Honor by Lindsay Chase Read Free Book Online

women.
    Honor was beginning to regret having agreed to come tonight.
     
     
    Robert took the port decanter that Freddie Horsley, banker and avid sportsman, slid across the table to him, and measured a cautious two fingers’ worth, no more, into his glass.
    The sumptuous dinner was over, and the ladies had retired to the parlor, leaving the gentlemen to their port and Amos Grant’s excellent Cuban cigars.
    Leaning back in his chair and unbuttoning the bottom two buttons of his waistcoat to let out his bloated belly, Amos Grant cleared his throat with a loud harrumph. “So, Davis, you from Boston?”
    “Maine, originally.”
    Grant puffed on his cigar. “I have a place in Bar Harbor. Penny and the boys go up there every summer, and I join them on weekends.”
    Now we’re getting down to business, Robert thought. This is where they see if I’m one of them.
    He considered fabricating an acceptable background, but then he realized that anything he said would get back to Honor or her aunt through Saltonsall. No, best to tell the truth. At least for now.
    He sipped his port and hoped for the best. “My family owned a farm near Portland.”
    “How many acres?” Grant demanded. “Five hundred? A thousand?”
    “Only two hundred.” He saw Grant analyze that information and conclude that Robert Davis was “not one of us.”
    Freddie Horsley said, “There’s good shooting up in Maine.” The banker believed that most animals were put on earth to be shot, hooked on a line, or chased by hounds. Of the men Robert had met tonight, he had found Horsley to be the most likable and congenial. “Do you do much hunting, Davis?”
    “I go shooting occasionally.” A lie, but he doubted that it would ever be tested.
    Saltonsall smiled. “To Freddie, hunting means riding to hounds.”
    Cleavon Frame, another lawyer and older than the other men present by a good twenty years, said, “Damn fool sport, fox hunting. Who wants to get up at the crack of dawn on a cold winter’s morning to bruise his balls bouncing around on the back of a horse?”
    “I do!” Freddie exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, the saddle doesn’t bruise the old balls; it toughens ’em up for the ladies.”
    Robert joined in the collective ribald laughter.
    Frame said, “It takes more than tough balls to please the ladies, Freddie. You should know that at your age.” When the laughter finally died along with Freddie’s good-natured indignation, Frame took a deep drag on his cigar and said to Robert, “How long have you known Honor?”
    “Several months. We’re classmates at the university.”
    Frame nodded. “She’s spent the last two summers clerking at Royce and Ellis.”
    Grant gave a disapproving harrumph. “I’m surprised you allowed her in the door.”
    Frame bristled at the younger man’s tone. “The Trees have been valued clients ever since the firm was founded, so we had to take her on or risk losing Theodate as a client. We had to hide Honor in a back office so she wouldn’t distract the men.” He chuckled lasciviously. “Especially me. She is one damn fine-looking woman. We won’t hire her when she graduates, of course.”
    “Is she incompetent?” Robert asked.
    Frame shrugged. “She could be another Oliver Wendell Holmes and we still wouldn’t hire her. It’s just not done.”
    Grant cleared his throat. “Can you imagine what kind of impression a beautiful woman would make on a jury? They’d find for her client whether he was guilty or innocent! There would be appeals right and left.”
    “Not to mention the absurdity of having a woman put ‘Esquire’ after her name,” Frame said.
    Robert said nothing. No use risking his future defending Honor when their minds were made up.
    Saltonsall sipped his port, obviously uncomfortable with the controversial nature of the conversation. “You’re a lucky man, Davis. Honor is a woman any man would be proud of.”
    Robert grinned in agreement. “I am lucky.”
    Freddie said, “If