Suitors and Sabotage(32)
“Yes, actually. I think that would do much better than the one in the billiard room. And a corner of the chimneypiece in the library rather than the whole. I’m not sure that Ben is quite up to the entire piece yet.… And we don’t want him frustrated.”
Imogene smiled at Emily to show her appreciation for her friend’s careful consideration of subject matter. It was apparent that she had spent a great deal of time considering Ben’s artistic needs. But Emily had already turned away and was watching the drive again.
“What’s that? Oh yes … I see … I see … Bother. I believe it is one of Papa’s deer. They are always munching on the hosta. Most inconsiderate.” She sighed and turned back to Imogene. “So there we have four projects for Benjamin to sketch.”
“Five, actually, if you include the newel post of the backstairs. Well done. Simple enough but excellent practice—very practical examples of architecture. This is more to his purpose.”
“As to the medallion in the great hall—Oh, horses. Yes, look. A carriage. It’s them. I know it’s them.” Emily made as if to desert the window and rush to the front door, but a movement outside caught her eye. “Oh, Percy has seen them as well. And he’s waving with great enthusiasm. Dear me. He is too pleased. It has to be the Tabards. Only—”
“Jake. Yes, only Jake would get such a greeting from my brother.” Imogene sighed, as did Emily, and they laughed at each other’s foolishness. Imogene watched as Emily turned back to the window to verify that the carriage did indeed disgorge the Tabards.
Sighing again, though silently this time, Imogene observed that the passage of time was a boon for those whose sensibilities had been clouded by unformed emotions. A fortnight had proved to be just the right span of time for her to set her thoughts to rights—to realize that her attraction to Ben was fleeting. It was born from a misinterpretation of his charm. She had been interested in him merely as a result of believing he had been interested in her. When he hadn’t been … interested.
Ben was his own man. Enjoying the company of others … not Imogene in particular. That was as it should be—for Ernest was the gentleman Imogene should consider. And she had. Ernest had so many stellar qualities that Imogene had made a list of them … a list she repeated every time her traitorous thoughts veered toward Ben.
Ben Steeple was not for her. Any attachment he formed, if he formed an attachment, would be toward Emily. They were better suited by far, both being in possession of outgoing characters, both enjoying opportunities to laugh, and both finding life an adventure.
Ernest was quiet, as was Imogene. He thought before he spoke, and he was not impulsive. Imogene had even detected a slight shyness in his manner. Yes, they were much more suited to each other. Peas in a pod.
Imogene sighed.
“Oh, look!” Emily fairly shouted. “Two riders and a cart.” Her gaze was focused at the far end of the drive, past the opulent flower beds and the manicured lawn.
Yes, indeed. Two large black horses with tall, broad-shouldered riders were approaching at an easy trot, followed by a pony cart. It would seem that the Steeple brothers had, at last, found their way to Shackleford Park.
Imogene joined Emily in a rush to the door. Though they exited the manor with decorum and grace, of course.
*
PULLING HIS HORSE to a stop behind the Tabard carriage, Ben alit and passed the reins to a waiting groom. He was greeting Mr. Tabard when the front door of the manor opened to let loose two excited and squealing girls. Ernest’s horse shied and stepped back. Ernest quickly brought it under control and dropped to the ground, passing his reins as well.
“Hello, ladies.” Ben bowed deeply to Pauline and Hardly Harriet. Their enthusiasm was artless and delightful. Never before had Ben and Ernest been beneficiaries of such a reception. Even at Musson House, where their grandparents were usually pleased by their return, the greetings were unexceptional. “It has been such a long time. Harriet, I believe you have grown.”
“Silly. It’s been only a fortnight.” Harriet grinned her reply. “I haven’t grown a bit.”
“Welcome to Shackleford Park,” a voice drifted from above.
Ben lifted his eyes to find Emily standing regally on the top step, resplendent in a pastel green gown with frilly things along her hem. On her right was an equally lovely Imogene, in mauve, with lace covering her … above her bodice. Both young ladies looked the epitome of sedate modesty, both smiled benignly. Imogene’s smile hinted of reserve, while Emily’s hinted of mischief.
“Thank you,” Ben and Ernest said at the same time, and they all laughed.
Ben turned briefly to see Mr. Tabard looking at him with curiosity, while Percy and Jake simply nodded and took themselves off.
“Come inside,” Emily said grandly. “All has been prepared.” She gestured first to Mr. Tabard and then to Ernest, allowing his brother to follow Imogene. The girls ignored protocol and pushed ahead, giggling all the while.
Ben watched the company enter the manor from where he stood. Just before stepping across the threshold, Imogene turned to look over her shoulder, and she smiled. This was a true smile, an unselfconscious smile—one that offered a continued friendship. One that Ben was very glad to see.
“Benjamin?” Emily queried, likely puzzled by his inattention and lack of movement.