Suitors and Sabotage(14)



“I’m quite certain they were. Nothing can diminish that. It was the interpretation that was askew.”

“Oh, Imogene, when I think on it clearly, Benjamin paid heed to you, as well. How uncomfortable you must have been.”

“In what way?”

“To think that Ernest’s brother was trifling with you. You must have wanted to melt into the floor.”

Imogene snorted a laugh. “Actually, I find Ben such easy company that I have not wanted to melt in some hours. I was not embarrassed.” It was true enough; she had been puzzled and anxious but not embarrassed.

“Still, what a fine kettle of fish that would have been. Thank the heavens your father did not notice. He would have been furious. Only a firstborn with a sizable income for you.”

“Ernest Steeple’s inheritance matters little to me, Emily. If I never feel my heart race when our eyes meet, then no matter what my father demands, I will not marry Ernest.”

A sharp rap sounded on the door just before it opened to admit Emily’s personal maid. The young woman stepped across the threshold with a broad grin, closing the door behind her. “My gracious. Look at the Friday-faces. Whatever has brought my girls down?” Kate bobbed her brows up and down and offered a cheeky look. “Trouble with the gentlemen?”

As Kate advanced into the room, her expression faded into bewilderment. She was close in age, with straight dark hair—firmly secured in a cap—and an elfin face. Her position as Emily’s personal maid was a new one, having only just been elevated from housemaid before the Season started. Whenever Emily and Imogene were together, Kate helped them both. Mrs. Chively thought it frivolous but did not interfere.

Emily nodded. “Trouble indeed, Kate. I thought Mr. Benjamin had singled me out. His gaze was so penetrating it made me breathless, but Imogene cautioned, and rightly so, that Mr. Benjamin is generous with his attention, that she, Pauline, and even Harriet were the beneficiaries of the same.” Emily sighed again.

“Ah, a ladies’ man.” Kate pulled Emily to her feet and turned her around so that she could reach the buttons that ran down Emily’s back. “If only there were more of them in the world … Nothing compares to the teasing of a ladies’ man. Charmers … through and through. Makes you want to float away.”

“Kate! You know of … charmers?” Imogene sat up straighter.

Emily turned, making it impossible for Kate to continue working on her buttons.

Kate laughed. “My experience is by way of three brothers and their friends. You learn a thing or two when they are pulling at your hair. The charmers get away with it.”

“This is marvelous.” Emily’s eyes were full of excitement again. “Kate, tell me what to do?”

“Do?”

“Yes, I … well, I am quite taken with Mr. Benjamin. I would like to encourage mutual interest, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh yes, indeed. I do.” Kate nodded. “You must learn to flirt.”

“Yes, exactly.” Emily’s expression was once again full of hope and anticipation. “Tell me. Tell me.”

Still sitting on the bed, Imogene listened to Kate’s advice to Emily. She laughed when Kate took Emily’s fan and showed her how to bat her eyes across it, use it to tap lightly on an arm or shoulder, and snap it to garner attention.

“Sashay, Emily,” Imogene suggested as her friend sauntered across the floor. “A little more sway,” she said as they dissolved into a fit of giggles.

It was all quite amusing, and yet a touch of melancholy stole its way into Imogene’s high spirits. She preferred not to examine the cause too closely. It was good to know that Ben had not singled her out for romantic attention as she had feared. He had simply been true to his character: friendly, kind, and beguiling. He was a charmer. A very good match for Emily.

Directing her thoughts to Ernest, Imogene recalled the gentleness of his smile and his calm manner. The memory was pleasant, but it did not make her heart race.… Still, there was time.

With a sigh, Imogene reached around to unclasp her necklace. She wound the chain around the topaz pendant and closed her fist around it, concentrating on the feel of the cold stone.

*

THE NEXT MORNING, Ben stepped into an empty dining room with a grumbling belly. He had been up early to visit the castle and speak to Mr. Opine about the repairs, and now he was quite prepared to break his fast. The other gentlemen were already up and away. Mr. Chively felt that dawn was the most productive time to fish, and he had dragged Ernest and Mr. Beeswanger along with him. Ben’s reprieve was born from his agreement to see to the ruined ruins.

A generous breakfast had been laid out on the sideboard, enticing him with the delectable aromas of ham and fresh breads. Though there didn’t seem to be a pot of coffee or …

“Oh.”

Ben turned with surprise, in time to see Miss Imogene enter the dining room and then take a half step back, straddling the threshold into the hallway.

“Ah, Miss Imogene,” he said, placing his half-filled plate on the table and then executing a formal bow of his head. “How are you this morning? Up early?” He smiled and was pleased to see a like expression spread across her face as she stepped farther into the room.

“I am well.” She winced as though some thought of an unpleasant nature had flitted through her mind, and dropped her eyes to the floor. “Thank you.” Her voice was slightly muffled. “I believe the other ladies are keeping town hours.”

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