Putting on Airs (17 page)

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Authors: Ivy Brooke

BOOK: Putting on Airs
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"Thank you; I think I will return home."

     
"We will walk to the house, then."

     
He rose and nodded, offering his arm to walk with her to the house.

     
"If...I may ask..."  She paused, debating over whether or not to ask.

     
"I think I know what it may be.  Ask."

     
"I suppose...I find it interesting.  I mean...What is it that attracts you to men?"

     
"What is it that attracts
you
to men?"

     
Imogene laughed slightly, at which Mr. Cole started. 

     
"What?" he asked.

     
"I do not know how to answer that question myself.  It is rather peculiar...I have never thought about it before."

     
"Hm.  Neither have I, really."

------

As soon as Mr. Cole departed, Imogene went into the house library, gathering their meager collection of law books onto the table, and sitting to sort through them one at a time.  She got through barely half the pile when a servant entered to announce the arrival of Mr. Campbell.  At first, Imogene flustered to put the books away, but then she thought of an idea which could feel out Mr. Campbell's opinion on the subject—she kept the book she was looking at open to a case tried against a man charged with "public indecency".

     
Mr. Campbell strode robustly into the room.  "The carriage and horses are assembled, so we can go immediately to luncheon.  Are you occupied with something?"

     
The words stuck in her throat for a moment.  "I am...just reading."

 

     
Upon seeing the piles of books, he laughed.  "All that only this morning?  Imogene, if you engorge yourself too much on books, your mind will be overfull.  What are you reading?"  She remained silent as he peered over her shoulder to glance over the open pages.  She forbid her face to flush with embarrassment, and did not dare to glimpse his facial reaction.  "Why are you reading this?" he asked quietly.

     
"I was not reading it.  You see, I have been looking for a particular case...that my father brought up in a conversation we were having.  I was just skimming for it when you came in...I just happened to stop here..." 

     
He shook his head slightly.  "Only fifteen years' incarceration?"

     
The simple response made Imogene crestfallen.  She now knew she could not ask him for help.  But she summoned her spirits and closed the book shut, saying, "We should not keep the carriage waiting."

     
Through luncheon, as Mr. Campbell was pouring out conversation about an incident he had with a worn horse bridle, Imogene contemplated the possibility of speaking to her father in regards to Mr. Cole's situation.  She thought to work a test in the very same manner as that she put Mr. Campbell through.  After all, the law books all belonged to her father, and he was well versed in them all, complete with concrete opinions on each case.

     
Still, when the opportunity arrived for her to approach her father, Imogene was hesitant to follow through with her scheme.  She could manage such disagreement from Mr. Campbell, as it was not the first time for them to disagree on anything.  But she held her father's opinion above all others, and loathed to think how his disapproval might affect her.

 

     
They were both alone in the evening room.  He was engrossed in a book of natural science, while she had with her the same law book that had served her purpose last time.  Remembering the page number, she turned discreetly to it, and pretended to read.

     
"Father..." she began.  For a moment, she was unsure of how to proceed.  "I have a question regarding this case here."

     
Looking up from his own book, Mr. Cartwright glanced at the title of hers.  "I thought you had been reading
Julius Caesar
for the past few days."

     
"Oh...no.  Ah, you see...Mr. Campbell had brought up a case in conversation, so I have been reading through this book to try to better understand what it was he meant."  She stifled herself for a moment, feeling as though she were rambling.

     
"What case, then, and what question?"

     
She inhaled deeply.  "This case called ‘Parker vs Brown'."

     
Mr. Cartwright nodded.  "Of 1763?"

     
"Yes...in fact...What I do not understand is...is that Mr. Brown was charged with ‘public indecency'...but...by the facts presented...I do not understand how that charge was made."  Imogene could see at that time that her father was organizing his thoughts—a peculiar sign in itself.  Mr. Cartwright never hesitated before he spoke, as he always knew what to say.

     
"The public indecency they refer to is the fact that Mr. Brown made advances toward Mr. Parker, in much the manner a man would to a woman, which caused Mr. Parker great embarrassment."

     
Imogene feigned enlightenment and nodded.  "I see.  And it says he was sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment."

     
She had hoped his reply would be more revealing, but it was merely: "Yes, that is so."

 

     
She grappled through her mind to think of another move.  "It is a peculiar sort of case.  How is punishment determined for such a thing?"

     
"It could be any number of things—the degree of the humiliation inflicted; how public the humiliation was.  I have honestly put very little thought into such inconsequential cases."

     
"Inconsequential?"  Her hopes rose.

     
"I find it beneath the law to deal with such squabbles which can be handled among the parties involved on their own.  The presumed advances were so little, that they could have been easily misconstrued; you could find the very same practices going on all the time during balls and assemblies without any such complaints being raised.  Such petty cases are what harbor appropriate action from being done elsewhere, where it is truly needed."

     
Imogene was elated to find her father so open.  "How would you propose such a situation be handled, father?"

     
"It would be no more than Mr. Brown apologizing for the offense, and Mr. Parker accepting the apology, as respectable men are wont to do."

     
Imogene could not help but imagine such a simple solution being the answer.  But considering Mr. Ashcroft's character, she could not believe it to be effective.  She took a moment of silent hesitation, mulling it over, then said, "I am somewhat amazed...that where Mr. Parker was so humiliated, yet he made a public trial of the incident."

     
"Which declares that it may very well have been nothing to begin with."

     
"I could see, perhaps, ensuring that Mr. Brown would never again cross his path.  And...if that is the case, how could Mr. Brown have otherwise defended himself?"

 

     
"Against such petty men as Mr. Parker, there is very little defense.  One could not expect Mr. Brown to move from the city because one man is made insecure by him.  Mr. Parker might very well move, as it is his insecurity."

     
She felt herself prepared to ask more direct and pressing questions, but stopped herself, for fear of revealing the whole of Mr. Cole's secret, as she had vowed not to.  Then out of strategies, she turned the page.  "Thank you, father.  I understand now."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Imogene had only one remaining hope for help, and she could not imagine herself

actually
acting on it—Mr. Archer was great friends with Mr. Ashcroft junior, and therefore may possibly know of the gentleman's prior connection with Mr. Cole.  She did not think it likely that Mr. Christopher Ashcroft would disclose the details of such a situation to even a close friend, and also could not perceive how she would even begin to bring about the conversation with Mr. Archer.  There was also a great fear in his disapproval of wanting to help Mr. Cole—with her heart having only recently been revealed, she was not sure how it could hold against any disapproval from such a man.  But upon receiving an alarming letter the following morning, she knew that something had to be done.

     
Imogene visited the Archer residence on the pretense of visiting Clarice, only to be informed by a servant that she had gone to visit Nell.

     
"Mr. Archer is present," the servant added, "if you would like to see him."

     
Summoning her courage, Imogene nodded.  "Yes, thank you."

     
The servant led her to the den, where Mr. Archer seemed occupied balancing his exchequer.

 

     
"I am sorry to interrupt, sir," Imogene began.  "I had come to visit Clarice."

     
"She is gone to visit Ms. Cole," he said, setting down his pen. 

     
Attempting to ease her nervousness, she joked, "Only think if Ms. Cole were presently on her way to visit me!"

     
He smirked.  "That would be some roundabout fortune."  Both fell silent.  Imogene fixed her gaze on his pen, waiting for her nerves to subside, while Mr. Archer stared absently down at his desk.  He seemed suddenly to wake, and rose from his desk with a bow.  "Please sit down."

     
Imogene sat at the seat opposite his near the desk, gripping the arms for safety.  Ever since setting foot in the den, she had second-guessed her visit a thousand times, and was now doubting it once more.

     
"I had a letter from Christopher," Mr. Archer said.  "He inquires after your health and well-being, so I find it convenient that you have come; I can give him a direct answer.  Are you well, Ms. Cartwright?"

     
She stiffly nodded, and replied, "I am well, thank you.  And do please give him my regards when you write back."

     
"I will."  For a moment, their eyes were locked on each other, until Mr. Archer pushed back his chair to walk toward the front of his desk.  "There are yet some other inquiries I have to make for my letter, if you have the time."

     
"Certainly, sir."

 

     
"Good."  He sat in the other chair beside hers.  "I have had this on my mind for some time..."  Sitting more closely to her now, he noticed her anxiety and furrowed his brow in concern.  "Is there something troubling you, Ms. Cartwright?"

     
Imogene released the chair arms in favor of clasping her hands together to keep them still.  "To be honest, sir, there is something troubling me.  But I...I hesitate to relate it to you."

     
"Ms. Cartwright, you once risked your life for the safety of my ward.  You must know that I am indebted to you."

     
Imogene nodded and inhaled deeply.  "Has your friend Mr. Ashcroft...ever told you of his relations with Mr. Cole?"

     
After the initial shock of discovering that Imogene had any knowledge of it, he nodded.  "Near its occurrence, it was discussed by his father, who was at the time over-wary of me having the same inclinations as Mr. Cole.  When he became comfortable with my honesty, we became business associates."

     
"Then I wish to know, if I may, if Mr. Cole is your enemy."

     
"He is one man I hardly think of from one day to the next.  Though we have been introduced, he is yet a stranger to me."

     
"Mr. Ashcroft senior has more than once threatened him, fearing that anything he might reveal could disgrace himself and his son.  He has so oppressed him, that Mr. Cole..."  She did not want to give the full details.  "...sought my council.  I have had no advice to offer him solace, and now..."  Her hand shaking, she brought a paper from her purse and handed it to him.  "Perhaps if you read this for yourself, you would better understand."

     
Mr. Archer recognized Mr. Ashcroft Sr.'s seal printed on the wax as he opened the letter.

           
Ms. Cartwright,

 

                 
However you may dissemble
any connections you have to Mr. Cole, I have not
           
failed to notice it in your defense toward him.  I suggest you remove yourself from
           
society, or you force me to have you removed.  Impart what you have learned to
                 
anyone, and expect worse from me.

                 
P.R.A

     
"I did not know who else to turn to," Imogene said.  "I knew that you were well connected with the Ashcrofts, so I came..."

     
"You must return home at once," Mr. Archer said as he crossed the room to ring for the servant.  "I trust your carriage is still outside."

     
"It is, sir."  As she rose from her chair, she felt her heart sink into her stomach.

     
"Good.  Make use of it."

     
She walked out to the hall and to the front door, feeling that she had lost him forever.  Only feet away, the door opened for her, and she saw Mr. Archer at the handle.  He bowed, and with his eyes on hers, swore, "You will have nothing more to trouble you, Ms. Cartwright."

     
Imogene smiled with tears of relief.  "Thank you greatly, sir."

     
Through the carriage ride home, any relief Imogene had acquired was slowly abating.  In her distress, she imagined how it might be when Mr. Archer would encounter Mr. Ashcroft, and if it would really all end for the better.  However reassured she felt of her own safety, she now worried over his, and knew that she would not be at ease until she saw him again.

------

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