Suitors and Sabotage(68)
“They have been gone close to five years now.” And then he added, as if compelled, “Their letters say little, though it is clear that they are utterly caught up in their Tuscan life, where they have taken a villa. It must suit their needs, for there is no talk of returning anytime soon.”
Lifting her eyes away from the expertly rendered cloth, Imogene was surprised to note Ernest’s brooding expression. Aware of her scrutiny, he turned to offer her a mollifying wink. “Perhaps a wedding will do the trick.”
Taken aback by the sudden change of subject and mood, Imogene opened her mouth to deny that possibility when she overheard Emily’s words from the other side of the room.
“Benjamin, I believe we have to discuss these incidents you keep experiencing. Imogene and I have been talking—”
“No, no we don’t. It is not a subject in which I am interested.” Ben’s tone was forbidding. “Accidents and incidentals all. There is no need to let them ruin a perfectly equitable rainy afternoon. Come, I must show you this Francesco Guardi painting.”
Realizing that Ernest was still locked in her gaze, Imogene blinked. His next words made plain that they had both been guilty of eavesdropping. “A subject not worthy of our time or concern, Imogene. All is well. Fear not, worry not. Nothing is amiss.”
Imogene did not appreciate the slight patronizing tone of this denial of reality and thought it foolhardy in the extreme. It was disturbing as much for the fact that Ben was having a perilous summer as it was that if they never discussed the reasons or culprit of these accidents, then the misunderstanding between them could not be put to rights.
*
IT SEEMED CLEAR to Imogene that Ben and Ernest had made some sort of pact. Any time Emily or Imogene approached the subject of a dubious character who might be party to the odd happenings, one or the other interrupted and changed the subject. Finally, Emily shrugged her submission to Imogene and gave up the attempt. Upon returning to the drawing room, Emily whispered that she would stay close to Benjamin’s side … in the interest of his safety, of course. She would be his guardian. Imogene didn’t think Emily would find it a hardship.
It also suited Ben’s mood, as he seemed quite determined to lavish Emily with attention, ignoring Imogene. Their camaraderie was gone. She didn’t even have the opportunity of an art lesson to make amends for—forgetting that he had demanded secrecy at the onset of their classes—Ben declared before all that Imogene was such an accomplished teacher that he was now capable of guiding his own path. There would be no quiet tête-à-tête to smooth over the whole.
Probably just as well.
Better to think of him as an unreasonable, self-centered sot with a terrible temper who jumped to conclusions rather than a kindred spirit who, under different circumstances, would have made an excellent companion through life. Not to mention the possessor of expressive eyes, a physique that made her mouth dry, and a mouth that looked to fit hers perfectly.
No, best not turn her thoughts in that direction at all. As soon as she turned down his brother’s offer of marriage, Ben would be exceptionally happy to see the back of her. The holiday would be cut short, and she would never see either of the Steeple boys again … unless Emily and Ben … No, it didn’t bear thinking about, either.
Dinner did not prove to be the ordeal that Imogene expected. With a full table, it was easy enough to look elsewhere. Her eyes settled on Ben only every few minutes, and he spent the entire time entertaining the group at large—studiously looking around her. His family smiled indulgently, and only Percy glanced her way from time to time with a frown of confusion.
One of the topics that received a fair amount of attention was that of rock collecting … again. It would seem that while Sir Steeple was now unable to walk the beaches in search of treasures himself, he thought that those in the company would find it immensely entertaining. It was not hard to see whence came the obsession to collect.
And so it was decided that, should the weather cooperate, an excursion would be planned for the next day. There was general assent, but Imogene saw the look that passed between Percy and Jake and was fairly certain that rock collecting was not high on their list of amusements. A Midsummer Night’s Dream proved to be more to their taste. They were both greatly enthused when Ernest suggested another rehearsal, and Lady Steeple thought the ballroom might be just the place to do it.
Emily and Imogene smiled at each other—cleverly done. The adults now had the drawing room to themselves, including Sir Steeple’s favorite chair, and the younger generation could be lively without censure. Had Imogene not been carrying around a heavy weight of anxiety and guilt, she might have enjoyed the process.
And so it was that the company made it through another day with no disaster and no threat to Ben’s person. Imogene thought it unwise to let their guard down, and Emily agreed. And yet it was hard to see danger in an elegant ballroom, in a gracious manor where all is calm and full of laughter. Perhaps this being Ben’s home meant that the peril and the perpetrator were no longer in their midst. It was a comforting theory that saw Imogene into her dreams.
*
IT WAS NOT to be wondered that, when the beach walk was organized, several previously enthused guests were no longer inspired to partake in the grand excursion.
“A little too damp for my taste,” Mother complained at breakfast.
“I’m sure the mists will clear, Olivia,” Mrs. Beeswanger said. She had expressed a continuing interest in stepping out and letting the wind blow out her cobwebs. Mr. Beeswanger quite agreed.