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Authors: Raine Miller

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BOOK: The Muse
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“Yes.  She had been ill for years.  Her lungs.  Despite it, she was the best mother to us.  She loved us so much, and tried so very hard to get better.  Such a strong will she had, brave and never complaining, determined not to leave us alone without a mother.”

Imogene struggled to tell her story.  Her voice faltered and he knew it was hard for her.  He just held her hand and continued to trace over the piece of hair framing her face.

“John had left the north and had come to Royal Sothington Hospital for a course of study and research, taking on patients with Mamma’s particular illness as part of his investigation into the disease.  He prescribed modern treatments for my mother, believing they might help.  My parents were immediately taken with him and the relationship between them grew.  He became more than a doctor, he became a friend.  John and my sister, Philippa, were instantly attracted to one another—it was swift and mutual between them.  They fell in love, eventually marrying.  John’s research study ended and the time had come to return to Gloucestershire.  That time was just over a year ago from this day.  John and Philippa’s wedding was the last occasion my whole family was together in joy.  That day was the beginning of losing them…one by one.”

Graham felt the chill of the day seep inside him when she spoke of her pain but he couldn’t do anything but listen.  He wanted to know everything about Imogene, even the painful parts of her life.

“It’s so clear in my mind.  I felt miserable when Philippa left, but she was so happy with John and I was in turn happy for her.  Later I realized my parents were relieved that she was settled and contentedly married to a gentleman they respected and knew could provide for her.  He is a very wealthy man you know, and did not have to be a doctor for the living.  He helped to found the hospital at Wellick.  John is good in his heart and wants to help people and that is why he is a doctor.  Papa said he would not be surprised if John received a knighthood in his lifetime.”

Graham nodded.  “I know.  He is all that you say.”

“My parents knew Philippa would be protected and safe—one less daughter for them to worry about.”  Graham squeezed her hands, but still she kept her head down, pushing on with her story.  “My mother was doing well with the treatments John prescribed, or so it seemed.  She wanted to spend a lot of time with me.  Upon reflection, I believe she knew she was coming to the end and wanted to use the time left in the best way, by being together.  She insisted on a large party for my birthday.  It was the last party for her.  Mamma was firm I go to the dances and partake in the Season for my coming-out.  Her disease struck hard soon after and she was unable to rally.  There is nothing sinister in her passing and I accept it.  She fought valiantly, but her disease was stronger and it took her.  It hurts and I miss her, but know she loved me as a mother should.  I am grateful she no longer suffers on earth and is at peace.”

Imogene finally looked up at Graham.  Her expression just about did him in.  To have someone to confide in felt freeing even if it was painful.  At least he felt that way.  He rubbed his thumbs back and forth over her wrists and stayed quiet.  If he could touch her like this then he could be her strength.

Imogene forged on. “I tell you this only to make you understand the situation that had come to pass before the betrayal that changed everything.”  She paused before taking a deep breath.  “Have you heard of the gossip surrounding the death of my father, Lord Wyneham?  That he took his own life and attempted to make it look like a hunting accident?”

Graham did not flinch from her question even though he loathed to hurt her.  He closed his eyes for a second but nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Well, it is true.  All of it.  He did take his life.”  The words came pouring out of her now and the tears began to surface as she threw it out in the open.  “When the constables came and questioned me, I lied, saying it must have been an accident, for my father could never have done such a thing.  I lied to them when they asked if he had indicated what he meant to do.  Even when his sister, my Aunt Wilton, came for me, I did not tell.  She does not even know that he meant to do it.  In truth I have broken the law.  It is a crime…a sin, what I have done.  I was terribly frightened and all alone and I was so, so ashamed.”

When the words left her lips, Graham’s grip on her tensed and he felt his jaw tighten.  “Why were you ashamed,
chérie
?  His actions do not stain you.”  He used the same words she had said to him.

“Oh, but they do.  I was ashamed because my father did not love me enough to stay with me….”  Her voice broke and tears came, but she kept going.  “On that day, he gave me duties to attend to so I could not join in the hunting party.  I was much put out and he knew it.  He tried to comfort me, telling me he was proud of me for being a dutiful daughter and for my care of Mamma during her illness.  He kissed me and said I was so strong, and he knew I would be all right.  He said, ‘Find your happiness, Imogene.’  His words sounded odd at the time, but later I understood he was saying goodbye to me.”

Imogene paused for a moment like she was gathering strength to keep speaking.  His heart was breaking for the pain she had endured.  “Once the initial shock wore away, it was replaced by anger, betrayal, shame, and humiliation.  After losing my sister and my mother, my father killed himself because he was too weak to live without her.  He left me all alone knowing everyone else was already gone to me.  His child.  I was not important enough for him and that is the truth!”  She broke, her face bearing a grimace of pain so harsh before shaking into sobs.  “How could he do that to me?”  Pulling her hands away from his, she covered her face and wept.

Graham was stunned for just a second before protectiveness leapt forward.  He wanted to avenge her.  How dare Lord Wyneham treat his daughter with so little care?  Reacting instantly, he pulled her into his arms.  Closing his eyes, he forced himself to stay calm and strong for her.  One hand moved up to touch her hair, but mostly he just held her, letting her cry against him.  Finally he spoke softly, “I don’t know how he could have done that to you.  He must have been in incredible pain to consider it.  I’m sure he loved you very much.”

Many moments later, Imogene seemed to realize just where she was and stiffened.  She was in his arms, being held by him, comforted and cherished where she belonged.  He didn’t want to let her go, but he did anyway.  Her face flushed as she pulled away.  “I am so sorry to have imposed upon—”

He stopped her words with two fingers to her lips.  “
Never
be sorry for telling me.  You have been through so much and I grieve for the pain you have suffered in your losses, but you must listen to me now.  What happened was terrible and you’ve borne a heavy burden.  It was iniquitous for truth, and I hate that such a thing was laid upon you.  You’ve done nothing wrong or bad.  Brave is what you are—brave to bear the truth as you have done.  I believe it was right to keep that secret, though.  Don’t ever tell anyone else, Imogene.  It’s better if you don’t.  Do you understand?”

She nodded at him, her face streaked and red.

“Imogene, please know this of me—I am greatly honored you trusted me to tell of this painful, terrible thing that has happened to you.  I am glad it was
me
you told.  I hope you can understand and believe when I say, ‘You honor me.’”  He bored into her eyes with his own, reaching down deep, willing her to know he meant every word.

Graham felt something open up in his heart.  It was like a door opened and the wind rushed in.  Was it love?  Gratitude?   Relief?  Whatever it was, he wanted it, and he wanted more and more of it.  He wanted Imogene to be with him…always.

Leaning against his hand, she closed her eyes for a moment before responding, “I am grateful it was you as well.  I feel less burdened now.  Thank you for hearing me.  You are a good friend, Lord Rothvale.”

He caressed her cheek with his thumb.  “More than a friend, remember?
 
And after this day of painful confessions, do you think you could leave off with the titles?  I wish to be just ‘Graham’ to you.  Would that be all right,
chérie
?”

“Yes…Graham.”  The slight hesitation before she said his name was endearing.  He loved the sound of it coming off her sweet lips.

“Thank you,
chérie.

 
He stood up then, holding out his hand to her.  “I think we need to get out of this cold.  What say you to going back to the house for tea?  We might play cards afterward, perhaps Whist or
Vingt-et-un
?  Would you like that?”

Imogene looked up at him for a moment and then stood, taking his hand, a slow smile stretching until it became a grin really.  “Well, all right, but you should know that I will try to win.  I will probably win.” She finished authoritatively with more nods.

“Ah yes, competition motivates you.  That
is
a good thing though.  It will make everything so much more amusing.  You know, I think I have stumbled upon it.  The knack with you is to find out what it is that you want.  For once you know that, you’ll fight like the devil to win it.  Won’t you?”

“Yes, Graham, I
will
fight for what I want.”  Her words made him soar.

 

 

“THE wedding is tomorrow, and I must leave the day after,” Graham said.

“To London?”

“Initially yes, but then I must be on to Gavandon.  It is time to return to my home.  I’ve been away for so long.”

Imogene could not meet his eyes.  The reality of his words hurt.  They hurt badly.  He had been invited to dinner tonight and they were together in the garden. 
Leaving?  Not here any longer?
  Surely he would seek her out again when she went north to Philippa and John.  He would be only a few miles from her.  She felt things could not be finished between them.  From the day they had met, he had never wavered in his courtesy to her, asking permission to pay her court, even.  They had occasion to meet nearly every day since their introduction.  He had called on her at home and had dined with her family.  She had been invited to Kenilbrooke on several occasions.  They had ridden and walked together and enjoyed each other’s company in society and at church.  What was the purpose if he was just going to leave?  She kept her face down to maintain her composure.

“Will you not look at me?”

She did, reluctantly.  “You will be missed when you are gone, Graham.”

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that, Imogene.” A hand moved up to touch her hair.  “I don’t want to leave you either, but you’ll be at Wellick soon and I can come to you there.”

“I will be there in six weeks’ time.”  She made a brave attempt at a smile.  “I will look forward to you calling upon me then.”

Bringing both of her hands up, he kissed them back and forth.  “Six weeks feels like an age of time to me.  What do you think,
chérie
?”

“An age of time, for truth,” she answered with a breathy laugh.  “At least now I know you will miss me.”

He pulled her close, wrapping her into his arms.  “Imogene, what if we did not have to wait so long?  What if we could be togeth—”

“Imogene!  Time to go into the house now.”  Her uncle, Sir Oliver, interrupted them and guiltily they jumped apart.  “Lord Rothvale and I must talk together,” her uncle said firmly.

Blushing deeply, Imogene curtsied.  She looked up at Graham to find him beaming, giving her the kind of smile that was rare for him.

“Goodnight, Miss Imogene.”  He bowed, his smiling green eyes glowing in the moonlight.

SIX

 

I loved not yet, yet I loved to love…I sought what

I might love, loving to love.

 

St. Augustine   ~Confessions, AD 397-8

 

 

 

JULIAN
Everley and Mina Charleston were blessed with a remarkably mild day for their wedding.  When the bridal couple knelt together, and the words spoken, Imogene had cause to reflect upon the meaning of those words.  The bride and groom looked wonderful, but the man standing up for the groom was the only one Imogene could see.  She went to the wedding feast and dancing at Kenilbrooke Hall with a heavy heart under her smile, for she knew this was the last day.  Graham would be leaving Shelburne in the morning.

Exuberant guests feeling the effects of wedding punch made for a lively celebration at Kenilbrooke Hall despite her gloominess.  Graham danced with her as much as convention allowed but as soon as their set ended, he took her hand firmly and asked, “Imogene, I need to speak with you, alone.  Will you come with me?”  Her heart did a flip, her legs turned to jelly, but her head nodded, yes.

Outside, on the balcony, he took both of her hands into his and looked at her dead on.  “I must tell you something, but I think you might know already.  I think everybody knows.”  He shook his head a little.  “Regardless, I will speak from my true heart to you now.  My
chérie
, Imogene, you have captured my heart in these short few weeks.  I knew it the first time I saw you, and then, when we met that night at the ball.  The more I am with you, and the more I know you, the more I know you are the one for me.  I have no wish to be parted from you, but if I have the promise of you, I know I can bear the separation.”

Imogene leaned back upon the wall for support and closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to let his words fall over her, to feel every letter of them.  She opened her eyes and focused on his beautiful green ones.

“I have a question I wish to ask, but before I do, you must understand that I do not want your answer…yet. Tomorrow, I am obliged to leave, as you know.  I will come to you at Wilton Court before I depart, to bid you farewell and would have your answer then.  It is important to me that you take some time to reflect upon what I ask of you tonight, before you respond.  Can you do this for me,
chérie
?”

“I can.”  She nodded, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.

“Imogene, I want to marry you.  I offer myself to you with great affection and respect, and vow that my desire in this is with no other requirement than to allow me to care for you and to make a life together.”  He brought her hands up to his heart and pressed them over it.  “Will you be my wife, Imogene, my Lady Rothvale?”

Starting to speak, she stopped herself, biting her bottom lip to keep from answering.  “I will give you the answer tomorrow, as you have asked.”

He moved her hands from over his heart up to his lips and kissed the palm of each one.  “Do you understand why I am asking you to reflect upon my proposal before you give me your answer?”

“I think so, but tell me anyway.”

He let out his breath.  “I asked your uncle last night for his consent and he has given it, but I did make sure he understood that it is for you to decide, unequivocally.  Frankly, I am grateful he found us together in the garden last night, but you are a young woman, not yet of age, alone, and without parental guidance in this most important decision.  I am a good bit older than you, and could in a way, be seen as a guardian of sorts.  I would never wish, could not bear for you to feel—to feel that you have been passed along from your parents, to your aunt and uncle, and then finally on to me.  Everyone has good intentions.  They feel pleased to know you could be settled, and their guilt and sorrow for your loss are erased.  People are happy to see a pretty girl marry a rich man.  It makes them feel better about their own miserable lives.  But none of these are reasons for you to accept me.  I want you to accept me because you know
it is what
you
want, not because you have been influenced, or coaxed, or persuaded by the well-intentioned.  I want you to marry me because you know you want
me
.  And when you know, I will know it too.”

Imogene moved one of her hands out of his grasp and brought it up to the side of his face.  He closed his eyes for a moment and it felt to her as if he trembled under her touch.  “And you’re sure you want me?”

“I am sure.  That first day, when I saw you carrying in that lamb, and later at the ball when we talked, I knew without a shadow of a doubt you were the one for me.  Right away I knew you were the woman of my dreams, the one I hoped to find one day.  I want no other but you.  I love you, Imogene, and I want you to belong to me.”

“You do?”  Imogene nodded into his eyes.  She was not able to speak or respond beyond that simple effort. 
He loves me.

“I do,” he said solemnly, offering his arm, “shall we go back to the party then,
chérie
?” She let him lead her back inside to the eager expressions, the clapping, and the cheering of exuberant wedding guests.  Graham turned to her and whispered, “See?  Even now everyone assumes you have accepted me.  Please ignore them.  Let’s pretend we’re alone, and they are not here.  Keep smiling and putting your eyes on me,
chérie
.  It’s just us, you and me.  Better yet, it’s just us, staring into a crowd of people that look like sheep.”

She laughed silently at his words, and held onto his eyes.  She would remember his eyes in this moment.  His eyes told her everything she needed to know.

 

 

THE following day, Imogene prepared herself carefully to give Graham his answer.  For him, she chose a cream brocade dress decorated with brown embroidery, topped with a brown crochet Spencer jacket.  The jacket had a V-shaped neckline and was short-sleeved coming to just above her elbows.  The bottom of the waist ruffle and the edge of the sleeve were both finished with cream crochet.  Over that, she put on a long, cream, linen coat for warmth.  She left her hair down in long curls, pulling it all to one side, and secured with a ribbon.  A brown cameo on cream velvet was placed around her neck.  She applied her soft honeysuckle scent, checked her package for him, and also the letter.  Imogene was ready.

Cariss knocked at the door before bouncing into the room.  “You look beautiful, Imogene, and I am so happy for you.”  Imogene embraced her sweet cousin tightly.  “It is not such a great surprise that Lord Rothvale wants to marry you, though it is a relief to finally be able to speak of it with you.”  Cariss squeezed her hands.

“Was it so obvious to everyone, truly?”

“Oh, Imogene, you cannot say you don’t already know it.  Everyone with two eyes could see it and know it.  For God’s sake, the sky and the grass and the trees knew it.  Did you never wonder why everyone left the two of you alone?  They were loath to approach you when you were together, so lost you were in each other.  We did not dare.  And being proposed to at a wedding?  It was quite magical seeing the two of you, like a fairy tale really, and nobody wished to break the spell.  And now, the fairy tale will have a happy ending for you and Lord Rothvale, just as you both so richly deserve.”

Imogene hugged her cousin, felt the emotion and tried to control it for she did not want a tear-stained face at the moment.

“Cari, you are so dear to me. I wish for you to attend me at my wedding.  Will you?”

“It would be an honor.”  Cariss kissed her cheek.

Aunt Wilton interrupted them.  “He is here, Imogene, and you must come down now.”

Imogene looked at Cariss, took a deep breath, gathered her things, and went down with her aunt.  “Here she is,” Aunt Wilton announced, leading Imogene over to Graham, who stood next to her uncle in the drawing room.

He watched her approach, his eyes devouring her.  He bowed.  “Good morning, Imogene.”

She curtsied.  “Good morning, Graham.”  For the first time in public they both used only their given Christian names in the familiar address.

Smiling at her, she knew he’d caught the gesture.  “Will you walk in the garden with me?”

She nodded her answer mostly because she was busy looking at him.  He was so handsome in his clothes, not dandified, but masculine—long dark brown coat, brown waistcoat, green shirt and tall boots.  His hair was tied with a dark green ribbon today.  How in the world would she bear it when he left this afternoon?

Clasping her hand, he led her out of the house, into the garden and to a bench with no sides or back.  She sat with her legs off one edge; he sat with his over the other edge.  Setting down her things, she turned to him.  He took both of her hands into his. “You are so beautiful I can hardly speak for looking at you.”

“I feel the same way about you, and I am glad you think so.  I wanted to be beautiful for you today.”

 

 

“BUT you always are.”  Graham forced the question out of mouth.  “Do you have an answer for me to what I asked of you yesterday?”

Imogene looked down at their hands where he was holding them entwined.  He gentled his grip immediately, knowing he must have been holding her too tight without realizing.  He couldn’t help it though.  He was desperate.  Now he just wanted her answer so he could find some blessed relief.  He tilted her chin up gently with one finger so he could see those beautifully expressive eyes of hers.  If he could see into her eyes he would know—

“Graham, I want you to know that I
did
spend some time reflecting upon your words last night.  You said you did not wish for me to ever feel coerced to accept you, but only desired me if I knew that
you
were what I wanted.”

“Yes.”  He nodded.  This waiting was torture.  He really just wanted to kiss her and take her away somewhere very private and not come away until he had discovered every secret about her.

“Well, I do know what I want.”

Her eyes burned back at him.  “Tell me.”  He waited and soaked up the vision of her.

“I want you, Graham.  The title, the manor, the great estate, all mean far less to me.  I have had all of those things, and I will never be poor.  I know my father settled well on me, and I will never need to find a rich husband…just one that loves me.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.  And then because he could not stop himself from doing it, he brought his lips to her lips with just the lightest touch.  He felt a shiver run through her and wanted to do more, but now was not the time.  He pulled back and waited for her to continue.

BOOK: The Muse
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