The Trouble With Honor (The Cabot Sisters #1)

Honor made her way to the earl’s side and crouched beside his chair, covering his hand with hers. “How do you fare this evening, my lord?”


He smiled at her, touched the back of his hand to her cheek. “I am fatigued, darling, but otherwise, I feel well enough, I suppose. You look beautiful.” He cocked his head to see the obsidian choker and smiled. “Look at your daughter, Joan,” he said, putting his hand on his wife’s hand. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Honor’s mother turned a bright smile from the conversation with Mr. Cleburne, Augustine and Monica to Honor.

Honor smiled and touched the black choker. “Do you remember the necklace his lordship gave me on my birthday, Mamma?”

Her mother’s gaze dropped to the necklace a moment, then slowly lifted to Honor’s eyes again. “Of course I recall it. You’ve taken it from my jewelry box.”

Augustine chuckled and said to Mr. Cleburne, “There is never a moment’s peace with so many women, sir. But you will grow accustomed to it.”

Honor was so anxious to dispel any idea that she might have taken the necklace from her mother that she only vaguely wondered why Mr. Cleburne would need to grow accustomed to sisters. “No, Mamma! The earl made a gift of it to me, remember?”

“You stole it,” her mother insisted, her gaze suddenly dark and distant. Standing just on the other side of her, Monica’s gaze widened with surprise.

“She’s not stolen it, Joan,” said the earl. “I gave it to her.”

Her mother yanked her hand free of the earl’s. “Why would you lie to protect her?”

Stunned, Mr. Cleburne looked from Honor to Lady Beckington. “May I be of some help?”

Augustine was gaping in shock at his stepmother, and Monica... Monica’s gaze was fixed on Honor, neither surprised nor smug. She seemed only curious as to what Honor would say next.

God in heaven, she knew. She knew Honor’s mother was going mad.

Honor’s heart began to race. She quickly took off the necklace. “Here, Mamma. You are quite right, I have taken it without permission.” She held the necklace out to her mother.

Lady Beckington turned away from it, as if looking at it hurt her. “I don’t want it now,” she said, as if the necklace had been ruined. “Oh, there she is! There is my daughter Grace!” she said, and rose, almost pushing Mr. Cleburne aside as she reached for Grace.

Grace looked curiously at them all, but when her gaze met Honor’s, the color seemed to bleed from her face. “Good evening, Mamma,” she said, and kissed her mother’s cheek.

Her mother grabbed Grace in a tight embrace. “How thankful I am that you have come,” she said. “She stole my necklace!” She glared at Honor.

The earl very shakily reached his hand up to his wife’s arm. “Sit, Joan, sit, sit. I should like you near.”

Honor’s mother looked as if she meant to refuse her husband, but Mr. Cleburne put a hand on her elbow, guiding her into the chair. With one last glare for Honor, she smiled up at Mr. Cleburne as if everything were quite normal, as if she hadn’t just accused Honor of stealing from her.

But Augustine, Monica and Grace were all looking at Honor uncertainly, not knowing what to say. And what was Honor to do?

It was the earl who saved her. He subtly touched her hand. “Bloody women,” he said, his voice rough. “Always arguing over this jewel or that shoe, are they not, Cleburne?” he said with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

Mr. Cleburne laughed with anxious relief. “Quite so, my lord.”

“If you will excuse me, my lord, I should make sure the kitchen is in order,” Honor said, to which Grace’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline, seeing as how Honor rarely set foot in the kitchen. Nonetheless, Honor walked on, the necklace still clutched in her hand.

But as she moved away, she couldn’t seem to settle her heart, racing with fear.

She wished she knew what to do, she wished, oh, God, how she wished that she had taken her responsibility to marry more seriously. If she had married, she would be in a position to care for her mother without fearing what would become of her.

Honor needed air, a moment of quiet to think. She stepped out of the ballroom and into the crowded hallway.

A touch to her arm startled her; she looked up to see George Easton.

He gave her a subtle wink as he bowed before her. “There you are, Miss Cabot. I thought perhaps you had returned to London, as I’ve seen hide nor hair of you since I left all my cares behind to come to your aid.” He cocked a brow, a playful smile on his lips.

Her foolish heart skipped several beats at the sight of him. She suddenly didn’t feel quite so alone. “Perhaps you’ve not seen me about because you were well occupied?” She arched a brow right back at him.

“Indeed I was,” he said agreeably. “I spent the afternoon playing croquet with your future sister-in-law and charming her into submission. You do recall, do you not, the reason for our acquaintance?” he asked, gesturing back and forth between them.