Page 54 of With Love in Sight
Dinner had gone splendidly. Never had she been surrounded by so much gaiety at a meal before. Everyone laughed and joked, with none of the separation of status that was so apparent in London. Even when they had invited local families to dine with them at Hillview Manor, there had been a pronounced hierarchy. Imogen found that, though meeting new people and conversing in large groups was something she avoided at all costs, she could not help but enjoy herself.
She was achingly aware that Caleb watched her closely throughout the night. He knew her feelings on socializing. And with the informal seating, he made certain to sit by her side at supper. Imogen tried to feel annoyed at his hovering, but found she was oddly touched at his sensitivity to her preferences.
Trying to banish the small hitch in her breathing every time his gaze landed on her, she ignored him as best she could. Mr. Daniel Mottram was seated on her right, and was engaging as well as funny. But she was drawn again and again to Caleb at her left. He’d brought forth his town persona for tonight. But it did not feel forced, as it sometimes did, and as it had ever since they had arrived at Willowhaven. He charmed everyone in the room; seemed to genuinely like them all; and it was clear that the two visiting families held him in the highest esteem.
When the time came to retire to the formal drawing room for dancing, however, Imogen found herself nearly paralyzed with fear. She had succeeded in putting the coming event from her mind, but now that it was here she was overwhelmed with anxiety. The gentlemen had eschewed staying at the table and imbibing in the traditional after-dinner drink, instead joining the ladies as they exited. Imogen watched them all go, unable to follow for fear her suddenly trembling legs would give out.
Caleb was at her side in an instant, reaching for her cold hand. He secured her arm through his own, and she felt a modicum of sanity return. She could not lose face now, not when she had purposely crossed him in the matter of this party.
He leaned down close to her ear. “Are you certain, Imogen?”
“Of course.”
He raised one copper eyebrow before leading her forward.
And now here they were, collected before her. All the young people, with the exception of Lady Emily, who had stationed herself at the pianoforte, were standing about. Daphne had paired everyone off in her energetic fashion and directed their eyes to Imogen at the top of the room.
Caleb had not left her side. She glanced up at him, taking a measure of strength from his calm demeanor. Imogen cleared her throat nervously and adjusted her spectacles. Perhaps if she could imagine she was helping her younger siblings out, as she had so often done back at home.
With that in mind, she plowed on, her voice faint at first but growing in strength as she talked. “The Andrew Carey is done with a fleuret step, with three equal steps and a plié, and then repeated. You’ll be gliding, not skipping. We’ll do it with four beats, as it is easier to follow.”
She began to hum the tune, surprised and relieved as Caleb’s baritone joined hers. She gave him a grateful smile, which he returned with an encouraging one of his own, and they started to move. She slowed in certain sections, explaining the other couples’ parts in the movements. When they had got through the dance, the others began talking excitedly.
“Let’s give it a go, shall we?” Daphne said over the din. She grabbed her cousin Christopher’s hand, shoving him into the proper position across from her. The others followed until they were in a line down the center of the room.
Imogen was prepared to hum again when the sound of the pianoforte started up, copying the melody she and Caleb had been singing perfectly. She looked over to the corner and saw Lady Emily at the keys. Imogen smiled broadly at the other girl, and was heartened when she received a tentative one in return.
She turned back to the assembled dancers. She and Caleb began to move into the steps, the others following their lead. She gave instructions as they went, telling each couple how to weave about the other when it was their turn. There was much stumbling at first, with giggles and raucous laughter all around. Toward the end it seemed everyone had begun to catch on to the steps. They attempted the dance once again, this time with much more grace and success.
When the music came to a stop, everyone broke into enthusiastic applause. Imogen felt flushed and mussed, and yet when she looked up into Caleb’s laughing, admiring eyes, she felt a burst of true happiness.
Daphne took the lead then, much to Imogen’s relief. She chose several more dances, of which the party was more than eager to perform. Everyone paired off in a casual manner, exchanging partners with a relaxing ease. First Imogen was pulled into a cotillion with Mr. Daniel Mottram, followed by a quadrille with the very young but very charming Mr. Gabriel Sanders. Mr. Christopher Mottram, with his laughing blue eyes, was next to claim her for a stately minuet. The elder members of the party were unable to keep away when a good, energetic Scottish reel was brought forth.
Imogen laughed along with the rest of the young people. Seeing her father paired off with jolly Mrs. Sanders, his legs cutting through the air as he moved in a way she had never seen before, was a sight indeed, and by the time the older people dropped with inelegant gaiety back into their seats and the younger partygoers took control of the floor again, she felt she had never been part of such a wonderful night in her life. Erased were the memories of the London balls she had attended, sitting at the edge of the room and watching the elegance of the attendees as they paraded before her. In its place was this, an evening of fun as she had never known, with people who did not treat her as if she were a pariah, but welcomed her.
Laughing, she turned to claim her next partner in the revelries. The laughter died on her lips, however, when her nose nearly collided with a starched white cravat. She needn’t look up to know who it belonged to. Only one man in the party was as tall as he, only one with shoulders so wide or dress so elegant.
But look up she did. The expression in Caleb’s pewter eyes almost undid her. There was a softness there, an admiration that was altogether new. He looked as if he’d never seen her before now.
He held out his hand, and wordlessly Imogen took it, unable to tear her gaze from his. It was only after she gripped tightly to his fingers that she realized Lady Emily had changed the tone of the music. A gentle melody poured forth from the keys, and too late, she found herself pulled into Caleb’s arms as a waltz played.
Only once had she danced the waltz with Caleb, the night he had pulled her off to his room and made love to her. It came back to her now in a rush. Her skin was suddenly feverish and sensitive. His hand at her back burned through the thin gown, the fingers of his other hand wrapped possessively around her own. Kate had outdone herself with this evening’s dress choice, for the bodice of Imogen’s gown had been altered lower than anything she had ever worn. The tops of her breasts were pushed up over the cream-colored silk of the dress, and the evening air along with the feel of the sleek material on her skin were making her feel decidedly inflamed.
But affecting her more than the daring dress, more than her memories of their one night together, was Caleb in the flesh before her. His eyes were on her now, the heat in them unmistakable. And, God help her, she could no more look away from them than stop breathing.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to; his expression said everything. He wanted her. She felt herself swaying closer as he swung her about and around the others. His hand pressed into the small of her back, drawing her a fraction closer than was proper. Her breathing sped up as his gaze fastened on her mouth. She tilted her head up a bit more, swept along in the music and him, forgetting that they were surrounded by others.
“Imogen,” he whispered.
The music stopped then, the couples around them breaking apart and applauding. A second too late, Imogen realized just where she was. She quickly tore free from Caleb’s arms, backing up a good distance and applauding with the others. She had been lost in him, and in a room full of people. Her face was hot as she glanced surreptitiously about, wondering if anyone had seen. Everyone was busy conversing. All but Lady Emily, who looked at her with a strange curiosity before turning quickly away.
The party broke up soon after, Sir Alexander declaring he felt in his bones they were due for a storm and that he wanted to make the trip back home before it broke. Imogen stood with Caleb and his family as the guests departed, waving her goodbyes along with the rest.
With a vividness that took the very breath from her body, she pictured herself standing here in years to come at Caleb’s side. And she found she wanted it. With every fiber of her being, she wanted it. Without meaning to, she let out a sharp breath.
“Imogen, what is it?”
She looked up, dazed, into Caleb’s face. He cared for her; there was no doubt as to that. Did it really matter that he did not love her as she loved him? Couldn’t they somehow make things work, despite the difference in their feelings?
