Putting on Airs (2 page)

     
"Then, Imogene, how can he speak of someone he did not know?"

     
Imogene shook her head.  "I just cannot get at him at all.  My cousin Katherine—his sister—has told me that when he was younger, he was obnoxious and impossible.  Yet by our first meeting, when he was near eight-and-twenty, he became no more interesting than an earthworm.  And now, with his deceased uncle's fortune, he has become—"

     
"Imogene." Mr. Campbell was now standing at her shoulder.  His look to her was almost one of scolding.  "Will you not introduce me to your friend?"

     
Upon being reminded of her manners by her cousin, something she took in offence, she replied in a superfluous air, "This is my friend Ms. Butler.  Jane, this is my cousin Mr. Campbell."

     
"I am her betrothed," he added.  Imogene winced at the thought of him introducing himself in the same words to everyone he met.  "Come, Imogene.  I shall call a servant to prepare the horses."

     
"But Jane—"

     
"I think my carriage is growing impatient for me, Imogene."  Jane rose to embrace and kiss her friend, promising to write, and left with a curtsey.

------

The horseback ride across the grounds was much of Mr. Campbell explaining high society to Imogene, who merely nodded and looked away, trying to not let it spoil the fine weather.  The lecture ended with the comment that she ought to behave as
his
society did if she were to be his wife.  Imogene resisted declaring that he ought to behave like a gentleman if
he
ever expected to be
her
husband.

     
The following morning brought another unwelcome surprise when Imogene awoke to find a stranger in her room—an older woman elegantly yet modestly dressed who was looking through Imogene's wardrobe.

     
"Good morning, Ms. Cartwright."

     
"I do not recall ever being introduced," Imogene replied harshly, staring in shock.

     
"My name is Mrs. Agnes Barton.  Mr. Campbell gave me strict instructions—"

     
"Mr. Campbell sent you?"

     
Mrs. Barton turned to face Imogene and scold, "Do not interrupt people while they are speaking to you."

     
Imogene opened her mouth to say how one should not enter another's bedroom without invitation, but thought the better of it and kept silent to hear Mrs. Barton's explanation.

     
"I will be your governess from now on, so that I might teach you how to behave in accordance with the status you will gain when you marry Mr. Campbell."  Imogene sat in silent surprise, unable to think of what to say.  "Your gowns are not bad, but there are a few that are quite out of date.  We will go into town today and buy new ones.  And this..." She pulled out a ruby red ball gown.

     
"That is my favorite dress," Imogene commented, worried that something might happen to it.

     
"It is not at all a suitable color for you, Ms. Cartwright.  Ladies who have red hair should not wear red clothing.  It will have to go."  Hearing noises from the open window, Mrs. Barton looked out to investigate.  She saw a tall, dark-haired man and a much younger blonde-haired girl climb out of a parked carriage.  "You have visitors.  You must go down and greet them.  Come out of bed and get dressed."                           

     
Mrs. Barton had picked out a silvery blue dress for Imogene to wear.  And as Mrs. Barton dressed her hair, Imogene tried to think who could be visiting after Mr. Butler and Mr. Campbell were already arrived.

     
Imogene was the last of the household to arrive in the drawing room to greet the guests.  The girl she immediately recognized as Ms. Archer, her brother's betrothed.  But as for the gentleman with her, he was familiar, but she was not well enough acquainted with him to quite remember him—she supposed him to be Mr. Archer, who appeared rather displeased.

     
"This is quite a pleasant surprise, Mr. Archer," Mrs. Cartwright told him.  "I did not expect you to come along, but here you are.  And dear Ms. Archer, I have quite missed you since you have been away.  And you look like you are doing quite well."  Then, she finally noticed her eldest daughter come into the room.  "There you are, Imogene.  Mr. Archer, I do not recall if you have ever met my eldest daughter.  She is betrothed to Mr. Campbell."  Imogene's eyes wandered over to her cousin sitting at the table.  He beckoned her to sit with him, and she reluctantly did so.  "What was it that you caught, poor dear?" Mrs. Cartwright turned back to Ms. Archer.  "I do hope it was not that horrid flu that has been going around."

     
"Clarice was never ill," Mr. Archer intervened.

     
Not at all believing his words, she gestured to her beloved son and explained that he told her so.  Mr. Archer again denied Clarice's being ill.  Mrs. Cartwright at last became suspicious.  She looked to her son who was leaning against the wall, his back to the room.

     
"Anthony, my darling, what is this about?"

     
"Ms. Archer was never ill," he admitted scornfully.

     
"Then why did you tell me she was?"

     
Anthony remained silent at this question.  Mr. Archer offered to explain, but Anthony rounded on him and declared in a sudden outburst that he would say it himself.  "I told you she was ill," he began to his mother, "because I did not want her to visit."  All was still and silent in the room as he prepared the rest of his confession, every eye and ear waiting on him.  "I broke off the betrothal."

     
And as he announced it, he seemed also to break his mother's heart.  "How could you say such a thing to me, Anthony?"

     
Anthony viciously turned on Mr. Archer again and demanded, "Tell her why I want to break it off."

     
"Very well," Mr. Archer replied composedly.  "Your son discovered the connections of my ward and decided it was not enough to suit his fancy."  Clarice's eyes grew teary, so Mr. Archer put a comforting arm around her.

     
Everyone sat in shock, but Mrs. Cartwright was the first to declare it, "Your ward?  I thought she was your sister."

     
"Clarice was found in our stables sixteen years ago when she was just an infant," Mr. Archer explained.  "My father took her in as a ward, and after his death, I accepted her as my ward."

     
"My son...betrothed to a
foundling?
" Mrs. Cartwright spat venomously.

     
"That is quite enough, madam," Mr. Archer warned.  He continued civilly,  "Now you can see why I have come.  My barrister will study the betrothal contract—"

     
"
Your
barrister?  No,
our
barrister must handle it, lest you take everything from us."

     
"Believe me, madam, when I say in strictest assurance that we would not want anything of yours," Mr. Archer resolved with a dark look to Anthony.  "However, if you wish your barrister to be involved, I cannot refuse.  Send him to the office in town tomorrow afternoon."  With that, he bowed to the room and left with Clarice.

     
"Well!"  Mrs. Cartwright huffed.  "What a horrible young man!"

     
"He was only defending his ward, my dear," Mr. Cartwright observed.

     
"Defending an artful little minx, he was.  My poor Anthony, what you must have gone through!  But she will not injure you any longer; this will all be settled tomorrow."

     
Imogene's face flushed red out of embarrassment of her mother, and without thinking twice, rose from her chair and rushed from the room to catch Mr. Archer and Clarice in their carriage just before they left.

     
"Please, sir," Imogene pleaded through shallow breaths, "please allow me to apologize for my mother.  She was unreasonably cruel to you and your...Ms. Archer.  I cannot express the remorse and embarrassment I feel."

     
"Nor can we express ours," he replied coldly.  And with that, the carriage departed down the road.

     
As Imogene watched it go, stunned at his coldness toward herself, Emmeline approached her from the house.  Upon noticing her older sister's teary eyes, she asked, "What is the matter?"

     
"I feel so humiliated..." she gasped out in reply, "...and angry."

     
"Mother was a bit wrong in saying the things she did," Emmeline said quietly, as if her mother could hear her all the way from the drawing room.

     
"She was
quite
wrong; yes, Emmeline."

     
A little more confident in speaking freely with her sister, she added, "Our brother did not behave well."

     
"Not at all.  Why do people not admit when they are wrong?  Why do people hold contempt for a person purely by their associations?" 

     
Emmeline offered a handkerchief, which Imogene used to dry her eyes.  "Why does it all matter to you so much?  None of it was directed at you.  You should not take it so hard upon yourself."

     
Imogene's only reply was to embrace her sister.  It was interrupted when Mr. Campbell came out and told Imogene that they were preparing for their trip into town.  But when he saw that her eyes were red, he asked if she was unwell.  Thankful for being given an excuse, she declared that she was unwell and went upstairs to her room while Mrs. Barton went shopping alone.

Imogene was much contented with the scheme she had created.  She kept to her room all day reading novels and writing letters.  Every now and then, she would rise from bed for a walk around the room, but would soon return to bed in case someone should stop in.  Mr. Campbell never came to see her, to her relief; however, Mrs. Barton visited in the evening to show the new gowns she bought for Imogene's wardrobe.  Then, just before bed, Emmeline came by to talk awhile about how well things were going with Mr. Butler.  Imogene was glad to hear that not only was her sister forming her own opinions on the situation, but also that she was so happy with her betrothed. 

      The next morning, Mrs. Barton came to ask Imogene how she was feeling.  Imogene was about to declare that she was still unwell, but changed her mind when she saw how fine it was outside.  Just after getting dressed, she slipped out of the house and down the path through the fine grove of trees.  She was unaware of how much time she spent there, getting lost in nature's splendors.  Then, when she was finally making her way back to the house, Mr. Campbell approached her on horseback.

     
"Imogene, here you are!" he cried, clearly upset.  "I have been searching for you everywhere; when you were missing at breakfast, no one could think where you were."

     
"I woke feeling much better and desired to go for a walk, that is all," Imogene explained.

     
"This headstrong behavior you have shown me since I have arrived is quite unattractive, madam."

     
Imogene had been accustomed to having her red hair called unattractive, but being accused as such for going on a walk without informing anyone truly upset her.  "Do you not think that is a problem you should discuss with Mrs. Barton?  She is the one you employed to change me in order that I may suit you."  With that, she walked away in the direction of the house, Mr. Campbell passing her on his horse, only after a moment to turn her words over in his mind.

------

After returning to the house and being found out by Mrs. Barton, Imogene received another lecture on her unattractive free will.  It was then that Mrs. Barton decided it was time to begin lessons on being a true lady.  The two of them sat in the drawing room for the lessons, and as Mrs. Barton lectured, Imogene
's eyes constantly glanced toward the window where the buttery yellow sunshine blazed through.

     
"Every lady of good breeding possesses these four virtues—" Mrs. Barton began, "—piety, purity, humility, and domestic quality.  From what I have observed in you so far, I will go step-by-step to assess how well you possess these four virtues."

     
Suddenly wary of the governess's threat to assess her personality, Imogene directed her attention away from the window and toward Mrs. Barton.

     
"First, there is piety.  I have not seen you in church, but I understand from your father that you go every Sunday and participate well; that is good.  However, I have also heard from your father that you indulge in books of fiction and science more than you partake of the Bible, which is not good.  Devotion to the Faith is particularly important for a lady, for it is her responsibility to thus instruct her children in the Faith and to see that her husband follows it well.  In order to remedy this, I am allowing you only to read the Bible and nothing else.  Each time you complete reading the Bible once, you are allowed to read one other sort of book of my choosing." 

     
Imogene was not entirely opposed to reading the Bible, but making it her only source of literary pleasure was unthinkable.  At the time, she was right in the middle of reading Shakespeare's history plays, and did not want to stop, for the Bible would take some weeks to read, and by the time she would return to Shakespeare's histories, she would have to reread them from the beginning to recall anything that was happening.