by Ivy Brooke
"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.
------
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.
CHAPTER THIRTY
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."