Page 59 of With Love in Sight
It was the most intense tone Imogen had ever heard from her sister. She pulled back in surprise, breaking the contact.
“I don’t understand,” she mumbled through numb lips. “You and Lord Sumner seemed so happy yesterday. I thought things were finally turning around for you both.”
Frances’s face crumpled. Her hands flew to her mouth. But not before a sob escaped her lips.
Imogen leaned forward. “Frances, what is it?”
“I was such a fool,” Frances whispered. “I knew he didn’t love me when we wed. I told myself he would love me eventually, that my love would be enough for us. But I was wrong.”
Imogen felt sick to her stomach. “But…yesterday…”
“An act,” Frances spat. “Do you honestly believe James wanted the Marquess of Willbridge to see him in a negative light? That and the babe.”
Imogen could well imagine the shock that took over her face. Frances caught sight of it, her lip curling. Even so, her hands came protectively over her abdomen.
“Yes, I’m with child. After so long married, it is a surprise to me as well.”
“But this is good news, is it not?” Imogen wanted to embrace her sister, to congratulate her. But the bitter look in her eyes stopped her.
“Good for James, perhaps. He will finally get his heir after years of failure on my part. As he has told me on numerous occasions in the past week.” She gave a sharp, humorless bark of laughter. The sound sent a chill up Imogen’s spine. “You are stronger than me, Imogen. How I wish I had your strength all those years ago when I overlooked my better sense and agreed to marry a man more concerned with status and position than with the comfort of those in his care. I would give anything to go back in time and change things.”
Imogen swallowed hard, fear rearing up. Her sister’s words hung thick in the air. “But surely Caleb is cut from a different cloth.”
Frances sagged back against the sofa. “That is just what I told myself. I was blinded; I loved him too much to see him for who he was.” She shook her head, closing her eyes wearily. “My love for him died long ago. I am no longer blind.”
Imogen looked at her sister’s face, misery plain in every line. Would that be her in a few years?
She had very nearly given in. When next he asked, she would have accepted him. But this one brief meeting with Frances—no longer guessing what she endured, but seeing for the first time the true depth of her pain—Imogen knew she could never marry Caleb unless he loved her in return.
The joy of mere moments ago snuffed completely out. And with it every hope for her future with Caleb.
• • •
Imogen did not see Caleb until late that night. He had been called away to help with some difficulty with one of his tenants and was quiet and tired when he returned shortly before supper was served. He ate dinner in a strangely subdued manner, asking her about her day, conversing with her father on his findings in the library, deflecting questions Daphne put to him. When the meal was over he asked their pardon, saying he wished to retire early.
As Imogen turned to follow the others to the drawing room, however, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked into his face, ignoring the jolt of desire that singed her nerves, deeply aware of the sorrow that had settled in her breast since her talk with Frances. There was a strange reserve in his eyes that had not been present before.
“Would you still like to visit the village tomorrow? I know we had talked about it this morning, but I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind.” His baritone voice was quiet and neutral, giving away nothing of his feelings.
Imogen frowned and searched his face, forgetting her own worries, wondering at his peculiar mood. “Of course, I would love that.”
He seemed to give a soft, almost inaudible sigh of relief. “Shall we leave right after breakfast then?”
Before she could answer, Daphne bounded up to them. “Where are you going tomorrow after breakfast?”
A muscle twitched in Caleb’s jaw. “To Ketterby. I thought Imogen would like to do some shopping for her siblings.”
“Wonderful, I shall join you. I would like to see Rebecca and Hannah Sanders. We can call for them at the vicarage on our way there.”
She bounced off, and Imogen and Caleb were left staring after her in disbelief.
“She is a force to be reckoned with,” Imogen muttered without thinking. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth in horror a moment later. What was she thinking, to say such a thing to Caleb about his own sister?
But he only smiled, his pale eyes crinkling at the corners. “She is that. I shall have to endeavor to get you alone another way.” He leaned toward her, his head dipping so quickly that she had no time to react. His mouth captured her own.
But this was no kiss of possession and desire. It was brief but gentle, and so achingly tender that Imogen found she could not breathe for the emotions it caused to well up in her. His lips were firm and warm against hers. She tasted wine on his mouth, felt the soft stroke of his fingers on her jaw line. Just as she began to return the pressure of his lips and lean in to his body, he pulled away.
One more look, his eyes soft and almost sad, and he left the room. She stared after him dumbly for a long moment.
