Honor (15 page)

“I don’t take kindly to people who try to cheat me,” he drawled in a calm, quiet voice that sent chills down Honor’s spine. “I tend to want to get even.”

“And I don’t take kindly to rich, powerful men who think they can take advantage of helpless women and threaten their lawyers.”

“You don’t strike me as helpless.”

“I’m not. I was referring to Miss Troy.”

He smiled and released her hand.

Honor turned and showed herself out. She forced herself to remain calm and didn’t start shaking until she was out on the street.

Once the lady lawyer shut the door behind her, Nevada seated himself behind his desk, took a photograph out of the top drawer, and studied the bespectacled young woman seated next to a silly, grinning skeleton, its bony hand resting on her shoulder as though they were boon companions, which they had been through medical school and her later practice. Though she had posed that way to make him laugh, the picture had turned into an ironic premonition of her own mortality. The photograph was all he had left of her, except memories both sweet and sad, so he kept it.

“Damnation, Sybilla,” he muttered. “Why’d you have to go and die on me?”

He leaned back in his swivel chair and put his feet up on his desk. Sadness and longing sure could make a man stupid. He had taken up with that scheming Lillie Troy only because she bore a remarkable physical resemblance to his Dr. Sybilla, with the same golden hair and green eyes. He soon discovered any resemblance ended right there. After six months of Lillie’s endless spending and cheating, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her, like a tick on a hound’s ear.

Now the venal little bitch was trying to extort money out of him with the aid of that she-devil in a shirtwaist.

Nevada stroked his mustache and smiled in spite of himself when he thought of Honor Davis. She had stood up to him when most men would have had the good sense to back down. He admired strength and courage in a woman, and this one had a backbone made of steel.

Perhaps that was what made her appear cold in spite of her dark, warm beauty. Or perhaps she only seemed that way because she had kept her features composed and neutral, never revealing her emotions even when baited.

He wondered what kind of man had dared to marry her.

Nevada put Sybilla’s photograph back in the drawer. As much as he would relish watching the formidable Honor Davis in a courtroom, he decided that paying Lillie off would be preferable to holding himself up for public ridicule. He was a private man who shunned the limelight, and he knew he had been foolish and indiscreet. He didn’t need to see his shortcomings written in headlines screaming across every newspaper in New York City.

Despite her strength and courage, Honor Davis should count herself lucky that their paths wouldn’t cross again.

Honor sat before her dressing-table mirror, inserting the emerald earbobs into her earlobes. Tonight she and Robert were sure to impress Hartford Fogg, his boss, who had invited them to dinner at his Madison Avenue home. Honor smiled at her reflection and turned to look at her husband struggling with his pearl shirt studs.

“We’re sure to cause a sensation,” she said, turning back to her mirror, “as the only married couple in New York City who are both lawyers.”

Robert made no comment. When he succeeded in conquering his shirt studs, he came over to Honor’s dressing table and placed his hands lightly on her bare shoulders. “Honor, do you love me?”

She looked up at his tight, solemn face reflected in the mirror. “What a silly question. You know I do.”

“You’d do anything for me?”

She hesitated, trying to ignore the little alarm bell going off in the recesses of her mind. Because she always strove to be a good wife, she replied, “Anything—within the limits of the law, of course.”

His grip tightened a fraction. “When we’re at the Foggs’, promise me you won’t tell anyone you’re a lawyer.”

All she could do was stare at him as though he had spoken in a foreign language. “You want me to do what?”

His jaw clenched. “You heard me.”

First came pain scraping every nerve ending raw, followed by anger so virulent that it grabbed Honor by the throat and shook her until she couldn’t breathe.

She shrugged out from beneath his hands and rose to-face him. “I can’t believe you could ask me to do such a thing. You, of all people, who know how hard I struggled against the Hubert Adcocks and Amos Grants of the world to become a lawyer!” Her voice grew louder and more incredulous. “And now you want me to deny it?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, raising his voice to match hers. “All of the men at the firm are just like Amos Grant and Cleavon Frame. They’re married to women who are just like Penelope Grant. They don’t understand women like you.”

Then Honor understood all too clearly. “You haven’t told them, have you?” His gaze slid away, and a guilty flush stained his lean cheeks.

“Damn you, Robert Davis! You’ve been working there for over six months, and you still haven’t told them that your wife is a lawyer.” He said nothing. “You’re ashamed of me.”

“That’s not true. I’m proud of you.”

“As long as your cronies don’t know about me, is that it?” A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped her lips. “I feel like a kept woman hidden away in a back street flat. I’m fine under the covers, but never good enough to be seen in public.”

Robert turned livid, his anger gathering around him like a whirlwind. “That’s not true, and you know it. For heaven’s sake, Honor, I’m asking you to do this one little favor to help advance my career.”

“You’re asking me to lie by omission. Do you think Fitch, Martin and Fogg won’t find out about me eventually? They must have noticed that a woman applied for admission to the city bar. Perhaps one of them even wrote that curt letter informing me that women are not admitted to the Association of the Bar of the City of New York.”

“Of course they all noticed. It was the talk of the office for weeks. Luckily, no one made the connection.”

“One day they will, and everyone will know that you lied.”

Robert just glared at her.

Honor said, “I may not have the august clientele that they do, but I’m slowly building a solid reputation among theater people.”

Robert gave a derisive snort. “Circus strongmen and second-rate actors.”

Stung, Honor retorted, “They’re still paying clients.” She reached up and pulled out one earbob, unmindful of the pain. “Since you’re obviously ashamed of me”—the other earbob came next—“you can go to your precious dinner party alone.”

Robert looked panic-stricken. “You’ve got to come. I told Fogg you were coming. Everyone wants to meet you.”

Honor glared at him, her fingers defiantly pulling hairpins from her hair, ruining the elaborate coiffure that Tilly had spent an hour devising.

Robert moistened his dry lips. “Honor, be reasonable.”

She tossed her head defiantly, letting her hair tumble free.

Anger hardened Robert’s eyes to shards of green bottle glass. “Steel Stays was just the right name for you. You cold, selfish little—” He caught himself. “Always thinking of yourself, never of me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Fair! You’re a fine one to talk about fairness. You don’t give a damn about me and what I want. How many other men would allow their wives to practice law once they were married? Wesley Saltonsall? Sydney Tree? Even your own precious father? Never.”

He pointed a proud finger at himself. “But I did. I’ve never forbidden you to do anything, which is my right as your husband. I’ve been lenient and indulgent with you, Honor, and now you won’t even do this to help me get ahead.”

“Lenient? Indulgent? Is that how you see yourself?” She shook her head. “I can see I’ve been laboring under the delusion that our marriage was a rare one among equals, not parent and child.”

Robert muttered, “I don’t know why I even bother trying to explain anything to you. You’re going to do as you damn well please, as you, always do, without any consideration for anyone else.”

Guilt tugged at Honor’s resistance. “Wouldn’t it be better to tell the truth right away? They will find out about me eventually, and when they do, they’ll know you lied.”

“I’ll tell them about you once I become a partner.”

“The way you were going to tell me about Priscilla Shanks once we were married?” She knew she had made a mistake the moment the hurtful, heedless words flew out of her mouth.

Robert said coldly, “I was wondering how long it would take you to throw that up in my face.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“But you did mean it. And you claim you love me.”

“I do.” In spite of her momentary anger, she realized that she did love him.

“Then you’ll do this for me.”

“What about my feelings? You know how much I hate dishonesty and lies.”

He glared at her. “I seem to remember that when we were in law school, you wanted to keep our relationship secret from the other students. I wanted to tell the world, but you were afraid that people would think you went to law school just to catch a husband. And didn’t I agree to go along with your deception?”

“That was different. We were just students. Now I’m a practicing lawyer, and the sooner your bosses know it, the better.”

“If you won’t do this, Honor, then our marriage is a sham. You may as well go back to Boston.”

She grew so still that she fancied she could hear her blood pumping furiously through her veins. “Are you saying you’ll leave me?”

He grasped her arms before she could evade him, his face a mask of torment. “Of course not. I love you too much to ever leave you. But I will be very disappointed.”

She knew that if she didn’t comply, he would make her regret her decision in a thousand little ways. They would engage in the most civilized of wars—a cold silence here, a cutting word there—until they chipped away at each other’s self-respect and their love turned to dust.

“All right,” she said with a bitter, resigned sigh. “If it will please you, I’ll go and pretend I’m Penelope Grant. But don’t ask me to like it.”

A triumphant smile lit Robert’s face, and he kissed her cheek before Honor could step away.

“Only this once, Robert,” she warned him, lest he think his victory was absolute. “You had better think of some way to tell your bosses about me, because I will not lie for you again.”

He took a step back, his features unreadable. “Get ready. We have to leave in a few minutes so we won’t be late. I want to make a good impression.” He turned and left the room.

Honor returned to her dressing table and brushed out her hair in long, painful strokes that scraped her scalp. After twisting her hair into a simple, elegant chignon that displayed her long, slender neck to best advantage, she replaced her earbobs, then tugged at her bodice to lower the neckline and expose more of the snowy swell of her breasts.

She took one satisfied look at her reflection and rose with a smile. If he wanted to treat his beautiful wife like a showpiece to decorate his arm, she would give him exactly what he wanted and more than he bargained for.

If you want to scintillate at a party, Aunt Theo had once advised her with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, look at every man in the room and speculate about how he makes love.

Well, I’m going to seduce every man here tonight, Honor thought the moment she and Robert stood in the doorway of the Foggs’ crowded parlor and felt all eyes upon her.

She had never deliberately used her beauty to draw people to her, seeing it as a liability in her attempt to be taken seriously. Tonight her reckless mood, fueled by her lingering anger at her husband’s betrayal, made her want to test her powers. She wanted to dazzle. She wanted to conquer. She wanted to leave hearts broken and bleeding at her feet.

A short, gray-haired couple who could have been twins approached them.

“Davis,” the man greeted them, displaying small yellow teeth as he shook Robert’s hand. “Mrs. Fogg and I are delighted that you and Mrs. Davis could come tonight.”

Mr. Fogg, Honor decided, made love in the dark and quickly. She suppressed a giggle.

When Robert introduced Honor to his boss, she dazzled him with her smile, then complimented his wife on her lovely gown and her beautiful home.

Mrs. Fogg flashed yellow teeth, thanked her, and said, “Why don’t you come and let me introduce you to our other guests?”

Most of the twenty or so guests seated or standing were lawyers and their wives, though several were clients whom Fogg was trying to woo. Honor burned to discuss cases with them, but restrained herself for Robert’s sake. To keep away from temptation, she sat with his bosses’ wives, earning a pleased, encouraging smile from her husband, which she did not return.

After making sure Honor had a glass of champagne, Mrs. Fogg introduced her to the other women present, and they chatted pleasantly about the differences between Boston and New York.

Activity by the parlor doorway caused Mrs. Fogg to say, “Ah, I see our last guest has finally arrived.”