Still, Haslemere cast Gideon an uneasy look. “You realize you’re putting Cecilia at risk by keeping her here, don’t you, Darlington? Mrs. Honeywell is a low, malicious woman, and she doesn’t appreciate her daughter being slighted. If she chooses to take offense—and she likelywill—it won’t be you who catches the razor edge of her ire. It will be Cecilia.”
Gideon opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realized Haslemere was right. If Mrs. Honeywell had the opportunity, she’d make Cecilia suffer for his folly. He didn’t like the idea of Cecilia suffering—not for his sake, or anyone else’s. He didn’t like it at all.
“No, she won’t.” Gideon tossed back the rest of his port. “I’ll make certain Cecilia’s kept out of Mrs. Honeywell’s way. The woman can rage all she likes, but she won’t get the chance toharm Cecilia.”
* * * *
Mrs. Honeywelldidchoose to take offense, and despite Gideon’s best efforts, she found a way to vent her frustrations. Her revenge, when it came, was swift, brutal, and utterly unexpected.
By the time Gideon realized it was coming, it was already too late.
It happened in the drawing room the following evening, while Miss Honeywell was performing on the pianoforte for a small group of neighbors and guests who’d been invited to a lavish supper that evening to celebrate the impending nuptials.
Cecilia shouldn’t have been anywhere near the drawing room. Gideon had taken Haslemere’s warning to heart, and instructed Mrs. Briggs to keep Cecilia and Amy safely out of the way in the kitchens until the guests had withdrawn to their bedchambers that night.
If he’d known Cecilia was passing through the corridor outside the drawing room, he might have been able to put a stop to it, but Mrs. Honeywell saw her before Gideon realized Cecilia was there, and before he knew what she was about, her shrill voice rang throughout the drawing room.
“Cecilia! How wonderful you should happen to be passing by just now. We need another young lady aside from my daughter to entertain us, and Lord Darlington has raved about what alovelysinging voice you have. Won’t you come in and perform for us?”
Gideon’s gaze shot to the doorway, and without realizing he did it, he rose to his feet.
The other guests looked at each other in confusion, and Miss Honeywell whirled around at the sound of her mother’s voice. She understood at once what her mother had just proposed fell shockingly outside the bounds of proper etiquette, and her pretty mouth fell open, her face going pale.
Miss Honeywell played like an angel, and she looked her best when she played, with flushed cheeks and her long, elegant fingers moving gracefully over the keys. It was expected she’d display her talents for the company.
But Cecilia wasn’t a lady. She was aservant, and servants didn’t perform for aristocratic company. It was unheard of to even suggest it—an insult to both Lord Darlingtonand his guests.
Miss Honeywell lacked wit, but she wasn’t the ruthless viper her mother was, and she knew well enough her mother’s spitefulness reflected poorly onher. She leapt up from the pianoforte bench in protest. “Indeed, Mama, I’m certain she has nowish to play.”
“Hush, will you, Fanny?” Mrs. Honeywell’s eyes were glittering with malice. “Why shouldn’t the girl wish to show off her fine voice? Come, Cecilia, don’t stand there like a half-wit. There’s no need for such dramatics. No one here expects ahousemaid’sperformance to equalmy daughter’s.”
Miss Honeywell’s cheeks flushed with anger and mortification. The rest of the party sat there, speechless with shock, not one of them saying a single word. They looked from Mrs. Honeywell to Lord Darlington to Cecilia in flabbergasted silence.
Cecilia stood frozen beside the door, her face dead white. “I beg you’ll excuse me, Mrs.Honeywell, I—”
“No, indeed. Not on any account.” Mrs. Honeywell beckoned her forward with an imperious gesture, and jabbed her finger at the pianoforte. “Step aside, Fanny, and give Cecilia your place.”
“This is absurd.” Haslemere leapt to his feet, his face tight with anger. “Do you make a practice of forcing your housemaids to play for the company at your house, madam? I confess I find your request quite singular.”
Mrs. Honeywell gave an ugly laugh. “Not at all, my lord, but my housemaids are simple,obedientgirls, and they aren’t gifted with Cecilia’s alleged musical prowess.”
Gideon had heard enough. “Cecilia, you are excused.” His quiet voice sliced through the thick tension in the room.
Two livid streaks of scarlet painted Cecilia’s cheekbones, chasing away her pallor. At first Gideon thought she was flushed with mortification, but then she straightened her spine and lifted her chin in the air. “I’m quite happy to oblige Mrs. Honeywell, with your permission, Lord Darlington.”
Her gaze met his, and his eyebrows shot up at the look inher dark eyes.
She wasn’t mortified. She wasfurious.
“See? The girl’s anxious to show herself off. You can hardly deny us the pleasure of hearing her, my lord.” Mrs. Honeywell settled her pink ruffles around her with a jerk. “Not when you’ve gone on at suchlengthabout her superior skill.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean, madam.” Gideon, who could have happily throttled Mrs. Honeywell just then, didn’t attempt to hide his anger.
“Why, you couldn’t say enough about the girl’s sweet singing voice during tea yesterday.” Mrs. Honeywell gave him a poisonous smile. “You made me quite long to hear her for myself.”
“I said only that my niece enjoys hearing her sing.” Gideon’s voice was shaking with fury. “I fail to see how you took that as an invitation to demand she perform for the company.”
Cecilia stepped away from the doorway and into the drawing room. She was utterly calm, only her tight jaw hinting at her agitation. “I’d be pleased to sing for Mrs. Honeywell, if you don’t object, my lord.”
