything to say about it. She was not at all convinced that Dillydums’s
escapade was an accident and even less sure that Cecilie’s meeting with Lord Gale had not been arranged. There was too much coincidence here for comfort and the knowledge that she would have to inform Denby of the day’s events did nothing to alleviate her feelings of unease.

But, as they reached home after a quiet ride and she inquired of Bates concerning when she might see the Earl, she discovered that he was to dine out and did not expect to be home until very late. So, leaving a message with Bates that she wished a moment to speak to his lordship, she went about her other business.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

The next day did not get off to a judicious beginning. After tossing and turning far into the night, Aggie f
i
nally fell asleep near dawn, with the result that she did not waken until far later than her usual hour. Her f
i
rst act after dressing was to seek out Bates, from whom she learned that his lordship had already gone out and would speak to her later in the day. The usually even-tempered Aggie also snapped at the butler when given this piece of dismaying news and she took herself off to the garden to settle her nerves. She could not go about on edge like this until the Earl returned. And why, she asked herself angrily, hadn’t he had courtesy enough to have her wakened? Surely he knew she would not bother him about mere trifles.

She reached the garden and sank down on the stone bench among the roses. Where had he been last night anyway? Probably in Lady Alicia’s boudoir. Aggie clenched her f
i
sts angrily. That woman made her so irritated. But at least he could have seen Aggie this morning. Her head went up sharply at a sudden thought. Perhaps he had not come home at all! Perhaps he had spent the entire night with Lady Alicia - and Bates was protecting him!
That must be it,
she thought, her anger fleeing and leaving behind only despair. She had no right to anger. She had refused his offer of carte blanche, refused it before he had really had a chance to make it. She sighed deeply. Much as she loved him, she could not so demean herself - in her own eyes
,
and eventually in his. Lady Alicia, however, seemed to have avoided any such qualms. She obviously gave her favors when and where she pleased. And right now she pleased to give them to the Earl of Denby
.

Aggie jumped suddenly to her feet. This kind of thinking was futile. She would go to the library and f
i
nd something to expand her mind - and none of the poetry of that notorious Lord Byron either. That would only make matters worse. She would read in Boswell’s
Life of Johnson
or perhaps Gibbon’s
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.
What she needed was something heavy enough to occupy her thoughts.

But shortly after midday Aggie had to admit that her plan had not worked. Dr. Johnson’s witticisms had failed to engage her attention and she had gotten no further than Gibbon’s f
i
rst discussion of Roman civilization, which she had read some three or four times without taking the real sense of it. The truth of the matter was that until Denby returned and she had her chance to talk to him, she was going to remain uncomfortable in spite of all her efforts.

BOOK: A Matter of Honor
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