The banquet was absolutely wonderful. When Alexander had first told her about the invitation, Elizabeth was very excited to go; flying to England for a long weekend was a treat. So many of the functions he had to attend were strictly business – related and therefore inappropriate for wives to attend, but this was a function hosted by Oxford University to honor a retiring professor who also happened to be a good friend of his. The fact that she and Alexander have been married for many years without her ever laying eyes on this particular friend had been a running joke between them.
"So," she had said earlier in the evening as they were getting ready to attend, "I am meeting, finally, this alleged friend of yours. I shall be looking closely to make sure he is indeed a 'Cecil' and not the 'Cecelia' I've imagined all these years."
"My dear Elizabeth," Alexander had replied as he stood behind her and lovingly fastened the clasp on her long string of pearls, "There is not a woman on this planet who even begins to compare to you." He pulled the wife he still thought of as his bride into his body as he wrapped his arms around her. As he molded himself to her he whispered fervently in her ear, "If this dinner were for anyone else, I would be undressing you right now!"
"Alexander!" she had exclaimed in mock shock, "Behave yourself! Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin will be here to escort us in twenty minutes." She had patted his arms and walked out of his embrace. "If Mr. Solo knew how similar your libidos are he would be scandalized!"
"Actually, I think he would be thrilled to know there is romance after seventy, but as you wish."
She shook her head as if to clear it. Right now she was dancing with the man her husband knew as Professor Cecil Barrington of Oxford, but she knew him as someone else. Someone despicable.
When Alexander had walked her over to introduce Cecil to her, his back had been to them. After a moment, he had turned and shaken Alexander's hand vigorously with a large smile upon his face, obviously glad to see him there. When Cecil turned to her and asked, "Is this the lovely Elizabeth I have heard so much about lo, these many years?" she had thought there was something familiar about his voice. When he took her hand in his and kissed it gallantly, his eyes met hers and the memories came flooding back.
She paled so visibly that both Cecil and Alexander asked, "Are you alright?"
She recovered enough to gasp, "I need some air, maybe some water." Her eyes flicked around and happened upon Mr. Kuryakin who was watching discretely from a distance. The look on her face brought him to her side. "Mr. Kuryakin will assist me, won't you, dear?"
"Of course. How may I help?"
Mr. Waverly asked, "Are you sure you don't want to just leave?"
She smiled at him and answered, "Nonsense! We've only just arrived. Please, speak with Cecil and I will be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." She crooked her arm and the Russian threaded his arm through.
He looked at Mr. Waverly. "I will take good care of her, Sir," he avowed before allowing her to lead him toward a balcony. When they were outside he asked, "Would you like me to bring you some water?"
She glanced over her shoulder at the room and said, "No, thank you. I know you have not had the easiest life. Let me ask you, Mr. Kuryakin, Illya: If you saw someone from your past who had done a great wrong, not to you, but a great wrong you witnessed, what would you do?"
Illya was not a tall man, but Mrs. Waverly was not a tall woman. He looked down into her face, one he dared think of as grandmotherly, with concern. "Does this have something to do with Mr. Waverly's friend?"
"Indeed it does. Alexander has known Cecil since he was a young man and has always spoken highly of him. However, when I was a little girl, that man had a different name, but I know it is the same man. What I do not know, my dear, is: Has that man changed? Everything Alexander has ever told me about Cecil has been exemplary. If he has truly amended his ways, do I have the right to judge him and cause others to do the same?"
"I do not know, Mrs. Waverly. Do you?"
She sighed. "You are not being fair, young man. You never answered my question. What would you do?"
The Russian let his face harden as he gazed at her. "If you are asking if I would kill to right a wrong that is decades old, the answer is yes. If you are asking if I would kill to right a wrong for you, again the answer is yes."
"Just like that? No questions asked?"
He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. "For you, Mrs. Waverly, I would do this. You need only ask me."
She pulled gently on his arm to make him lean down. She kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear, "Bless you, Dear Boy, and thank you. You have helped me decide what to do. Let's go back inside before Alexander begins to worry."
Illya led her back inside just as the orchestra began to play. "Alexander, I'm sorry I had to step away. Do you mind if I dance with Cecil?"
Mr. Waverly smiled as he took her hand and placed it in Cecil's. "Of course not, my dear. Enjoy yourselves. Mr. Kuryakin, let's go find your partner before he's accidentally seduces someone, shall we?"
Elizabeth allowed Cecil to guide her to the dance floor and hold her close. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, "My husband and the world may know you as Cecil Barrington, but I know it is you, Barrington Smythe, and I know what you did in Manchester in 1932."
"Ma, ma, madam," he stuttered, "you have mistaken me…"
"Spare me, Barrington!" she hissed, "I know who you are and I know what you did. I saw it with my own two eyes. As far as I'm concerned, this career at Oxford has all been a pack of lies."
"There was no one there! I didn't see…"
"Oh, I was there," she interrupted, "In the shadows where you couldn't see. Listen closely. My husband, who I would die for, cares greatly for you and it would devastate him to find out what I know you did. So, I will not tell him."
"Oh, thank you, Elizabeth! Thank you. I assure you; I am not the same man that you saw all those years ago."
"Don't thank me; I am not doing this for you. Understand this, 'Cecil,' if you do anything to destroy my husband's faith in you, well…Let's just say I have resources you do not want me to unleash upon you."
"I understand," Cecil replied, chastened. The music ended and he walked her back to her husband. "Here she is, Old Man, none the worse for wear."
Another song started to play and Elizabeth said, "I love this melody, Alexander, let's dance."
Against the wall, Illya Kuryakin and Napoleon Solo watched as their superior and his wife tripped the light fantastic. "You and Mrs. Waverly seemed to be having a serious conversation on the balcony. Care to share?"
Illya cut his eyes at his partner and took a sip of his drink. "No."
