Silk And Seduction Bundle 2. Louise Allen

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СКАЧАТЬ Mildenhall was mercifully silent all the way back from the park. Nor had she, in the end, voiced one more objection to his threat to make a formal offer for her hand.

      ‘Well?’ her aunt asked her the minute Imogen trudged in through the front door. ‘Is the matter resolved? What did he say?’

      Imogen drooped into the drawing room and sank onto a chair. ‘He asked me to marry him,’ she admitted.

      Her aunt shrieked, clapped her hands to her cheeks and collapsed into another chair.

      ‘I know,’ said Imogen, shaking her head. ‘It’s unbelievable.’

      But her aunt had recovered from the initial shock, and had leapt to her feet, beaming with pleasure. ‘Oh, Imogen. Congratulations! Well done!’

      It did not occur to her aunt, thought Imogen with resentment, that she might have turned down such a flattering offer. Nor her uncle, who breezed into the dining room that evening, positively gleeful over what he termed ‘Imogen’s conquest.’ The atmosphere at the table was more convivial than Imogen could ever remember it being since she had gone to live there. She had finally, she observed with a sinking heart, managed to do something they approved of.

      Drat the viscount for being right about this! She did not have the heart to disappoint them. In the end, with what her aunt declared was a becoming show of modesty, Imogen had bowed her head and accepted her uncle’s congratulations in a muted voice.

      ‘His Lordship will be coming to dine tomorrow night, so that we may all discuss arrangements,’ her uncle informed them both as he sawed off a generous portion of game pie and tipped it onto his plate. ‘Captain Bredon will accompany him.’

      ‘Captain Bredon?’ Lady Callandar echoed in astonishment. ‘You have invited him to dine?’

      Imogen felt as surprised as her aunt looked. But Lord Callandar quashed any further objections by stating, ‘His Lordship is bringing him, as his guest.’

      ‘Oh, well, in that case, of course…’ her aunt trailed off, bowing her head over her plate in dutiful submission.

      Imogen was sure her aunt would never have raised any objections to having her stepbrother to dine, had she ever plucked up the courage to risk rousing her uncle’s displeasure by inviting him. It had only been surprise that had made her seem to question her husband’s choice of dinner guest. But apparently, the fact that Rick numbered a viscount among his closest friends now outweighed the ignominy of his humble birth.

      Lady Callandar did look somewhat anxious when Rick breached all codes of etiquette the minute he entered the house—striding into the drawing room and enveloping Imogen in an enthusiastic hug. Fortunately, her uncle was too busy fussing around the viscount to even notice.

      ‘I am so pleased for you, Midge,’ Rick grinned. Then he leaned and whispered in her ear, ‘You will like being married to Monty. Always thought the pair of you would suit.’

      Imogen guiltily disentangled herself from his embrace. It was hard to know which was making her more uncomfortable; deceiving her brother or exposing her aunt to one of her uncle’s tirades, by indulging in what he would term unacceptable behaviour in his drawing room.

      Her aunt, seeing how uncomfortable she was, gamely tried to make light of the situation by swatting Rick playfully with her fan, and saying, ‘You are not in France now, Captain Bredon. We cannot have these continental habits creeping into our drawing rooms.’

      Rick backed off, muttering apologies, a dull flush on his cheeks.

      Imogen wished there was something she could say to smooth things over. It was not Rick’s behaviour she found difficult. It was the situation with the viscount.

      She schooled her features into an expression of polite welcome as she made her curtsy to Viscount Mildenhall.

      He bowed over her hand, the epitome of a courteous suitor, but there was a look of such cynical amusement in his eyes as he straightened up that Imogen wished she dared swat him with her own fan.

      She mastered the impulse, out of consideration for her aunt’s feelings, and the evening proceeded along utterly conventional lines.

      ‘Do you have a date in mind for the wedding, my lord?’ asked her aunt, as they took their places at the table.

      ‘Before the week is out,’ replied Viscount Mildenhall tersely. ‘When Captain Bredon will be rejoining his regiment.’

      ‘Oh, but that will leave no time to purchase bride clothes!’ wailed Lady Callandar.

      ‘But you have bought me so many pretty clothes already,’ Imogen pointed out.

      ‘Indeed,’ Viscount Mildenhall put in smoothly. ‘Miss Hebden is a credit to your good taste. She always looks quite…lovely.’

      The telling pause as he sought for a suitable epithet to describe her appearance had Imogen grinding her teeth. He did not think she was lovely at all. Though she might be the only one who noticed, he had as good as said that anything praiseworthy about her appearance was due to her aunt’s good taste, not the raw material she had to work with!

      However, on one thing they were in agreement. ‘I do want to marry before Rick’s furlough is over,’ she put in, though it almost killed her to appear to side with the viscount. ‘It will mean so much to have him to walk me down the aisle.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous, niece!’ blustered Lord Callandar. ‘I shall be giving you away. You are living under my roof and I am supporting you. Captain Bredon is not even a blood relative!’

      ‘Forgive me, Miss Hebden,’ put in Viscount Mildenhall in a voice that, though quiet, managed to cut straight through her uncle’s hectoring tones, ‘but I have already appropriated Rick for my groomsman.’ He turned then to her aunt. ‘And I am sorry to rob you of your shopping expedition, too, but I have promised my father to return to Shevington as soon as is humanly possible. However—’ and he turned on his most dazzling smile ‘—we will be returning to town after a suitable interlude, and at that time my bride will require a whole new wardrobe to befit her new station in life. I am sure she will wish to involve you in carrying out the requisite purchases.’

      Both her aunt and uncle subsided, vastly pleased with the viscount’s suggestions.

      Only Imogen still felt disgruntled. Nobody was making any concessions to what she wanted. It felt as though everyone she loved was ranged against her, on the viscount’s side.

      But worst of all, it had just hit her that she was going to become a viscountess. The notion was so absurd, she did not know whether to laugh or cry.

      Since she was at the dinner table, she naturally did neither, but let the conversation flow round her without any further input.

      When the ladies withdrew, her aunt wasted no time in letting her know she had erred, yet again.

      ‘I know I have told you, time and time again, that it is not proper to display too much emotion in public, but I really think, on this occasion, that it would be permissible to look just a little pleased at your great good fortune. Your demeanour at table could have been interpreted as positively lukewarm.’

      Imogen obediently mustered up a wan smile and, when the СКАЧАТЬ