A Matter of Honor by Nina Coombs Pykare

here. As your guardian I am empowered to turn away anyone I please. The f i nal decision is mine.”
    “That’s not fair,” screamed Cecilie , again jumping to her feet and beginning to pace around the room in a distracted fashion. “I am the one who has to live with the man, aren’t I?” she demanded angrily.
    “I have not overlooked that.” The Earl was obviously doing his best to keep his temper in hand. “But I know these two. They are both fortune hunters of the worst stripe. There is no way that I would let you marry either of them.” His black brows met in the line that indicated his anger. “The matter is closed. We will not discuss it further.” He glared at her until she resumed her seat.
    But Cecilie was not cowed. Even as she sat there, she returned his glare defiantly.
    The Earl spoke slowly, evenly, and his tones carried the greatest authority. “The Marquess is an honorable man. It ill behooves you to dismiss his suit so lightly.” He paused, fixing his eyes on her sternly. “The Marquess has requested permission to call. I have given it to him. You may expect him this afternoon.”
    Cecilie’s chin jutted out stubbornly. “I won’t see him,” she declared angrily. “I despise the man.”
    “You will see him,” the Earl replied harshly. “And behave civilly. Otherwise you will no longer have a monkey for a pet.”
    Cecilie jumped to her feet, her face gone white at the threat. “You - you wouldn’t!” she cried in a voice that broke.
    Aggie felt real concern for the girl. It was not Cecilie’s fault that she had always gotten her own way. This was quite a painful awakening for her. And his lordship was not helping at all with his tyrannical, highhanded ways.
    “You mistake your man,” he said curtly, “if you think I make empty threats. I shall do anything necessary to getting you safely wed. Anything!”
    The threat was quite real. Even Cecilie saw that. She faced him for one long moment while the tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks. When finally she spoke, her voice was strained. “You are a despicable man,” she declared. “Quite the most depraved and cruel person that I have ever had the misfortune to know.” And holding herself in wounded dignity she marched slowly from the room.
    Aggie got to her feet to follow. Cecilie needed her now as she had never needed her before.
    “Miss Trimble !” The Earl’s words rolled through the room like thunder. Automatically Aggie fell back into the chair, her heart pounding in her throat. This was ridiculous , she told herself, her annoyance growing. Just because he had bungled the thing, he thought he could yell at her.
    She raised her eyes to his. “Yes, milord?” She deliberately kept her voice low and even in the hope that he would take a rebuke from it.
    Whether he took the hint was impossible to say. He did, however, modulate his tone somewhat. “I wish to speak to you. You can go to Cecilie later.”
    Aggie cast a look toward the door. In her present mood it was diff i cult to say what Cecilie might do. “I really should go to her -” she began.
    Denby’s mask of composure slipped. “Later!” he snapped, his eyes flashing with pent-up anger. “I want to talk to you. Now.”
    Aggie’s expression was not one of agreement, but she forced herself to nod. “Very well, milord. What do you want to talk about?”
    He flashed her a look of pure rage. “About that idiot charge of yours! What else?”
    Aggie felt her hackles rising. All this was his own fault. If he weren’t such a bully -”Cecilie is not an idiot,” she said.
    The Earl grimaced as though in pain. “She certainly behaves like one! She’s impossible.”
    He stared at her for several minutes while she searched her mind for some reply, but decided to make none. Rational discussion with a person in such a rage was well nigh impossible.
    “Well, have you nothing to say?” he demanded crossly. “I don’t know why you obstruct me like this. Surely the