Putting on Airs (5 page)

     
Sitting outside in just such a manner with Mrs. Barton, the parasol, and the Bible, Imogene received a guest—Mr. Archer.  He bowed and cast his shadow over the open pages of the Bible, and the sudden darkness made Imogene look up to notice him.

     
"Good-day, sir," she stammered, surprised at his presence.

     
"Good day, Ms. Cartwright," he returned.  "I hope you are in better health today."

     
"I am, thank you.  I hope you and Clarice are in good health."

     
"We are, thank you.  Clarice is inside speaking with your sister, but she will be out to see you in a moment, if you like."

     
"I would like very much to see her, yes."

     
"We have been by before in hopes of seeing you, but were told that you were too ill for visitors."  Imogene strongly suspected that her mother had told them so.  Fortunately, Mrs. Cartwright joined Anthony in visiting the Cole family for the day, leaving the Archers quite safe to be in the Cartwright house.  However, Mrs. Barton would no doubt have a word with Mrs. Cartwright upon her return.

     
Mr. Cartwright came into the garden and greeted Mr. Archer with a hearty handshake.  "Here you are, Mr. Archer; sneaking through the house," he joked.  "Though Mrs. Cartwright is away from the house today, so feel at ease to make yourself at home."

     
"Thank you, sir."

     
"Even when she is home, I encourage you to do the same, as it suits your comfort."

     
"I do not think it would be wise to make a habit of it, sir.  We only came today to see if Ms. Cartwright is well."

     
"That is very good of you, sir."  Mr. Cartwright turned to his daughter, taking her hand.  "You gave us all a great fright, you know.  I forbid you to ever do that again."

     
Imogene smirked.  "I shall try not to, sir, but I cannot make any promises."

     
"Such is life, eh?"  He then noticed Mrs. Barton behind the parasol.  "Mrs. Barton, would you accompany me into the house?  I have some things I need to speak to you about regarding my daughter's education."

     
Passing the parasol to Imogene, Mrs. Barton followed Mr. Cartwright into the house.  Imogene at once snapped the parasol shut and sat it on the bench.  Both she and Mr. Archer were silent, having nothing to say.  After a moment, he felt awkward standing over her, so he sat on the bench across from her.  It felt to Imogene reminiscent of the times in past years when she and her cousin sat together, having nothing to say.  And Mr. Archer was the same age as her cousin, so she wanted to be careful not to say anything that may sound childish to him.

     
Breaking the silence, Clarice appeared and greeted Imogene with a curtsey.  "How are you feeling today, Ms. Cartwright?"  She smiled politely and had an air of bashfulness, which seemed somewhat odd after she and Imogene became such good friends at the ball.

     
"Quite well, thank you, Clarice.  And I have told you before that you may call me Imogene."

     
"Sorry; Imogene.  And thank you again for inviting me to the ball.  I had a wonderful time."

     
"Would you both like to stay for tea?"

     
Clarice turned to her guardian with pleading eyes.

     
"Thank you, but we cannot stay," Mr. Archer declined, rising from the bench.  "We are glad to see you are feeling better.  Good day, Ms. Cartwright."

     
"Good day, Imogene," Clarice chimed as she followed her guardian to their carriage.

     
Only a minute after, Mr. Cartwright stepped out and held out his arm to his daughter, smiling.  "Would you like to join me for a walk, daughter?"

     
Returning the smile, she rose and took his arm.  "Mrs. Barton will have a fit, father."

     
"She already is having a fit."

     
"What do you mean?"

     
"I spoke to her about what I think of her lessons for you."

     
"Would I be too prying if I asked for elaboration?"

     
"I believe I said something along the lines of ‘preposterous pedagogy', etc.  However, she is under Mr. Campbell's management, not mine.  Which means that after she has spoken with him, I will speak with him."

     
Embracing her father with all her strength, she thanked him and kissed him.

     
"Mr. Butler proposed.  We are going to be married soon."

     
"Emmeline, that is wonderful!" She sprang up to embrace her sister.  "I shall miss you when you move away, but I could visit, and I will be sure to write often."

     
"But I am not sure if..."

     
"Are you not happy?"

     
"Yes, I am.  Well, I am not quite sure.  I mean, I love Mr. Butler so much, and I do want to marry and have children..."

     
"But...?"

     
"I do not think I am ready."

     
"You are, Emmeline.  Mr. Butler would not have asked you now if he did not feel you were ready."

     
"But you are not married yet, and you are the oldest."

     
"This is not about me, sister, this is about you."

     
"But the house will be so lonely without you."

     
Imogene embraced her sister again, feeling the same way about her.  "You will be far too happy with your husband and far too busy with your children to miss me, dear.  I promise everything will be just..." The voices of Mr. Cartwright and Mr. Campbell came and went as the two passed by down the hall together, and Imogene was suddenly struck into a panic.  "When did Mr. Butler propose, Emmeline?"

     
"Last week, but I had to wait until you were well to tell you."

     
"Oh no!" she gasped.  "What if Mr. Campbell will propose to me soon?  And he and father just went to talk!  No, he cannot propose; he must not want to after how I behaved at the ball."

     
"I think he will propose.  While you were ill, he sat by your bed every day."

     
"He did?  Why would he be so attentive to me after I behaved so shamefully at the ball?"

     
"I heard him say to mother that you must have behaved so bizarrely
because
you were ill."

     
"That ignorant man!  Emmeline, you must not let me alone with him.  I cannot allow him an opportunity to propose to me."

     
Just then, Mr. Butler came into the room, and Imogene begged the same assistance of him.  He felt awkward about it, but wanted to do his future sister-in-law a good turn, so he took the two ladies on a trip into town.  It was a very enjoyable trip for the three of them, but upon returning home that evening, Imogene had a sinking realization that she would not be able to run from the proposal forever.  The only remedy would be for him to propose and for her to reject him.  Upon being rejected, Mr. Campbell would surely agree to a breach of betrothal.

     
She was just heading toward a bench in the center of the park, but she froze stiff at the sight of someone already sitting there.  The darkness hid any familiarity, but she could hazard a guess.

     
"Imogene?" She heard her cousin's voice, then his footsteps rustling the fallen leaves as he tread toward her.  "What are you doing out here so late?"

     
"I might ask the same of you, sir." She heard him getting closer, so she continued to walk away.

     
"Wait; while you are here, I would like to speak with you."

     
Imogene's initial reaction was to run, but she forced herself to halt, taking a deep breath.  "Very well, sir."  Though she decided not to attempt an escape, she was still too afraid to turn and face him.

     
"Madam, when I first arrived here, I found your behavior severely questionable.  However, you have quite transformed, and your improved behavior proves to me that you are ready for marriage."

     
"You are quite mistaken, sir."

     
"Do not think on what happened at the ball.  I know you were ill, and I have forgiven you."

     
The words echoed in her mind, turning her fear into fury. 
I have forgiven you. 
But she was determined to maintain composure; she knew that he would not take her seriously if she just exploded on him.  She slowly turned to face him.  "It is generous of you to forgive me, sir, but I never asked for your forgiveness, nor will I now accept it."

     
"Do not feel so unworthy, Imogene.  I realize that your behavior—"

     
"
My behavior
...yes, it is abhorrent.  What of
your
behavior, sir?"

     
"What of it?"

     
She could hardly conceive that he was so blind to his own faults.  Her eyes began to tear as she told him, "Ever since you have come here, I have never been ‘worthy' of you.  You find fault in everything I do and everything I say, but you never find any fault in yourself."

     
"Imogene, there are certain standards to uphold in my position."

     
"Your standards are not the same as mine, nor will they ever be."

     
"But your lessons—"

     
"Those lessons are absurd!  And as for the ball, all my actions were deliberate, even planned!"

     
His brows furrowed, and his eyes widened in shock and confusion.  "
Planned
?  You
planned
that humiliation?  What do you mean you
planned
it?"

     
"I mean that I have been so desperate for a breach of betrothal that I publicly tainted my reputation in pursuit of it..." Imogene choked on tears of anger that were near bursting.

     
Mr. Campbell looked as though he had been slapped.  "You do not want to marry me?"

     
Imogene gaped at his ignorance, then said in a tone so firm that it was chilling:  "I have
never
wanted to marry you, Mr. Campbell."

     
They stood in silence a moment until Mr. Campbell retreated to the bench, then Imogene left toward the house feeling upset and angry, but liberated.

The next morning was grey and bleak with a chilled wind blowing through.  At the sight of it, Imogene smiled and thrust open the window, breathing the fresh air in deeply and already planning to take
Henry IV: Part One
along with her outside to the garden.

     
"Close that window, Ms. Cartwright; are you trying to make yourself ill again?"

     
Her spine shuddered at the sound of Mrs. Barton's voice.  She thought for sure that her father would have managed to get rid of her, but somehow, she was still lurking around.  "Mrs. Barton?  You are still here?"

     
"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly as she picked out a gown for Imogene to wear that day.  "I shall be here until the wedding to continue your instruction."

     
Imogene whirled around to face Mrs. Barton with an expression of terror.  "What do you mean ‘until the wedding'?"  She decided not to panic; perhaps she meant Emmeline's wedding.

     
"Mr. Campbell gave me strict instructions—"

     
"
Mr. Campbell?
  He did not tell you?"

     
"Ms. Cartwright, if you cannot even master the art of not interrupting while another person is speaking, then I may be here longer than either of us bargained for."

     
As though a fire were lit under her, Imogene stormed from her room to hunt for her cousin.

     
"Ms. Cartwright! 
Come back here!
  You cannot go around in your nightclothes!"

     
But Imogene did not hear her; she was only thinking of what words to say that might make any impression on Mr. Campbell of her resolve.  Emmeline stopped her before she got too far down the hall.

     
"Sister, where are you going in your nightgown?"

     
"What?"  Looking down, she realized she was not appropriately dressed for an audience with her cousin.  "Where is our cousin?"