Suitors and Sabotage(66)
No. Ben had shown a side of himself that Imogene hoped never to see again—an angry, unreasonable side. Still, she prayed that this horrible aspect of his nature would not interfere with his ability to think clearly—that he would be watchful, aware of anyone intending harm. Be it his brother or not.
Ernest seemed aware that a barrier had formed—a wall of hostility—but other than look apologetic at both parties and talk far more than was his norm, Ernest was of little help. It was fortunate that Imogene’s shy and quiet nature was expected to resurface with a change of surroundings; the dinner and evening conversations went on around her without causing any insult or concern. The occasional comment was tossed her way, and then attention returned to those actually participating in the discourse. While nothing was said directly, Father and Lady Steeple constantly inferred that Ernest’s and Imogene’s futures were entwined.
It was not a comfortable meal.
The night was long. Though the bed was comfortable, the unusual squeaks and thumps of a foreign household kept Imogene awake. It had nothing to do with a broken heart and wishing herself a hundred miles away. Her only reprieve was in knowing that Emily would arrive on the morrow and with her a conversation that might help shed light on what had happened. A different perspective might be of benefit.… Might.
As Musson House did not keep town hours, Imogene arrived the next morning to a bustling dining room. Mother and Lady Steeple were in deep conversation about the importance of lace while finishing their toast and jam. They looked up, made a smiling comment about the tardiness of the young, and returned to their conversation. Had Ernest truly been her heart’s desire, Imogene would have been pleased to see how well the two ladies related to each other. As it was, it only added another crack to the floor eroding under her feet.
Sir Steeple sat at the opposite end of the table with Father, Ernest, and Ben. Percy was nowhere to be seen. At least she was not the last one down. The gentlemen’s conversation seemed to be about a beach and the wonders of rock collecting. They offered her more than the ladies had done, a cheerful “hallo” and an inquiry if she had slept well. Imogene assured Sir Steeple that she had, hoping he did not notice the dark circles under her eyes that proved her words to be a lie.
Sitting with the ladies, Imogene found she was much more interested in the conversation at the other end of the table. When Ernest mentioned a ruin, curiosity overcame her wretchedness.
“Is it far?” Imogene asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard. She didn’t have to shout; the room was generous, accommodating a table that seated twenty or more, but it had been well designed—sound carried. A fleeting thought that Ben might add such a room to his designs was summarily dismissed as unwanted. She kept her eyes on Ernest, not allowing them to wander about on their own.
“Not far in distance,” Ernest explained. “But requiring the use of a boat. You can see it from the beach, but only the tip of the tower peeks above the trees. If it is something you wish to sketch, we can make arrangements to visit. I know ruins are one of your favorite subjects.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.” Imogene smiled sincerely for the first time in many, many hours. Drawing a ruin would be a great distraction; she could lose herself in a sketch. It would give her aching heart a much-needed respite and ease her troubled thoughts away from Ben.
“It is a favorite haunt of Ben’s, too. Perhaps Emily would be interested, and we can make a day of it. Four can easily fit in the skiff with a food basket.”
Imogene’s smile remained in place but lost its luster. Not away from Ben, then. She stifled a sigh.
“Seas might be a bit rough today.” Sir Steeple glanced toward the tall windows despite their view of the gardens and not the nearby channel. “Winds are up, means the waves will be high. Best wait for a day when the clouds aren’t as low, too. Don’t want to be marooned on a foggy island.”
“No, indeed,” Ernest agreed, looking at Imogene with what appeared to be a twinkle in his eye. “It would be a disaster. Marooned on an island with two lovely ladies. Who would wish that upon us?”
Ben snorted in derision. Imogene kept her gaze firmly on Ernest.
*
AT THE BACK of the manor, collected in an elegant room of blues and yellows on the second floor, the company was deaf to any sounds of arriving guests. Imogene had no knowledge that the Tabards had made an appearance until Jake walked under the gilt transom of the drawing room door. Percy, too, was in ignorance, because his greeting was louder and higher pitched than was his usual.
Once again, Jake outshone the company. Though wearing countrified fashion this time, there was no doubt that his coat was of a fine quality and expertly tailored. Even his father, following on Jake’s heels, did not cut the same figure as his son. Wrinkled in face and coat, Mr. Tabard made up for it with his smooth smile.
“Well met,” he said as Lady and Sir Steeple stepped forward to offer an effusive welcome.
There was far less pomp and ceremony than there had been the day before. Recognizing why that would be, Imogene turned back to her book with an uncomfortable churn in her belly … and then, after having read the same passage twice without comprehension, she stared out the window. She caught Ernest watching her from the corner of her eye but did not turn; she couldn’t give him the reassuring smile he wanted. She did not have the fortitude.
Sometime later the scene was replayed. Only this time it was Imogene who squealed with delight at the new arrivals. The Beeswangers sans Pauline, Harriet, and Miss Watson had found their way to Chotsdown. Imogene stood to greet Emily after the Steeples had done so, but she was stymied in the intent to pull her friend into her corner. Someone else leaped into the fray. Someone else took Emily’s hands and declared her arrival to be the most wondrous of all possible happenings. Someone else made it perfectly clear that Emily needed to sit right beside him.