Suitors and Sabotage(80)
Kind Regards,
Mother
PS: Jasper is being a nuisance; he got into the henhouse yesterday. I’m sure he will be happier with you.
When Imogene rushed to the stables, Jasper’s happiness was not in doubt. As soon as he saw Imogene, he put on such a display of enthusiasm that it outshone all his other greetings. Never had she seen him jump so high or wag his tail with such abandon. Eventually he calmed … until he saw Emily and repeated his demonstration of undying affection.
After much laughter and excitement, the practicalities of their reunion had to be addressed—the most significant being the question of where Jasper was to be housed. The stable hands were quite taken with him and allowed that they could keep an eye on the dog if need be, but Mrs. Beeswanger had another suggestion.
“There is no need to relegate your companion to the outdoors. Bring him inside. I’m sure he will be more content following you around the manor.”
“Pardon? Inside? You will allow Jasper to stay with me?” Imogene could hardly believe her ears. Her mother would never consider such a thing.
“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Beeswanger said with a gasp as two proper young ladies threw themselves into her arms. “All I ask is that he not be underfoot in the dining room.”
Of course Imogene readily agreed.
*
SITTING ON THE side of the bed only half listening to Kate exclaim about this item or that as she pulled them out of the trunk and put them in the wardrobe, Imogene stared out the window, distracted by thoughts that had nothing to do with her self-absorbed family. She missed Ben terribly.
She reached down to the floor where Jasper had curled up at … well, actually, on … her feet. Scratching him behind his ears in an absentminded fashion, she sighed.
Scene after scene ran through her mind: snippets of conversations, recrimination, and self-castigation followed quickly and then a sense of embarrassment. There was much she wished she had said, and much she wished she could unsay. Should she have been brazen and told him that she held him in great affection, or had she saved herself from mortification by offering a casual good-bye? How much of his interest had been in her imagination? How much had been real? Queries … many queries, but there would be no answers … just time to help her forget.
“Good news, Imogene,” Emily said, bursting into the room. “There are two spaces that Mama and Papa think might suit for your temporary studio. Both are in the attics just like the one you had at Gracebridge. One is a tad small, next to the female staff bedrooms, but it does have good light and is easily accessed from the main staircase. The other is on the opposite side—Imogene? Are you not pleased?”
Imogene blinked, realizing that she was still staring at Jasper. She lifted her eyes and then her cheeks. “Oh yes. Certainly. That is wonderful. Your parents are most generous.”
Generous was such a mild description of the Beeswangers’ support. They were unreservedly behind Imogene’s enterprise—the eventual forming of an art academy. They had discussed the project every which way to Sunday. It had been her salvation—her distraction from the pain of losing Ben.
It was not going to be the work of a minute; it would take years of careful, patient labor. She would start with a teaching studio at Shackleford while they sought out a more strategic location. The funds from her grandmother would help defray supply costs, but were it not for Mr. Beeswanger’s agreement to act as an advisor and patron, Imogene’s dreams would not be realized until far in the future. Yes, generous was too small a word.
Emily joined her on the bed, bouncing Imogene gently as she sat down. “Oh, Imogene, I am so sorry about your family—they are the ones to miss out … being without your company. You know that Mama and Papa would be quite pleased to have you stay indefinitely.”
Nodding, Imogene patted Emily’s lower limb. “Yes. They have said as much, and I believe they mean it.” She smiled but, unfortunately, sighed at the same time.
“Then what is wrong? What can I do? Say? I am desperate to see you happy.”
“Broken hearts take time to heal, Miss Emily,” Kate said as she folded a cream-and-apricot scarf. “Everyone is different.”
“Mine mended easily enough. I can only think I wasn’t as deeply in love as I thought. I am quite up to scratch again. And yours will…? No, that’s not it. You turned down Ernest.”
“Not Mr. Ernest, miss.” Kate glanced over her shoulder. “Mr. Ben. Though, being that he was over the moon about you, Miss Imogene, I don’t understand why it didn’t work out … if you’ll excuse me for saying so.”
Imogene stilled. She lifted her chin and offered a frown to Emily before addressing Kate. “What do you mean, Kate? Why would you say that about Ben?”
“At Musson, Matt told me he were certain Mr. Ben cared for you, Miss Imogene. Had Mr. Ernest not been so distracted, he woulda seen it, too.”
“Who is Matt?” Emily asked; her color was getting higher.
“The Steeple valet.” Kate lifted one corner of her mouth. “Quite a nice fella.” She turned back, dipping into the trunk for another piece of clothing. “There was no mistaking it, he said.”
Imogene closed her eyes and swallowed, breathing in a gulp. “It wasn’t my imagination,” she whispered with a half smile. “And I told him not to call.” She hung her head and closed her eyes.