Putting on Airs (16 page)

     
I am in love with Mr. Archer!
she thought, at once both relieved at the realization surfacing and also amused that it had taken so long for her to realize.  Recalling the earliest moments of their acquaintance, her first impression of him had been that he was a very fine figure of a man, with an air of elegance and strength she had not seen before.  She was further impressed by the controlled manner he maintained, despite being obviously upset, and by the gentle, protective inclination toward his ward.  And when he rode away in the carriage that day, feeling such disdain toward every Cartwright, she felt heartbroken.  She never truly considered it to be more than mere embarrassment; to be so enamored of a man she just met was not in her nature—she always regarded herself more practical than that.

     
She continued to deny any such endearment, as any visits or conversations she had with him seemed to show no interest on his side.  Any feeling she suspected she had she regarded merely as respect.  But their time spent in Penzance drew out every quality that he had before seemed to lack, building him up to the finest gentleman of her acquaintance.  And yet she continued to feel ridiculous, thinking such a fine man would by no means consider her as more than a good friend of his ward.

     
It is possible that Mr. Archer admires you
, Jane had said.  And Imogene never knew her friend to be a poor judge of character.  Her feelings and her hopes that she had been suppressing released all at once as she exhaled into the cool evening air.

     
"Are you unwell?"  Turning around, she saw Mr. Campbell hastening toward her.  "I saw you leave the room.  Do you need me to call a carriage?"

     
"No, Rupert, thank you.  I am well.  I just needed some air.  It gets stuffy in those ballrooms."

     
"Your face is flushed.  Are you sure you are well?"

     
Imogene laughed to calm his concern.  "Yes, I am well.  Care to share some air?"

     
Mr. Campbell laughed.  "You are rhyming now?"

     
"I promise it will not be a constant strain."

     
They both leaned onto the windowsill to breathe in the night air.

     
"There still seems something different about you," Mr. Campbell remarked.  "What is it?"

     
Imogene suppressed her smile.  "I would not know.  You see the difference, not I."

     
"Do you have some fantastic secret you are not telling me?"

     
"You are the only person besides Jane whom I do not keep secrets from, my dear cousin."  For an instant, she wondered if she should confide in him.  But she decided it would feel too awkward to do so; though they were friends now, considering what they once were kept her from divulging.  Suddenly, she actually found herself feeling guilty, glowing as she was over her discovery, with Mr. Campbell there with her.  She put her arm around his.  "I hope we shall always be good friends, Rupert."

     
Mr. Campbell smiled warmly.  "Naturally, Imogene."  With that, he stepped away from the window.  "Are you ready for more dancing, miss?"

     
"I believe so, sir.  Do show me the way."

     
However, before they could begin their ascent up the stairs, the sound of someone entering through the front door took their attention, and they turned to see Mr. Ashcroft senior entering in a clearly vexed manner.  Imogene looked to Mr. Campbell, who stood his ground so that he could not pass.

     
"Excuse me, sir," Mr. Ashcroft said.  "I am here to discuss business, and can have no delays."

     
"Perhaps I can be of some help," Mr. Campbell said.  "With whom do you intend to conduct business?"

     
"A certain Mr. Cole."  He seemed to recognize Imogene, because he looked to her to inquire, "Is he here?"

     
"No, he is not, sir," Imogene replied.  She was somewhat surprised by her instinct to defend Mr. Cole.  "His family is present, but not the elder Mr. Cole."

     
Mr. Ashcroft seemed then to relax.  "Ah.  Thank you.  I have no business here, then.  Good evening."  He turned and left just as sharply as he had arrived.

     
Mr. Campbell turned to Imogene, his look displaying mild confusion.  "Are you certain we ought to defend Mr. Cole?"

     
"So long as he is in public among his friends and neighbors, yes.  It would not do for him to bring down his family amid such an assembly.  I think that if Mr. Ashcroft desires to make his complaints known, he should do so in a more private setting."

     
Imogene had hardly finished her statement when Mr. Cole himself came hurriedly down the stairway, straightening on his coat as he passed by Imogene and Mr. Campbell and out the door, ordering his carriage as he went.  Nell followed shortly after, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs as she noticed the two standing there.

     
"Is something the matter?" Imogene asked.

     
"I only requested that he play a song on the pianoforte," she said, distressed.  "He agreed, but then just ran off."

     
"Did he...Did he happen to look out the window before he left?"

     
Nell thought for a moment.  "Yes...He said he would play for the next dance, glanced out the window, then left."  She sighed, pulling at the fingertip of her glove.  "Such a request has never offended him before; I wish I could at least catch him to apologize."

     
Imogene put a comforting hand on Nell's.  "I am sure you did not upset him.  You know his nature; it could have been that the room was too crowded, or simply that he needed some air.  Come.  We were about to rejoin the dance.  Mr. Campbell would be happy, I am sure, to share the floor with you."

     
"I would certainly be," Mr. Campbell said, taking Nell's arm to lead her up to the dance.

     
"Thank you, Mr. Campbell," Nell said.

     
Imogene followed shortly after, though not before taking one last glance toward the door to watch Mr. Cole's carriage thunder off down the road—with Mr. Ashcroft catching sight of its departure.

Imogene spent much of the following day strolling the grounds outside her home, trying to scheme various ways in which she could invite Mr. Archer to a visit, or a luncheon in town.  She naturally concluded that he would bring Clarice along, and she found nothing wrong with it, so long as she could make sure Mr. Archer would have a decent share in all conversation.  It almost made her feel like a child to plot so, but with there being such animosity between the Archers and her mother, she felt she would need to make it inescapably clear that she wished them to feel welcome at the Cartwright house.

     
She was formulating a possible plan, turning down the path toward a small patch of wood land, when she heard approaching footsteps.  Turning around, she was stunned to see Mr. Cole marching toward her as though she were an army to conquer.  At first, her instinct was to run away, but she tried to reason with herself to be rational, and so took great effort in rooting herself to the spot—at least until she had heard what he had to say.

     
He began somewhat out of breath from the haste: "I could not dare hope that your decision is altered, Ms. Cartwright, but I have come to appeal to you again for your hand in marriage."

     
Imogene decided that running away would have been a perfectly suitable reaction, but civility demanded that she make an answer.  "My decision is not altered, Mr. Cole.  I am sorry you have taken such pains to find me, but I have no other answer to give you."

     
His manner became more agitated, bringing to his eyes an almost pitiable anxiety.  "Would it make a difference if I said that I love you?"

     
It was Imogene's turn to be flustered.  "There...is a difference, sir...in saying such things, and meaning them."  She took a moment to find her breath.  "But, sir...I by no means wish to inflict any hurt...but even if you truly felt that way for me, I do not feel that way for you.  It would not be fair to either of us for me to say—"

     
"Ms. Cartwright, I must impress upon you the reality of your situation: that any woman in her lifetime cannot expect that things will work out to her design.  If you refuse me, you may not receive another."

     
Imogene became instantly indignant.  "I have well surpassed the average woman, as this is at least the third proposal I have received!  If I had even a slight ambition for marriage, I could play my options rather well, but I am more concerned with genuine happiness, and the only part marriage would play would be one of mutual affection.  So I beg you, sir, for your sake and mine, turn your attentions elsewhere."  She moved to walk back toward the house, but Mr. Cole took hold of her arm.

     
"I need you to hear me," he said.

     
Now growing afraid, she tried to pull her arm free.  "Let me go!"

     
"HEAR ME!"

     
She froze, staring at him, terrified.  What was even more surprising, was that she could almost detect fear in his own eyes.  It was nearly a full minute before either was able to speak.  "Why me, Mr. Cole?"

     
His hand shaking, he let go of her.  "Because you saw the letter."

     
"You mean the one from Mr. Ashcroft?"

     
"Already knowing my secret, I thought to approach you."

     
"But I do not
know
anything!  The general idea of black mail is evident, but I have no idea of the details beyond that."

     
As Mr. Cole became increasingly frantic, he tried to calm himself by sitting on a fallen tree trunk.  Despite how fearful she had become of him, Imogene could not leave him in such a state, as he seemed truly distraught.

     
"Mr. Cole, we cannot keep on with this.  Tell me what this connection is between you and Mr. Ashcroft, and perhaps I could help you in a more constructive way."

     
He shook his head.  "I assure you, there is no other way.  I have thought it over many times."  After a couple deep breaths, he continued: "I first met Mr. Ashcroft nearly five years ago, at Lime, where I had a house in the city.  Before being introduced to him, I had been acquainted with his son, Christopher.  His ship came in, and we met at the tavern.  For the four days his ship was berthed, we spent our days talking and finding diversions."  He paused, gathering his breath.  "I then made the...very grave mistake...of confessing my affection for him."

     
By his tone, Imogene could tell exactly what he meant, and the weight of her astonishment sat her down next to him.  "And he told his father?"

     
"No.  His father was just coming into the room at the time I said it...it was a surprise visit.  More of a surprise than either of them accounted for, I think.  Christopher was much more forgiving than his father...Mr. Ashcroft senior threatened me on several occasions to leave town, which I finally agreed to do.  The country house I had inherited from my father had only been a seasonal home, but I was forced to make it a more permanent residence.  I was wary, as I knew Mr. Ashcroft to live in Bath, but I thought the remoteness of my country house would suit, and it did...until the rest of my family moved into the city."

     
"But why would he continue his threats?  You are well away from his son here."

     
"I believe he worries that I will reveal myself and my connections to his family."

     
"Have you not assured him that you would not tell?"

     
"Many times.  I even offered to have a barrister draft a contract, but he did not want even a barrister to have any idea of the situation.  He has threatened before to call the police into it, but again, I think he worries about rising speculation."

     
"Does that not make his threats somewhat...hollow?"

     
Mr. Cole shook his head slowly.  "In Lime, he made very evident what he is capable of."  He glanced at her.  "I thought if I married a lady, he would feel safe from me, and so I from him.  When your mother made the suggestion to me, I thought it a good idea."

     
Imogene nodded in understanding.  "I do wish I could help you, but this is no way to remedy things."

     
"Have you any other suggestions?"

     
"I...No, I have none."

     
"Listen, Ms. Cartwright, I could be good for you.  I can afford any kind of life you want to have."

     
"No, you could not.  I am truly sorry, Mr. Cole, but I cannot marry you.  There must be another solution, something that could grant happiness on all sides."  She sighed.  "Just...Give me some time.  Do not go into town for a few days.  I will think of something."

     
"You will not tell anyone?  You must promise not to tell anyone."

     
"Of course.  I promise."

     
He looked her in the eye for the first time in that conversation.  "Thank you for your understanding, Ms. Cartwright.  I apologize if my trying to remedy my problem has made you feel harassed."

     
"It did," she confessed, "but I think I can imagine how are you feeling.  You are trying to secure safety and happiness.  I myself have done rather shameful things for the same sake."  Her own words struck her, teaching her just how similar his situation was to her own, and it made her more determined to help him.  "I
will
think of something."  She rose from the fallen tree trunk.  "Would you like to go for a walk?  It will relax you."