Suitors and Sabotage(83)



“Oh?”

“Yes. And he urged me to approach you with the idea of rendering my designs. He thought you would be highly amenable. That was how he put it, highly amenable.”

“Really. Ernest sent you to … me.” Imogene swallowed and blinked rapidly for a moment.

“Yes. Why does that thought upset you, my dove? I thought it a kindness.” He wiped away a tear that had escaped and was sliding down her cheek.

“Yes, it is a great kindness. A very great kindness.” She took a calming breath and reached out to touch Ben’s hand. She did not have to stretch; he was still standing much too close for proper modesty. It was marvelous. “Did Ernest tell you why I was not favorable to his suit?”

“No. I thought your tastes were … that your interests … No. He didn’t say.”

Imogene stared at Ben, reveling in the sight, finding ecstasy in the warmth of his hands and the heat of his gaze. Could she tell him that she loved him? Could she be the one to take the first step? Would she die of mortification if she had misread his fixed gaze? Was Matt wrong? Did it matter?

No. Love was a gift, a compliment. It might not be reciprocated—but what if it was and Ben was simply waiting for a sign from her? After all, she had mistakenly asked him not to call. And if he did not feel the same…? Well … she would survive—not happily, but she would survive. Better to know one way or the other.

Stepping infinitesimally closer, Imogene took a deep breath, clasped both his hands, and opened her heart. “I have never been more terrified in my life than when you were trapped under the water. The thought of losing you was unbearable; I would have gladly traded places. I could hardly contain my joy when you were safe and sound once more.… Ernest realized … he knew … I am in love with you.”

Six words. Imogene had spoken the six words that would change her world—tip it over. She had taken her destiny in hand. For good or ill, the die was cast.

Ben stilled. Imogene wasn’t sure if he was breathing. And then, finally, he spoke. “Indeed?”

It was more of a croak.

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Imogene said, reveling in the freedom wrought by exposing her feelings. She lifted her hand, touching his lips lightly for a moment. They were soft and inviting, and she could think of nothing else other than how it might feel to press his lips to hers. So tantalizingly soft. They lured her closer.

But Ben had not spoken further. She waited for an eon of seconds.

He did not lean away; he did not back away; he did not run from the room screaming. All was well.… Better than well, for the look of astonishment had changed. There was something compelling about the way his eyes dropped to her mouth. Something that made her heart beat at an impossible rate, made her want to wrap her arms around him.

Then he smiled.

And the world righted on its axis.

Leaning toward her, with his eyes glued to her mouth, Ben paused. Imogene could feel his breath on her face; they were within kissing distance … but not touching. She ached with anticipation. Why was he waiting?

“I love you, too,” he said, finally placing his mouth on hers.

Fire shot through Imogene’s veins, and she wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck, standing on her toes, pressing every part of her body against his. His kiss deepened, and the world disappeared. All that existed was the ecstasy of their entangled hearts, minds, and bodies. She hummed in pleasure as Ben kissed his way down her neck and then back up to her mouth.

All too soon, he pulled away, but not far. She was still in his arms, his mouth ready to continue its exploration.

“Should I ask your father or Mr. Beeswanger for your hand in marriage?”

Imogene grinned. “Perhaps you should ask me?”

With a quiet chuckle, Ben shifted his gaze to her eyes. “Imogene, my dove, will you—”

“Yes.” Imogene smothered his words with her mouth. There would be time for talking later.





Glossary

COVERLET: bedcover, such as a bedspread or blanket

HESSIANS: popular style of boot in the nineteenth century, with military origins MANSARD ROOF: a four-sided roof that has two slopes, the lower slope being much steeper than the upper one MORTAR: bonding material for bricks or stones, grout

MULLION: a vertical support that forms a division on a door or window OAST HOUSE: building designed for drying hops, an ingredient used in brewing beer ORIEL WINDOW: a form of bay window that projects from a building but does not reach the ground PILASTER: a rectangular column, often projecting from the wall SNUFFBOX: pocket-size decorated box used to store snuff (finely ground tobacco) TABLEAU: an artistic grouping or scene

TO NO AVAIL: with little success

TRUANT: absentee, away without permission or explanation VISAGE: a person’s face

WOO: to try to gain the love of someone, usually with the intent to marry





Acknowledgments

Under the “no man is an island” category, I would like to express my great appreciation to the many people who helped me take a blank page and turn it into a complete novel.

Thank you to my husband, Mike, for listening to my convoluted plot and helping me find its essence, for offering suggestions, and for bringing some reality to the antics of my characters. Thank you to my amazing beta readers, Christine and Deb; I would be lost without your guidance, patience, and ability to see the bigger picture as well as the tiniest of details.

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