Page 53 of With Love in Sight
Lady Willbridge spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled like a pall on the group. “Daphne comes out next year, and I am quaking in my shoes at the mere thought. It has been many a year since I have been to London. My husband was not fond of city life. To be truthful, I’m not that keen on it myself. And you, Lady Sumner? Do you enjoy time in town?”
The distraction worked, for immediately talk turned to safer subjects. Imogen could only be grateful for it, and though she had gained a deep respect for Caleb’s mother, she now found her heart swelling with affection as well.
Tea and a light repast came then, and when everyone had their fill, Frances suggested a walk in the gardens. The group set out, Imogen making sure she hung back in order to be paired off with her sister. They linked arms and followed slowly after the rest. The sun was warm on their backs, the air smelling heavily of roses and rich earth.
Imogen watched as the others pulled ahead a bit before speaking. “You are well, Frances?”
“Very well.”
And, to Imogen’s surprise, Frances did look well. There was a bit more weight on her and a certain fresh blush to her cheeks. Could it be that things were improving for her sister and her husband?
“I am glad you are here,” Frances continued, squeezing Imogen’s arm and smiling at her. “What a treat this is.”
“I am sad you won’t be able to make it to Lady Willbridge’s dinner party this evening. Can you truly not change your plans?”
Frances gave a small sigh. “I’m afraid not. James has been trying to convince Lord Finch for ages to sell his property to him. It rests against the west fields, and would double the grazing area for our cattle. He has a very limited time in which to meet with the man. It was the reason we returned from Rutland in such haste. No, James will not change his plans, even for a marquess.” She turned to Imogen with a speculative look. “Speaking of which, what was Lord Willbridge’s reason for inviting you and Father to his home? It does seem peculiar.”
Imogen blushed but couldn’t find the words.
“He is devilishly handsome, Imogen,” Frances went on, a slight smile lifting her lips. “Of course, you are looking much improved yourself. That dress is lovely on you. And your hair. I cannot believe the difference it has made.”
Imogen could feel her face grow hotter. “It was not of my doing, I assure you.”
“It is nothing to be overwrought about.” Frances patted her arm comfortingly. “Though I do wonder at the change, especially as I see you are now allowed to wear your spectacles in public. What was that battle like, I wonder.”
Imogen gave a wry smile. “Not pleasant.”
“And now to have captured the attentions of the Marquess of Willbridge? Does he mean to court you?”
Again Imogen could not speak. She knew her sister would take her reticence for the answer it was.
They walked on in silence for a time, and Imogen allowed her gaze to rest on Caleb. Daphne’s arm was tucked into his, and he responded to something that Lord Sumner was saying. He looked toward her then, gave her a small smile. Her body reacted immediately, her draw to him unmistakable. Yes, he was handsome. Quite the handsomest man Imogen had ever seen. But there was so much more to him than that. There was kindness, and gentleness, and a deep hurt that she wished with all her might she could mend. What, she wondered, did Frances see?
As if reading her mind, Frances spoke. “He seems a good man, Imogen.”
“He is,” she murmured.
“You care for him.” It was not a question. And again, silence was the only answer Imogen could give. She had acknowledged it in her heart. If she said it aloud, it might be her undoing.
“Take care, dearest,” her sister whispered.
The rest of the party joined them then, and there was no more chance for talk. But Imogen observed. And what she saw surprised her.
Here was Lord Sumner, actually showing care for Frances. She had noticed it earlier in the drawing room, but now it was more pronounced. He made certain his wife rested, that she not over-exert herself, that she was shaded from the hot afternoon sun. Frances for her part seemed happy with the change.
Something uncurled in Imogen’s chest. If things could alter for the better in Frances’s marriage, wasn’t it possible for a relationship to work between Caleb and herself?
A short time later she made her farewells of her sister and her husband. She placed her fingers in Caleb’s to allow him to hand her up into the carriage for the journey home. As the now familiar electric shock from his touch sizzled through her, she vowed not to make her decision too quickly. But the surge of hope in her chest told her exactly what her heart’s say in the matter was.
Chapter 22
Imogen stood up before the assembled couples and swallowed hard. This was proving even more difficult than she had imagined.
The evening had progressed surprisingly well—as long as she hadn’t allowed herself to think of what was expected of her after supper. There had been a wonderfully casual feel to the party from the start. The good Reverend Elijah Sanders and family had arrived first, as his vicarage was just a short walk from the manor house. He was a jolly, rotund gentleman with an equally jolly, rotund wife. They had two daughters, the Misses Rebecca and Hannah Sanders, both of whom were sweet, bright girls, as well as a younger son, Gabriel, who it seemed would be following in his father’s pious footsteps. The reverend and his family did not fawn over Lady Willbridge, as so many vicars with wealthy patrons did. Instead they had a comfortable way of talking with the marchioness that showed years of true friendship.
Sir Alexander Mottram and his family also seemed quite close to those at Willowhaven, related to Lady Willbridge on her mother’s side. The two families lived but an hour from each other, and from the conversation that circled around the table it seemed they got together often. Sir Alexander and his wife had two sons, tall and witty Mr. Daniel Mottram, who was not long out of University, and Mr. Christopher Mottram, a younger son who was vocal in his desire to buy his commission and join the Horse Guards.
Imogen liked them all immensely. They were neither unfriendly nor pompous, but instead had a wonderful openness that allowed her to relax and converse with surprising ease.
