Suitors and Sabotage(48)
Ernest had countered that it was not uncommon for families as close as the Chivelys and Tabards to add other guests to a country visit without the host making a personal solicitation. And while true enough in general, Ben was fairly certain such was not the case here.
Ben had also argued against the idea of hopping into the saddle and heading west once again. He knew that Imogene had asked for a delay and thought it ill-advised for Ernest to hover at her elbow … waiting and watching. It was likely to make her nervous; it would make anyone nervous. And thereby do more damage. Ben thought a month or so of eloquent letters would have done his brother greater service—but Ernest would not listen. He had to see her, be with her, look into her lovely eyes, and bask in her smile.
It all made Ben quite green, and he refused to join Ernest in his folly.
There was nothing his brother could say that would entice Ben back into Imogene’s presence … though he had not worded it quite that way. Bored. Tired of gadding about. Needed to focus on his art. Spend more time at Musson House before returning to Canterbury. He thought up an overabundance of excuses. Ernest shot each and every one down. His brother’s ability to debate was remarkable—he should take up politics and stop coercing his younger brother. It was outside of enough!
Then Ernest simply said that he needed Ben’s support.
With a heavy sigh—very heavy—Ben relented. He could sustain no justification against that, short of the truth. And Ben had no intention of ever telling Ernest why he did not want to be around Imogene. There were not many secrets between them, but this confidence was for all time.
And so, here he was once again, smiling and laughing and acting the nonchalance he did not feel as the younger members of the company greeted him with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Parents were conspicuously absent. He was acutely aware of Imogene: her lovely, shy smile; her beguiling fragrance; her tinkling laughter; her intoxicating curves that took his breath away; her swaying walk that made his mouth dry; her enticing … With a shake of his head, Ben rubbed at his temple and then acknowledged Jake’s imperial greeting.
“Thank you, yes, the journey was not overly taxing. Though it does look like rain. Yes indeed, rain. Gray clouds … and all that.” Ben studiously ignored Imogene and his brother’s quizzical glance at his vacuous speech. He could hardly think straight standing in such close proximity to Imogene.
Returning his gaze to Jake, Ben frowned. There was something odd about him, something that did not quite fit with his character.… But Ben was hard-pressed to say exactly what it was. Had Jake styled his hair differently?
“Hospitable, yes, a gentleman is hospitable, right?” Jake turned to look at Emily, who nodded rather vigorously. “Fine. Let me see … ah. Well … please, join us in the morning room,” Jake suggested with a grand sweep of his arm. “I’ll ask Mrs. Thompson to make up a room while you wait. You were not expected, you see. Only just learned that Mr. Chively had taken it upon himself to extend an invitation. Well, this is not Gracebridge … nor is it Shackleford, for that matter. It is likely that you will have to double up. Best we can do under the circumstances. Puts the numbers off complete—”
“Ahem.” Emily cleared her throat, interrupting Jake. She shook her head as well.
Jake scowled. “Lawks, this is not as easy as it looks.” His words were thought to be quite humorous by the rest of those standing nearby.
There was no arguing that their arrival was untoward … and that this was not Shackleford. Greytower was much older and smaller—perhaps as much as a quarter the size. The entrance hall was dark, paneled, and only one story. Ben could see a dining hall off to his right, but it was near impossible to see into the rooms on either side of the large staircase to his left.
“You speak to Mrs. Thompson,” Emily instructed Jake. “We’ll return to the morning room.” At which point, she pivoted and led the way to the room to the left of the staircase.
Harriet and Pauline followed them in, but an echo reverberating down the staircase brought them to a halt just inside the door. “Girls? Where are you? Lesson time.”
Pauline curled up the corner of her mouth, Harriet huffed, and yet they both quickly marched out the door and up the stairs. Unfortunately, that left Percy, Emily, Imogene, Ernest, and Ben to attempt a civil conversation.
“You need not have come, you know.” Percy flopped into a chair, leaning back in an excessively casual manner that fooled no one. “Father might have invited you, but … well, you are not really welcome.”
Apparently civility was hard to come by for some.
“Percy!” Imogene and Emily expressed their horror in the same tone and wide eyes.
“Please ignore any unrefined attitudes that might be floating about.” Emily stepped to the sideboard, lifting a silver urn. “Chocolate?”
“Ben prefers coffee,” Imogene answered for him. “And I believe Ernest does as well.”
Emily nodded, switching pots and pouring. “I, for one, greatly appreciate Mr. Chively’s initiative.” She offered Ben a come-hither grin with his coffee. “And your perfectly timed arrival, for we were just at the point of deciding on our entertainment for the day.”
A loud clap of thunder shook the Hall. The patter of rain on the glass quickly changed from charming to alarming while a blustery wind rattled and pulled at the windows.