An Affair of Honor (15 page)

“But there is no female near him except that fat old woman,” she protested.

“That is Mrs. Fitzherbert.”

“But she is old!”

“In point of fact,” Kit explained, “she is merely five years older than the prince, who is today celebrating his forty-fourth birthday.”

“Age has not been kind to her,” Lady Agnes observed, “but I think she has a charming countenance.”

“Her mouth is ugly, and her false teeth don’t fit properly,” Kit disagreed.

“But even you must agree that her other features are still very good,” Nell said, “and her manners are very good-humored.”

“She is very fat,” Rory said flatly. “Not so fat as that dreadful Lady Pomfret who made such a spectacle of herself at the assembly last night, but then Lady Pomfret is not so old. And she had the good sense,” she added, settling back in her seat, “
not
to wear a gown cut so low as to display most of her bosom.”

“Aurora!”

“Well, only look for yourself, Grandmama. I daresay, if she so much as coughs, the whole thing will spill right out.”

“But you should never discuss such matters in the presence of gentlemen, my dear,” complained her ladyship in failing accents. Sir Henry, dapper in a gray coat and cherry-striped waistcoat, his long gray curls confined at the nape of his neck with a narrow, black ribbon, had appeared to be dozing in his corner. However, he proved now that he was sufficiently alert by handing Lady Agnes her crystal vinaigrette, which he had carried in his waistcoat pocket. She smiled her thanks.

Rory was unrepentant. “I daresay my chatter does not scandalize Sir Henry,” she said, grinning impishly at him.

Sir Henry sat up a little straighter and smoothed his neckcloth. “Not at all, my dear child. Mere youthful high spirits, Lady Agnes. I promise you I shall not regard it.”

She patted his hand, but Kit could be heard to mutter a suggestion, just as the barouche was drawing to a halt, that his niece should try for a little conduct. Nell had small hope, however, that this very excellent advice would be much heeded.

The day was already turning warm. Even the breeze blowing across from the cliffs was a balmy one, and as the younger members of the Lindale party descended from the carriage, it was clear to them that the merrymakers were prepared to enjoy themselves.

The late morning and early afternoon were filled with such activities as jackass-racing, girls’ footraces, and sack races for men, as well as other amusing diversions. Meanwhile, a whole ox was being roasted on the green and, once the signal was given, the men, women, and children pushed and jostled each other to get pieces of meat that were often burning hot cut off the carcass with a broadsword, while hogsheads of beer were set about so that people might help themselves.

Kit had promptly taken himself off, leaving his sister and niece to their own devices. At first, Nell did not mind a bit. The atmosphere was contagious. Her charge was excited and keenly enthusiastic, even to the point of bewailing the fact that she had not been warned to wear more sensible shoes.

“For then I might have entered the footrace, Aunt Nell. I am a very fast runner, so I daresay I might easily have won the gown they are offering as first prize.”

“It is not customary for gently-bred young women to enter the contests,” Nell said diplomatically. “That gown is meant to be won by some girl who could ill afford to purchase it for herself.”

Rory accepted the explanation but joined the rest of the spectators in shrieking encouragement to her chosen favorites. It was not long before the constant din and surge of humanity around her gave Nell a headache, and she began to think rather longingly of her mother’s carriage. It had been drawn up on a low hill near enough for Lady Agnes to see what she wanted to see, yet far enough back to escape the worst of the din. And one would not be continually pushed and prodded.

By the beginning of the third contest, the crowds had thickened, making Nell wonder where her brother and his friends had taken themselves, for she had to admit she would have felt the better for their company. Once a burly townsman had actually clapped her on the shoulder and demanded to know what she thought of it all. He was perfectly harmless, she reassured herself, wondering at the same time what had become of Rory, who seemed to have been swallowed up by the crowd. The beer barrels had been tapped, and many of the men who had quenched their thirst more than once already might not be so harmless as the burly townsman. She wondered if it might not be the wisest course to insist that her niece accompany her back to the carriage. Where was Rory, anyway?

It was fifteen minutes before she found her, and by then Nell was nearly in a panic. She had decided it would be best to remain where she was and to let the girl find her; however, she breathed a sigh of relief when Rory simply appeared through the crowd. The younger girl did not look at all distressed but merely laughed and said, “There, I knew I should find you!”

“Where have you been?” Anxiety sharpened Nell’s voice, and the tone brought a little frown to Rory’s lovely countenance. She reached up to straighten her hat, which had been knocked off its pins by a tall, rather wide gentleman.

“Goodness, were you worried? I am ever so sorry, but I only just realized we’d got separated. I simply kept stepping to one side to let people pass, you know, and I suppose I must have stepped the same way every time. As soon as the race was done, of course, I realized it was not you beside me at all, so I pushed my way through the people till I found you. I knew you would wait for me. Please say you are not vexed, ma’am.”

The coaxing tone and pleading expression did much to restore Nell’s spirits. She even agreed that they might remain to watch just one more race. Then, because the one following that one was the men’s sack race, which promised to be particularly amusing, she agreed to remain for that one, too, and soon found herself laughing right along with the rest of the onlookers at the ludicrous positions the contestants seemed to get themselves into. When it was over, she had to pull her handkerchief from her reticule in order to wipe away the tears of laughter streaming down her face. But even as she mopped her cheeks, she realized that Rory had disappeared once more.

“Drat the girl!” Nell muttered, choosing from her brother’s vocabulary in order to vent her feelings more satisfactorily. She looked around, more in vexation than anxiety this time. The crowd seemed at first to be breaking up, but then she realized they were all moving in much the same direction. The races were over. The smell of roasting beef drifted on the gentle breeze, telling her even before word moved swiftly through the crowd, that the ox was done to a turn.

Still no sign of Rory. Catching sight of the royal party moving toward the gaily decorated tents erected for their comfort, she saw the prince, Mrs. Fitzherbert, the royal dukes, as well as Norfolk, Marlborough, and several other less august persons, but there was no sign of Huntley. Anxiously now, she began searching the faces in the crowd, hoping to find Rory before Huntley came in search of them both. It would certainly do her credit little good if he were again to think she had misplaced his intended bride.

“Aunt Nell, Aunt Nell, behind you!” Rory’s crystal voice floated clearly above the even rumble of the crowd. Nell turned, but her sense of profound relief was short-lived when she saw that her niece was being escorted by Major Talcott and another young Hussar officer. “Look whom I have found, Aunt Nell.”

Nell managed to achieve the semblance of a smile, and Talcott grinned cheerfully back at her. “Good day to you, Miss Lindale. May I present Lieutenant Lord Hubert Coltrain, who is a good friend of mine.”

“How do you do, my lord,” Nell replied politely. “Rory, where have you been?”

“Oh dear, did you think I’d got lost again? It was no such thing, I assure you,” her ladyship replied earnestly. “’Twas merely that I saw Major Talcott—he is so tall, you know, that he is rather conspicuous even in a crowd—and I decided to invite him to join our picnic. And Lieutenant Coltrain—or must I say Lord Hubert? One never knows. Anyway, he was there, too, and I was persuaded there would be quite enough food to share with both.”

“My friends call me Bounce,” Lord Hubert Coltrain informed them in confiding tones. Shorter than the major, he was a rather plump young man with an open face and eyes that reminded Nell of a friendly puppy, but his expression showed a touch of anxiety just then. “I trust, ma’am,” he said, “that we do not intrude.”

Nell had stifled an irritated sigh at the news of Rory’s impetuosity, but she was too well-bred to show her annoyance before the two young men. There was nothing to be done but to assure them with as much warmth as she could muster that they would be welcome to join the Lindale picnic. And whatever her feelings about her niece’s improper behavior, she had to admit—to herself if to no one else—that making her way through the crowd was much more comfortably accomplished with a masculine escort than without one. A moment later, when she saw Huntley approaching them, she was no longer so certain of that comfort.

His greeting was warm enough, and he did not seem particularly displeased to see their military escort. He even seemed to know Coltrain, and shook hands with him before drawing Nell back a little to walk behind the others.

“Should you not be walking with Rory?” she asked.

“What, and deprive her gallant swains of her company?”

“I don’t believe Talcott even knows she is betrothed, sir. I doubt she would tell him.”

“He knows. I told him myself last night.”

“Oh.” She digested this information, watching the trio ahead. Rory looked up at the major just then and her eyes fairly sparkled with pleasure as she laughed at something he had said. He grinned back at her. “I don’t think he means to let it make any difference, my lord,” Nell said. “Surely, he doesn’t behave like a man who has been warned away.”

“Oh, he will behave well enough. His career means a great deal to him, and I daresay he’d do nothing to jeopardize it. I don’t mind a friendship between them, so long as they both realize the relationship can go no further. I shall depend upon you, of course, to see that the young lady don’t disgrace herself.”

“I am beginning to feel very much imposed upon, my lord,” Nell replied tartly. “I’ll have you know that when I lost sight of her not long ago, I nearly panicked. Not for fear of what harm might come to her, mind you, but for fear of your reaction if I’d lost her. You simply must take some of the responsibility unto yourself.”

“Poor Nell.”

She glanced up to find him grinning at her, his eyes atwinkle. How could she have thought for a single moment, she wondered, that he’d lost his sense of humor and could only be cynical? The grin was an infectious one, and she found herself returning it, her brief annoyance all but forgotten. A heavy-set woman, hurrying to get in line for the roast ox, bumped into her, making her stumble slightly, and Huntley quickly placed a hand under her elbow to steady her. He did not take it away again once she had recovered.

Nell looked up again. “Thank you, my lord, but I am perfectly steady again, you know.”

“This is a dangerous mob. I might not be so quick the next time,”

“Mob, my lord?”

“Dangerous mob,” he repeated firmly.

Nell said no more. His hand was actually very light, at times not even touching her. But she knew it was there, and when it did touch her it seemed to send little sparks pulsing up her arm and all through the rest of her. It was only that she was unaccustomed to such chivalry, of course, she told herself. It was merely a case of nerves. That plus the fact that she was relieved to know she had not incurred his displeasure.

Neither Talcott nor Coltrain showed the slightest sign of discomfort at Huntley’s presence, and Rory seemed to be in her element, flirting indiscriminately with all three and with Sir Henry as well. She helped Nell to set out the food for the picnic, while the gentlemen assisted Lady Agnes to a thick quilt that had been spread for her comfort in the shade beneath a group of poplar trees.

No sooner had the food been set out than Kit appeared with Harry Seton and another young man, who was tall and as thin as a bean pole, with narrow gray eyes and a long, thin nose. His skin-tight green coat and yellow pantaloons gave him the appearance of a comic matchstick doll, and he wore a mauve-and-cream spotted Belcher kerchief tied around his neck, as well as a striped waistcoat of matching colors. Kit introduced him as the Honorable Timothy Tree, but if his attire was odd enough to draw public attention, it was his hairstyle that caused Nell to forget her polished manners and to stare with the others. His dark hair was arranged in tight little curls à la Caesar that fell in love-locks over his brow and around his ears. Moreover, he carried himself with such pomp as to make her think him a veritable cockscomb. And on the strut at that, she told herself wickedly. „

“Ain’t Timmy a pretty fellow?” Kit asked the group in general. “Puts the rest of us chaps in the shade, don’t you know.” The Honorable Timothy blushed to his love-locks, but other man that he seemed to take his friend’s roasting in good spirit. Rory announced that the meal was quite ready, and everyone fell to.

There was plenty of food and wine, and even Lady Agnes declared the picnic a huge success. Dabbing daintily at her lips with her serviette, she declared her intention of staying right where she was to rest and let her lunch settle.

“Take a catnap, more like,” teased Kit, with a chuckle. “You’ll miss the sailing races, Mama.”

“Kit, for the love of goodness, I have only just finished a meal. Have pity,” his mama begged him. “You know perfectly well that sailing vessels or indeed any boats make me quite dizzy.”

“Not if you merely watch them from the cliffs, Mama.”

“Always,” she replied.

“Well, Harry and Tim and I mean to watch them. We know of an excellent place where one’s view of the entire race will be unobstructed.”

“Oh, do let’s go with them!” Rory exclaimed, looking excitedly at Talcott and Coltrain.

Major Talcott shook his head. “It would surely be our pleasure to escort you and Miss Lindale, my lady, but there is a grand review scheduled for later this afternoon, so although I regret the necessity, we must take our departure in just a few moments to join our regiment. I hope you will come to watch the review.”