An Affair of Honor (21 page)

“Oh, he is kind enough, I expect, when one has not managed by some means or other to displease him.”

“Rory,” Nell said suddenly, “do you truly wish to marry him?”

“Well, of course I do. What a perfectly ridiculous question, when it is all settled. Why should I not wish to marry him?”

“More to the point,” Nell countered, looking directly at her, “I cannot conceive of a single reason why you
should
wish to do so. I know it is hardly my place to say anything, but I cannot help having noticed that you feel none of the tenderer feelings toward him. I expect he cares for you, of course, but—”

“Not a rap,” Rory declared. “I told you that before.”

“Then, how can you wish to spend the rest of your life with him?”

Rory looked a trifle daunted by Nell’s particular phrasing, but her chin came up, and she soon had herself well in hand. “It is truly a wonderful opportunity for me, Aunt Nell. Surely, you would be the first to wish me a splendid marriage.”

“There can be no doubt of that, my dear. But I would wish you to marry someone you could care deeply for.”

“Love, you mean,” Rory said with a laugh. “Goodness, Aunt Nell, I never expected you to be a romantic. Mama says that’s all very well and good in books, mostly rubbishy books. But she says a girl has to think ahead past smiles and soft words to proper gowns and sufficient servants to make one comfortable, and elegant carriages with well-bred horses to drive behind, and … well, all that sort of thing. I expect you have never clapped eyes on Huntley Green. I have not either, but my papa assures me that it is a seat worthy of an earl and his countess. And I shall very much enjoy being a countess, Aunt Nell.”

“But Huntley means to spend most of his time in Kent, my dear. You have always talked as if you yearn for a gayer life than that.”

“Oh, I do, and Mama says I needn’t bother my head about it, that Huntley will do as I wish him to do. Moreover, if he should not wish to accompany me to London, I shall simply go by myself. Mama says a good many married ladies do just that and that they have a cicisbeo or two to take them ’round if their husbands cannot do so. I think it sounds like good fun, so I daresay I should prefer it if Huntley did remain in Kent.”

Thus outlined, the prospect made Nell shudder, and it occurred to her, not for the first time, that Rory’s mama had talked a great deal of nonsense. The more she thought about it, the less she liked the idea of the forthcoming marriage. Rory deserved to find that life had more to offer than fine carriages and worldly titles, and Huntley certainly deserved more than a wife who wanted only his money and position. For the next twenty minutes or so they rode together in near silence, while Nell searched her mind for some means by which her niece could be brought to value his lordship as she knew he ought to be valued.

When a rider suddenly appeared from a small grove of trees and seemed to be hurrying straight toward them, wrenching Nell from her thoughts, she was conscious of a wish that she had a pistol by her or that she had commanded Peter to carry one. However, one look at her niece’s smiling countenance caused her to relax once more.

“Is that your groom, Rory?”

“Yes. I expect he finished his errand sooner than he expected,” she replied glibly.

“Indeed.” Nell managed to keep her tongue before more words tripped off it. She had no doubt that the groom had been sent to carry a message from his mistress, but there would be time enough to make her opinion of such behavior known if the message had been answered. Whatever answer there was was gleaned from only the groom’s brief nod, but Rory seemed well enough pleased by it. Nell decided to test the matter by suggesting that perhaps it was time to begin their return journey. The suggestion was dismissed abruptly.

“Oh, no, ma’am. Why, ’tis such a splendid day. I should like to try another trail. What do you say to that one yonder?”

Nell agreed without comment but began keeping a weather eye peeled for the major, thinking he would no doubt soon join them. She was not disappointed. Less than a quarter hour later a splendid bay galloped over the small rise ahead of them, and its rider could be easily recognized as the tall Hussar officer. Rory, waving madly, nearly stood up in her stirrups, thus causing her mare to sidle nervously.

“Rory, for heaven’s sake, what are you about?” Nell demanded, feigning astonishment.

“It is merely Major Talcott, Aunt Nell, and he has seen us, too, for he is riding directly toward us.”

“How fortuitous,” Nell said, her tone dry to the point of being sardonic.

Rory glanced at her suspiciously, and Nell returned the look steadily. The younger girl hunched one pretty shoulder and twisted her lips into a slight pout. “Oh, very well, it is not a chance meeting, as I expect you know well enough. I asked him to meet us here.” She looked directly at Nell, as if she was gathering courage. Then her chin came up, and she licked her lips and plunged to the heart of the matter. “I wanted to see him quite desperately, Aunt Nell. Please try to understand. He was so angry with me last night because of that stupid business on the esplanade. I told him myself, thinking to amuse him. Only”—she paused, drawing a ragged breath—“only he didn’t find it amusing at all. He said I had behaved dreadfully and not at all as he should have expected me to behave. Also, he said he had thought I had better sense. And, oh, Aunt Nell, I do, and I mean to tell him so and also to tell him that I apologized to everyone, so he won’t be angry with me anymore.”

“But why should it matter that he might be vexed? That young man is nothing to you, and you didn’t care a rap for the fact that Huntley was displeased.” Watching her niece closely, Nell realized that the thought as she had expressed it hadn’t struck Rory before. She seemed taken aback, but she brushed the words aside impatiently.

“I don’t know
why
it should matter. I only know that it
does
matter. It matters a great deal that he should think well of me. Please, Aunt Nell, when he gets here, could you possibly be so obliging as to fall a bit behind so that I may speak to him properly? Surely it will not be so dreadful if you keep us in sight.”

Nell’s first inclination was to deny the request, but she thought better of it. After all, the major’s influence so far had been only beneficial, and at least he would not step beyond the line of what was pleasing. She could even hope that he might succeed in deterring Rory from future outrageous behavior.

She watched as, taking her reluctant nod for encouragement, Rory spurred the mare and sped to meet him. He turned his mount when she reached him, and Nell was thus left nearly a quarter mile behind. It did not worry her particularly, because it was fairly open country, and she did not fear losing sight of them.

Upon hearing a halloo a few moments later, she turned in her saddle and saw a horseman approaching at speed. She had no difficulty whatsoever in recognizing the broad-shouldered, loose-limbed gentleman atop the large roan-colored stallion moving with such liquid speed through gorse and over small shrubs as if he were on the prince’s own grassy racetrack. Reining in, she half-turned her mount and waited for him to draw even with her. A sudden thrill of pleasure shot through her, speedily replaced by dismay as she glanced back over her shoulder to discover that the major and Rory had disappeared over a small rise. As she looked back again, Huntley waved, and she marveled at how he seemed to be part of his mount. Like a centaur, she thought, watching him draw closer. The stallion was still moving at great speed, and she could hear his hooves pounding the hard ground. By all rights, she ought to have been terrified at the possibility of being ridden down, but the thought never so much as occurred to her, and she seemed to sense the very moment when he would draw rein, the very moment when the stallion would come to a plunging halt only feet from her. Both grooms, having drawn up a short distance behind her, sat their horses, gaping.

“What a magnificent animal!” Nell breathed. “He is truly splendid, Philip.”

“Never mind that,” Huntley snapped. “What the devil are you doing out here alone?”

She looked at him then. She had been so intent upon his beautiful horse that she had not realized he was angry until he spoke. But if she was to go by the look of him, he was very angry, indeed. Nell drew in a long breath, watching him much as if by doing so she hoped to calm his temper as well as her nerves.

“I am not precisely alone, my lord.”

“I can see that, girl. I’m not a ninny. But I am not referring to two sapskull grooms who would be of little use to you if you were to encounter ruffians of either the military or civilian variety. However, I was informed that Aurora would be with you.”

“Who …” Then she remembered Kit, and realized he had probably mentioned that Rory had been dressed for riding. In that case, of course Huntley’s anger was nothing more than annoyance that she had seemed to misplace Rory again. The notion restored her normal presence of mind, and hoping to divert his attention until they should at least come in sight of the other couple, she glanced at him quizzically. “I do hope you have not seen fit to murder my brother, sir.”

A reluctant smile lit his eyes then, and he relaxed in his saddle as he drew the huge stallion in closer. “I didn’t. I like him. But I did get a round tale and gave him some good advice, so I daresay Aurora will find it a bit more difficult to get ’round him next time.” The smile touched his lips. “This little tangent will not answer, you know. Where is she? Don’t tell me she has been naughty enough to give you the slip.”

“No, but I fear you will not like what I have done, and so I did not like to tell you straight away.”

“Thought you weren’t afraid of me.”

“Don’t be nonsensical. ’Twas merely that I didn’t wish to incur your censure, and I do fear that by allowing Rory to speak privately with Major Talcott, I may have done just that.” He said nothing, and she stared at him fixedly. “Well, you might say something,” she said at last. “Are you vexed?”

“No, Nell, merely surprised. That Talcott fellow seems mighty stubborn, doesn’t he?”

She nodded, but then her conscience pricked her. “It was not his notion to meet us here, Philip. I am afraid Rory sent him a message. In fact, I think she had it in mind originally to come here in search of him. I scotched that by insisting that she must not ride anywhere alone. But though I realized she was up to mischief, it truly never occurred to me that she might arrange an assignation or that he would come to meet her if she did.”

“You underestimated them both, it seems.” But he smiled down at her, and she knew he was not angry. She smiled back. The two grooms had dropped back some distance, and Rory and the major were still beyond their range of sight, so she felt quite alone with him again and conscious of that odd feeling of shyness.

“I am glad you are not angry, Huntley,” she said at last, rather briskly. “Rory wanted to tell him she was sorry about her behavior yesterday. It seems she told him the whole last night, expecting him to be amused by the tale. He was not, and that is why she was so subdued on the way home and so apologetic later.”

Huntley was silent long enough to make her fear that she had annoyed him after all, but when she looked up at him, she saw that he was only deep in thought. It seemed a long time before he turned his gaze toward her, and there was a look in his eyes that she could not decipher when he did. It was gone seconds later, replaced by a rueful gleam.

“It appears likely that I shall have to have another talk with that young man before we are any of us much older,” he said. But for once his tone was not grim. Indeed, Nell thought he sounded much as if he regarded the prospect as a gloomy one.

W
HETHER OR NOT HUNTLEY
did speak to the major, Nell had no way of knowing, but she suspected that he must have done so, for during the week that followed the excursion to the Downs, although she and Rory chanced to meet Major Talcott on more than one occasion, his attentions seemed less particular than those of Rory’s other countless admirers. Huntley made good his promise to escort them whenever Nell pressed him to do so, and as time passed, she found that less and less persuasion was necessary. Indeed, he had a tendency to meet them at functions even when she had neglected to request his escort.

The one factor that nearly convinced her that he must have said something to the major, however, was that the latter, unlike the myriad of others, did not pay morning calls in Upper Rock Gardens.

Huntley himself came often, though he spent most of his time conversing with Lady Agnes or Nell. Harry Seton came nearly every day, and so did a number of other fashionable gentlemen. And not all of the others came merely to visit the Lady Aurora. At least two showed a decided preference for her aunt.

Some ten days after their excursion to the Downs, the two ladies found themselves entertaining no fewer than six gentlemen callers. Four of these were gathered about the Lady Aurora, nearly overwhelming her with their compliments and maneuverings. But if she hoped for assistance from her aunt, she was to be disappointed. Nell had her hands full.

She was seated upon the low sofa in the window bay, flanked by her two most recent admirers. Upon her right sat Mr. MacElroy, precise to a pin in buff pantaloons, shining Hessians, a gaily embroidered rose-colored waistcoat, and a coat of bottlegreen kerseymere so tight-fitting that it must have necessitated the efforts of at least two hefty footmen as well as his valet to squeeze him into it. His neckcloth was intricately tied and so stiffly starched that he could scarcely move his head. Therefore, he had been forced to sit on the very edge of the settee with his whole body skewed toward Nell in order to converse with her.

Her other visitor, by comparison, was relaxed to a point that her father would certainly have castigated as behavior unbecoming a gentleman. He was Sir Thomas Maitherstone, who, somewhat to Nell’s dismay, had proclaimed himself a poet and requested her permission to dedicate his latest set of odes to her beauty. Sir Thomas had presented himself in Upper Rock Gardens attired in a loose-fitting drab coat, buckskin breeches, riding boots, and—worst of all—with a checkered handkerchief knotted around his thin neck. His appearance was such, in fact, that Pavingham had declined to show him into the drawing room without first seeking permission from Nell. She had granted it willingly, for Sir Thomas amused her, but she could scarcely help being startled by his appearance.