Putting on Airs (18 page)

Mr. Campbell met her for luncheon the following day.  Rather than going out to dine in the city as they usually did, he was seized by the fine weather of the day to take in a picnic on the estate.  Imogene was relieved—not only was she wary of appearing in town until the matter with Mr. Ashcroft was resolved, but she craved the free blue sky, open field, and bright sun to soothe her unsteady nerves.

     
The picnic proved to be just the thing.  All the food tasted better in the fresh, warm air, and Mr. Campbell made all the right sort of conversation to make her feel at ease, and even to laugh.

     
"This is a much better scheme," he said as they were finishing the final course.  "I have of late been feeling somewhat stifled by society.  When I went to town yesterday, I saw a lady struggling to carry some packages to her carriage.  I offered to help, but she refused, sticking her nose in the air and saying that we were not well enough acquainted.  What degree of acquaintance does one need to carry a bag?  Was I to bow to her parcel and introduce myself?"

     
Imogene laughed.  "You know how strict those city parcels can be about etiquette."

     
"I am continually astonished by how breeding and a continuous study of manners can lead to a lack of other vital qualities."  He paused.  "It causes me to greatly regret what I had tried to inflict on you, with the assistance of Mrs. Barton.  You truly have forgiven me for how I behaved?"

     
Imogene smiled.  "You regret your actions, and with sincerity.  Of course I forgive you."

She
laid back on the grass.  "After all, since my sister married and moved away, you have been my greatest companion."

     
"I am glad of that," he said as he leaned back against the tree.  "You know, I had even begun to regret it then.  I would notice that, after a session with Mrs. Barton, you were much more...hollow.  I had only done what I had, because I truly thought it was, well...that it was expected of me, and that it would be the best for us both.  I did not like a single thing I said, nor the effect of Mrs. Barton, but I persevered, because I had thought it was my duty.  But in reality, Imogene, I never wanted you to change."

     
Imogene's breath caught in her chest, and she pretended to focus on a cloud passing overhead.  But his sudden silence coaxed her to sit up—he was looking directly at her.

     
"Our betrothal had been doomed to failure, because we were both following others' expectations, obeying our duties to people other than ourselves."

     
Imogene nodded, and quietly agreed, "I believe you are right."

     
He reached out and gently took her hand.  "However I may have behaved before, I have always cared for you, Imogene.  And I have learned that my duty is not to others, but to the happiness of those I love...of the one I love."

     
Imogene's face flushed with surprise.

     
"If you are willing to give your free consent, I would like to renew our betrothal, and this time dedicate myself fully to your happiness.  I am not deserving, I know, but your friendship and your willingness to forgive granted me hope.  Tell me now if friendship is all you can truly offer me."

     
Imogene opened her mouth, but could not speak.  She did not know how to reply.  His words were far more caring and sentimental than she thought him capable, and for a moment, she could imagine it—she could imagine being married to Mr. Rupert Campbell.  But then she was somehow reminded of Mr. Archer—she had only recently discovered that she loved him.  But was it really love?  Even so, would Mr. Archer ever consider her in the same way?  For however she admired him, she never felt truly comfortable in his presence—was that love, or was that intimidation?  But with Mr. Campbell, she felt warmth and friendship.  Perhaps they did not always agree, but she felt ridiculous in supposing that any two people in the world could ever agree on absolutely everything.

     
However deep these thoughts, they all flashed through her mind in mere moments, until she once again became conscious of her hand in his.

     
"You offer me a betrothal, Mr. Campbell..." she began quietly.  Then she met his eye and said, "I offer you an engagement."

     
A smile sprouted across his face as he embraced her closely.  Imogene was relieved to find that it felt perfectly comforting, as though reassuring her of her decision.

     
"You have made me the happiest man, Imogene!" he declared.  "Your father gave me his blessing, but I set it to you to choose the date.  It can be a long engagement, if you choose."

     
"I will think about it."

     
He rose, helping her to stand as well.  "I hope you will excuse me.  If I wait a minute later to write my mother with this news..."

     
"I can certainly understand that," she replied, reflecting on her own mother.

     
However, before leaving, he took a ring from his pocket and placed it on her finger.  It was the same signet ring he had given to for her twelfth birthday, which she had returned at their breach of betrothal.  With that, he kissed her hand and hastened to the house.  Imogene, her head in a whirl, finished the wine from both glasses, then laid back to stare up at the clouds.

That evening, Mrs. Cartwright insisted they all attend the assembly in town.  Imogene was unsure that her appearance at an assembly would be wise—regarding the secret of Mr. Ashcroft's black mail—but her mother demanded she attend with her fiancee, to inform their neighbors of the engagement.  Imogene consented, only knowing that she would be surrounded by friends and family—and a fiancee—to keep Mr. Ashcroft at bay.

     
Everyone was in attendance—the whole Cole family, including Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Cole, Mr. and Mrs. Butler, and Mr. Archer and Clarice.  To Imogene's immense relief, Mr. Ashcroft was nowhere to be found.  She felt perfectly confident, then, to take Mr. Campbell's arm and be led all around the room, with congratulations of their engagement at each passing.  It was rather peculiar—the last time Imogene was being introduced as a betrothed, she was mortified and embarrassed.  But this time, she accepted the congratulations graciously, and was happy to accept Mr. Campbell's offer to dance.  Her feet were much lighter than when they last danced betrothed, and she even smiled for the duration. 

     
One fleeting glance in Mr. Archer's direction sobered her smile.  At the dance's end, another approached her to dance the next: Mr. Henry Cole.  She accepted, mostly out of curiosity.  As they danced, he spoke in low, discreet tones.

     
"I am in your debt, Ms. Cartwright," he began.  "Whatever you did, it has provided me relief for the first time in years."

     
"Mr. Ashcroft is leaving you alone?" she asked.

     
"He is contracted to be a privateer.  He will disembark within the fortnight.  He was instructed to write me a letter to inform me."

     
Finding Mr. Archer in the crowd, she smiled slightly in his direction.  "I am pleased to hear it, sir."

     
"Were you not already engaged, I would propose to you again."

     
She chuckled, though somewhat awkwardly.  "It is not fully myself that should receive the credit, sir...Though, if the true instigator has not revealed himself, perhaps it is not my place to do so."

     
At the dance's end, he bowed and escorted her from the floor.  "I sincerely wish you every imaginable happiness, Ms. Cartwright."

     
Seeing that Mr. Campbell was occupied speaking with Mr. Butler, Imogene took the opportunity to find Mr. Archer, whom Clarice just left to speak with Emmeline.  She could not explain why, but she felt like she was intruding as she approached him.

     
"Thank you, sir," she began, "for your great service to me, and to Mr. Cole."

     
"It was no great service," he replied.  "Through the years, I have loaned money to Mr. Ashcroft.  I merely had to tell him that he could no longer borrow from me, and that he had two choices: give himself over to his debtors and be imprisoned, or join Christopher in earning money as a privateer."

     
"Oh, he is going to be a privateer again?  I am glad to hear it.  He always sounded so happy and at peace when he talked of the sea."

     
Mr. Archer nodded.  "In his letter, he asked that I join him as well.  But I reminded him of my foremost duty to Clarice." 

     
"Oh..."

     
"Clarice greatly admires you.  I am sure she is glad of your decision...as am I."

     
"I hear I am to congratulate you."

     
She replied awkwardly, "Yes...I am engaged to be married."

     
"I am glad to hear that Mr. Campbell and yourself could work through your difficulties.  I wish you both happiness."

     
For the remainder of that night, anytime those words were spoken by another congratulating her, they were accompanied by Mr. Archer's voice saying the same, making it difficult for her to accept each compliment as time wore on.

------

Over the following week, Imogene took many opportunities to visit Jane, and invited her for visits.  At first, Jane asked many questions regarding the engagement and the wedding date, to which Imogene replied that she had not yet made a decision, then would declare she had of late been too much talking about those topics, and wanted to hear something new.  Therefore, all other conversations were regarding the weather, society, events, and other people.  Most of their visits were spent on their favorite pastime, an activity that they always used to do together when they were younger—croquet.

     
Jane was notoriously fiendish with the game, and was often the victor.  She would purposely aim her ball close to Imogene's so that she could strike the two together, a method which often either greatly helped her own progress, or greatly deterred Imogene's. 

     
As she lined up her next shot, Jane asked, "So you are in love with him now?"

     
Imogene replied, "It is the best friendship I have ever had with a gentleman.  I care for him a great deal."  She took her stance to shoot next.  "I know that I would be happy with him."

     
"I had always been under the impression that you wanted more than that to consent to a marriage."

     
"I had always thought so, too."  Her final shot rolled through the wicket to strike the rod.  "But if I have happiness, what more could I want?"

     
"You do not regret it?"  Jane prepared to hit, but then remarked, "Imogene, you just bested me!  You little sneak, how did you do that?"

     
Imogene smirked.  "I triumph about once every ten years."             

     
A sudden shout from the house alarmed them both, and they ran all the way inside to find out what was wrong.  Anthony was treading across the foyer to the door, with Mrs. Cartwright at his heels.

     
"I forbid it!" Mrs. Cartwright wailed.  "No son of mine will marry a foundling!"

     
"I have made my decision, mother!" Anthony rebuked.  "I am in love with Ms. Archer, and I will ask her to marry me, if she will have me after how you have treated her."

     
Seeing Imogene and Jane, Mrs. Cartwright appealed to them: "Girls, you must tell him he is being a sentimental fool!"

     
Imogene approached her brother.  "You are really in love with her?"

     
Anthony nodded.  His worn face proved that he had been through some distress.  "I have realized how much I have missed her, and how I do not want to be without her any longer."

     
Imogene smiled and embraced her brother.  "Assure Mr. Archer of your sincerity, and I am sure he will give his blessing."

     
With a fresh smile on his face, Anthony left before his mother could protest any further.  When he returned later that day, Imogene was eager to meet him at the door.  The smile that remained on his face told of good news.

     
"She consented!" he said.  "And Mr. Archer gave his blessing!"

     
Imogene embraced him.  "Then let me be the first to congratulate you and wish you great joy."  She held his hand, smiling.  "I am so proud of how you have acted."

     
"I thought I could content myself with someone else.  There were other ladies I knew I could be happy with, but none of them could compare with how I felt about Clarice.  I was, of course, expecting that Clarice would still be angry with me.  But she has loved me all this while, too!  In fact, her only disappointment was that she would miss her guardian."

     
Imogene was suddenly reminded of something.  "You mean, because she will be living with you instead?"

     
"Well, yes, in part.  But also, he will become a privateer after the wedding.  Seems his friend suggested it to him, and he liked the idea."

     
"He said that?  He said that he would?"

     
"Yes.  He will be contracted about a week after the wedding." 

     
Imogene summoned another smile.  "I am very happy for you, brother."

     
He smirked.  "It is rather strange how it all worked out.  We hated the idea of betrothal before, and now here we are marrying our betrotheds by choice."             

     
Imogene nodded.  "Mother should be pleased."

------

Mrs. Cartwright was not pleased for the whole following five days, with the thought of her dearest child marrying someone with a nonexistent social status.  However, as the tension wore her into exhaustion, she came to terms with it, happy that at least her son would marry into a wealthy dowry.  And by the week's end, she was even content—after all, the last of her two children would be married, and everything worked out as designed since their births.