by Ivy Brooke
"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.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
That evening after supper, instead of adjourning to the parlor with everyone else, Imogene stepped outside. She had always been interested in a nighttime walk around their park, and she thought the timing was perfect—the moon was a haunting bright orange, once and again hidden by a mysterious, ghostly cloud. Not only was the sky scape fearfully enchanting, but it was an excellent scheme for further avoiding her cousin.
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.
CHAPTER TWELVE
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?"
"None of us have seen him all morning, and the servant could only say that he went into town and would not be back until after noon."
"Coward," Imogene mumbled.
"And..." Emmeline began timidly, "...I have heard that I should congratulate you on your—"
"Do not tell me that he announced our engagement to you all." Emmeline only nodded. "I cannot believe him! Well, Emmeline, I want you to be the first to know that I refused him ,and that he has lied to you all."
Mrs. Barton had just caught up with the two girls when Imogene turned right around and rushed back into her room, closing the door behind her. She looked feverishly at the four walls surrounding her and opened the window again, breathing the cool air. She quickly changed out of her nightclothes and hastened outside. But no matter how wide open the fields were, she still felt trapped, as if beyond the sky there was a ceiling coming down lower and lower, and all the trees were merely paintings on walls that were moving in closer and closer. She fell into the tall grass and stared up at the swirling grey skies, searching in vain for one gap leading to clear blue sky.
"Is this all?" she thought quietly. "I grow up, I marry someone I do not love in order to secure wealth and reputation, I have children that I do not even very much want...I give my entire life to another person whom I would rather never see again..." She knew too well that that was the way things were supposed to be. It had been taught to her in more ways than one over the years, and had even seen proof of it everywhere she went. How they could all grin and bear it, she could never guess.
"Imogene!" Emmeline rushed to where sister lie, a smile beaming on her face. "Are you all right?"
Imogene simply sat up and looked up at her sister. "What have you come all the way out here for?"
"The Coles have invited us all to supper tonight!"
"Really? It will be nice to see Nell again. Wait, when you say
‘all', does that include our cousin?"
"Yes."
"Of course...Then before we go, I shall have to set things straight with him. If one more person were to congratulate me, I should burst into tears." Rising, she took her sister's hand. "God bless you for finding someone you love."
"Mr. Campbell is very critical of you."
"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, dear sister. Do you know if either Mr. Cole is engaged to anyone?"
"No, I believe they are both bachelors."
"Young Mr. Cole is a good man."
"What are you getting at?"
"Nothing. Do not mind me; I think I may be delirious."
"Do you need a doctor?"
"No, a doctor will not do. For this delirium, there is no cure. Though, perhaps, a mild sedative..."
------
Imogene was the first to encounter Mr. Campbell upon his return to the house. She stood at the door, waiting for him to climb out of the carriage.
"Did you have a pleasant journey, sir?" she asked nonchalantly.
"Yes, thank you. I was fortunate to make it back before the rain could start." As if on cue, a gentle sprinkling of rain began to fall.
"Sir, did you tell everyone that we are engaged?"
"Yes, of course. And I was just in town procuring your ring."
"My ring?" Though she did not shout, her tone was enough to put Mr. Campbell on his guard. "Sir, do you not recall our conversation last night?"
In order to not allow himself to be the victim this time, he matched his tone to hers. "Madam, there can be no refusal. We have been betrothed these many years, and now is the time."
"Yes, the time to relinquish it. I cannot even see how you could still desire to marry me, anyway."
"This has been contracted for too long; as a man of honor, I cannot simply give it up."
"A contract is a piece of paper, sir. I am talking of our happiness; I would not be happy with you, and I am certain that you would not be happy with me."
"I will not yield, madam. It is only right that we should marry."
Feeling an oncoming headache, Imogene decided to resolve it for the moment. "Then, sir, if you went over the contract with your barrister, you would find that there can be no wedding until both bride and groom declare they are ready. I am not ready, sir; therefore, there will be no wedding until I agree; nor shall there be an engagement, then."
"I have the ring right here," he insisted, taking up a small velvet pouch.
Imogene stared at the pouch in fear, as though it were about to attack her. "You are ready for it, sir, therefore you wear it. I will have none of it." With that, she went back into the house to prepare for supper with the Coles.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mrs. Cartwright insisted on taking three carriages to the Cole's residence: one for Mr. Cartwright, Anthony, and herself, one for Mr. Butler and Emmeline, and one for Mr. Campbell and Imogene. There was nothing but silence between Imogene and Mr. Campbell throughout the entire carriage ride; they both simply sat gazing out opposite windows at the falling rain. It was just as things were before he came into a fortune, but it felt peculiarly awkward. Imogene kept anticipating Mr. Campbell's insistence on engagement or a remark on how "unladylike" she was, but he was absolutely silent and still. He is more handsome when he does not speak, she mused bitterly to herself.
Supper at the Cole family table was lively and interesting, on the other hand. There was always something to say, and many comments were followed up by laughter. The only ones who rarely partook of the conversation were Mrs. Cartwright and Mr. Campbell (who had their own aside conversations) and the elder Mr. Cole, who did not even seem to be listening.
"I was just discussing with mother," Mr. Phillip said, "my plans to give a ball at the end of the week. I would like you all to be the first of the invited guests."
"Fantastic!" Anthony cheered. "And Ms. Cole, before all the offers pour in, I would like to reserve the first dance with you."
"I would be delighted, Mr. Cole," she said immediately, as if she had impatiently anticipated him.
"A perfect scheme, Anthony," Mr. Phillip commented. "And I would like to reserve the first dance with Ms. Cartwright, if her cousin will allow."
"Take her for two dances, as you like," Mr. Campbell answered dismissively.
"Even better. What do you think, Ms. Cartwright?"
She hesitated at her answer, somewhat surprised by her cousin's reply. "Certainly, Mr. Cole."
"Come now, Henry," Mr. Phillip insisted to his brother; "Reserve a dance now before it is too late."
Everyone turned their attentions to Mr. Cole, awaiting a response. Seeing all eyes on him, he reluctantly responded: "Miss Emmeline, will you oblige me?"
She knew it would be fine with Mr. Butler, but Mr. Cole's cold manner frightened her a little. "O-of course, Mr. Cole. I would be...honored."
Mr. Cartwright was so humored by it all, that he almost asked to reserve a dance with Mrs. Cole, but he remembered himself in time.
After supper, they adjourned to the music room where all accomplished musicians in the company were persuaded to play. Mr. Cole played the pianoforte, Emmeline played the harp, Nell played the flute, and Imogene played the violin—this time well, to the delight of all the spectators. Then, thrilled with the scheme of her little surprise, Mrs. Cole brought out music so that all the musicians could play together. She tried to persuade them all to sing also, but that was more than any of them were willing to do.
By the end of the evening, Imogene was feeling better about everything. And after they returned home, Mr. Campbell had something particular to say as they were all talking excitedly about the ball.
"I will not be able to attend," he said.
"But of course you must come, Mr. Campbell," Mrs. Cartwright tried to persuade him.
"That would be quite impossible, madam, since I will be leaving in the morning."
Imogene fixed her attention to the conversation, wanting to make sure that she would not misinterpret anything and get her hopes up.
"Leaving? You mean for home? But Mr. Campbell, you know that you are welcome to stay longer."
"Thank you, madam, but I really think it is time for me to leave."
Imogene received a very dark look from her mother, but she paid it no mind; she was already silently triumphing, having finally won the battle. She slept better that night than she had in weeks.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Imogene stayed up in her room the next morning and watched through the window as Mr. Campbell's carriage was loaded, as well as Mrs. Barton's. She drummed her fingers on the windowsill impatiently, waiting for them to leave. They were just climbing into their carriages when Mrs. Cartwright invaded her room.
"Come down and see your betrothed off," she ordered.
Betrothed...The words made Imogene suddenly realize that Mr. Campbell had said nothing about arranging a breach of betrothal. She darted out of the room and down the stairs, but when she made it outside, the carriages were already gone down the road. Rushing back inside, she sat down with some ink and paper to compose a letter asking if he intended to arrange a breach of betrothal, and insisting that it be taken care of as soon as possible. After the letter was dispatched, she was once again at ease. Mr. Campbell was gone, at least, and Mrs. Barton gone with him. And due to his recent behavior, she was sure that her freedom was on the horizon. All the rest of the week, she prepared for the ball by practicing Greensleeves on the violin so as to be ready if asked to play. She also prepared some statements in the event that anyone asked her about Mr. Campbell.
As soon as the Cartwrights walked into the ball that Saturday, Phillip ordered the band to play and led Imogene to the dance floor for two dances in a row. It was the most fun she had in weeks, able to dance and enjoy herself without any worries nagging her heart. After dancing, she and Phillip sat out during a dance to talk. She thanked him for the invitation and the dances, and he expressed at least twice over how glad he was th
at she came. Jane arrived and found her friend immediately, but Phillip insisted that before she could be allowed to join their conversation group that she must dance with him, and Jane laughed at the playful ultimatum as he led her to the dance floor. Imogene was in too good a humor to sit still, so she went in search of a partner as well. Since Emmeline was sitting down to the harp for the dance, Mr. Butler obliged her as a dance partner.
While dancing with Jane, Phillip discovered from her that Imogene was an accomplished violin player, so he immediately encouraged her to play a solo. All the guests who heard her last public performance began to murmur amongst themselves, many of them deciding to head outside for some fresh air. Imogene only smirked and took up her instrument, the bow gliding gracefully over the strings. The notes of Greensleeves drew all guests back into the room, now murmuring their approval. Everything was going splendidly.
...Until her brother Anthony came into the room. He was covered in mud from head-to-toe and so inebriated that his legs swayed like blades of grass in a severe storm. His laughter echoed off every wall and interrupted her performance.
"Anthony!" Mrs. Cartwright gasped. "What happened to you?"
"I's jus' going out fer some fresh air," he said while still laughing. "I fell down, ‘n' Nell's still sitting in it."
Imogene stung with embarrassment. Her brother had gotten drunk, fallen in the mud, and brought her dear friend Nell down with him—the sister of the host! And the poor girl, probably covered in mud, was still outside, for fear of entering into further humiliation. In order to help her friend and to attempt to salvage her own reputation, she put away her violin and left the room to help.