The Earl, the Lady and the Song of Love by Fanny Finch
Chapter 28
Imogen found herself settling into her new life rather nicely. Of course, being a Countess and having an entire household to manage would take some getting used to. Still, it was not half as difficult as she had thought it would be.
The servants had welcomed her with open arms, gracious enough to gift her with knowledge that would help her better perform her duties as the Lady of the manor.
In the first few days, she had busied herself with learning their names and having a proper tour of the house. Sometimes, Nigel had been her guide. Other times, Mr. Whitcombe, the butler, had done the honors.
In her free time, she filled her mind with books from the large library, soiled her hands with garden dirt, and got some painting done. The latter was especially her favorite pastime.
This was why when Lewis arrived to pay her a visit only a week after he had walked her down the aisle, he met her in the field while she was making flawless finishing strokes on a painting.
“I see that you are still working on that piece,” he said as he reached her.
She stopped then, smiling as she turned to him. “It is taking longer than I thought it would. A lot has happened in my life since I started on it.”
Lewis opened his arms wide, letting her know he did not mind whether she was covered in hues of red and blue. She managed to take off her apron before stepping into his embrace, careful not to stain him as well.
“You do not look very happy to see me,” he observed aloud as she pulled away after a bit. “Is anything the matter?”
Imogen’s heart fluttered. How had Lewis so easily picked up on her sad demeanor? No one else had seemed to notice. She had thought she was doing a good job at fooling everyone. Well, they did not know her like her brother did.
Having no wish to cause him to worry, she deepened her smile. “Of course, I am happy to see you. I am only a little tired is all. I did not know you would be arriving so early. I would have put this off until tomorrow.” She had received his letter informing her of his intention to visit two days before.
Lewis said nothing for a moment. He simply took his time, looking at her as though trying to decide whether or not to believe her. She had no inkling what his answer was, as she could not bring herself to look him in the eye, lest he really saw the truth.
Whether he believed her or simply decided to let it go, she knew not. However, when he spoke again, the concern was gone from his voice.
“I thought it would be best to come while the day is young. I have business to attend to later in the evening. I must return to London before noon if I hope to make my meetings.”
She nodded, understanding.
“Shall we sit in the garden? Or would you prefer the drawing room?”
Lewis shrugged. “I like it here. Fresh air, warm sun, wonderful company.”
His last words warmed Imogen’s insides. “Very well then, I shall have one of the servants bring us tea. Is anyone there?”
It was Elena who answered, and in another moment, she was disappearing into the house.
Expecting her to return soon, Imogen led her brother to the sitting area.
“I take it Kensington is not home?” Lewis asked.
She shook her head. “He is out in the fields, checking on the crops, I believe. Perhaps he shall return before you leave.”
“How is he?”
“Very well,” Imogen answered softly.
“And you, dear sister? Are you well?” There was that concern yet again.
Imogen shifted in her seat, trying hard to make it less evident that she was avoiding her gaze. How could she tell him that her husband had not slept in her bed nor invited her to his once?
How could she explain that he treated her with the courtesy one would treat a mere acquaintance? He was polite enough, yes, but no more than that. He rarely smiled at her; his eyes no longer twinkled when he spoke with her.
Since the touring ended, she often saw him three times daily. At breakfast, at lunch, and at dinner. Whatever other meetings occurred were often a result of chance. Sometimes they would run into each other in the hallway, the corridors, or the stairs. He would simply give her a polite smile, a curt nod, and continue on his way.
It was breaking her down emotionally. She knew it would only be wise to do as her aunt had advised. However, she was scared. If he truly wished to address whatever it was that was happening, he would have raised the matter between them. Alas, all she got was silence.
The Nigel she had married was not the man she had met all those weeks ago. He was certainly not the man who had charmed his way into her heart.
He was as good as a stranger. A stranger with whom she shared a roof.
If she were to tell Lewis any of this, he would be furious. He had asked her to be certain she was making the right decision, several times. Questioned if she was indeed ready to go into a loveless marriage even until the last moment. Her answer had always been yes.
What use were her regrets now? No, she could not tell Lewis. There was nothing he could do for her anyway. She had said her vows. It was now her cross to bear alone.
“Of course, very much so.”
“Then married life has been good to you?”
Imogen knew he was asking if Nigel had been good to her. He had, had he not? Despite his cold treatment of her, he saw to it that she was comfortable at all times. So, it was not entirely a lie when she answered,
“Yes. If I had known it would be this wonderful, perhaps I would have considered getting married sooner.”
Lewis groaned at this. “Any sooner and you might have as well been betrothed when you were naught but a babe in the cradle.”
She chuckled. It was happy, genuine, and she realized how much she had missed her family.
As though he could read her thoughts, he sighed. “I have missed you, Imogen. I did not think it would happen so soon, but home is not the same without you. It is eerily quiet, void. Every day, I wake up knowing something is missing. I wish you could have stayed with us a little longer.”
Imogen’s heart filled with warmth, and she swallowed the tears that were threatening to spill out. “Oh, Lewis. I miss you too. You and Father. I love it here in Kensington, but home will always be home and family will always be family.”
Lewis reached across the table for her hands, squeezing as he took it in his. “You are welcome to visit anytime, you know?”
She bobbed her head. “As are you and Father. How is he?”
“Very well. He will not say it, but I know he really misses you. I see him casting longing glances at your favorite chair whenever we dine. Its emptiness makes it impossible to pretend you are still with us.”
Imogen heaved a sigh. She understood. There were times when she had found herself remembering a typical breakfast with her father and Lewis whenever she dined with Nigel.
“I suppose the first days are often the hardest,” she said after a bit, clearing her throat.
Lewis nodded. “That certainly holds some truth.” There was a small pause before he continued. “What do you think of Father remarrying?”
Imogen’s eyes widened. She had not been expecting the question.
“Has he found someone?” she asked.
Lewis was quick to shake his head. “I do not think it is even something he has begun to consider. I imagine he might not wish to, at all. We both know how much he cherished mother. She was his one true love.”
“Yes, yes. So, what is this talk if he does not wish for it?” She was curious.
“I am afraid of him being lonely, seeing as I will be leaving the townhouse soon.”
Imogen was quite taken aback to hear this. “Leaving soon? Why?”
Lewis smiled then—it was more of a blush. Imogen found herself even more curious to hear his story.
“I think it will not be long now before I too say my nuptial vows, Imogen. I met someone. I did not want to tell you as you were busy with wedding preparations and I was trying to ascertain my feelings. We finally confessed to each other. I want to be with her, Imogen. I wish to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it has only been a few weeks, but I have no doubt that she is the one. I plan to ask for her hand soon.”
Imogen’s eyes welled up, and she could not bring herself to care when a tear dropped freely. She rose to her feet, walked to her brother, and put her arms around him.
Words could not describe her joy.
“Lewis! There is no such thing as too soon where love is concerned. When you know, you just know. I am so happy for you!”
His arms went around her too, and they remained that way for another moment before she finally pulled away.
Wiping her cheeks, she broke into a small chuckle.
“I can hardly believe it. It is wonderful news. But for the evidence in your eyes, I would have reckoned you were jesting. Ah, I was right. You refused to consider marriage because you were too busy protecting me. Now that you have seen me settled with a good man, your heart has finally found love! Pray tell me, who is this lady? I am sure she has no inkling just how blessed she is to be loved by you. Not to worry, I will do well to make her see the truth.”
Lewis chuckled. It was such a happy sound. Now that she thought of it, he did look different. His eyes were shining brighter, his cheeks were flushed pink, a smile ever danced on his lips.
It was the look of a man in love.
It occurred to her then, that perhaps, it was the look Lady Cheshire and her aunt had seen on Nigel’s face. Imogen wondered why she had been blind to it, when she had been able to tell right away with Lewis.
She was soon distracted from her thoughts as her brother began to tell her all about Miss Sapphire Allen, the daughter of Viscount Willsbury.
The more she listened and watched while he spoke, the more she was convinced that Nigel must have cared for her. One too many times, she had seen that same look in his eyes, his lips curved in an identical smile. What then could have gone wrong?
What had happened on that night of the engagement ball? She needed to know because that was when everything had changed.
“She sounds wonderful, Lewis,” she said as her brother finished.
“That she is. If all goes well, you will get to see for yourself why I am so smitten.” He paused to seek his pocket watch. As soon as he took a look, he continued. “Ah. It is just as I thought.” He put it back into his pocket. “I am afraid I must be on my way,”
“So soon?” Imogen asked. She was not ready to have him leave.
Alas, he nodded. “I will visit again before you know it. I promise.”
She knew he would keep his word. “I shall be meeting your Lady soon, yes?”
He stood. “As soon as she agrees to be my wife. I will arrange a dinner between our families. You will love her, I can just tell.”
A smile stole across her lips as she too rose to her feet. “I have no doubt. As for Father, I suppose you shall have to see what he thinks about taking another wife. I think it is only fair that he, too, gets a companion. A long time has passed. I believe it is what Mother would have wanted, too.”
“I shall let you know how it goes,” Lewis assured.
He turned to leave then but something caught his eyes, causing him to freeze in place.
“You started that painting before meeting Kensington, did you not?”
Imogen nodded. “Yes. Why?”
“You said you did not know what it was you were painting, you just were.”
“The brush was leading me, yes.”
“Fascinating.”
Brows furrowed, she too turned to the canvas to see what he was speaking of.
“The painting? I would say it is. It appears I have improved.”
“Indeed, you have, but that is not what I speak of.”
She turned to him. “Oh?”
“You do not see it, do you? The people dancing. It is you and Kensington. I wonder if your mind changed its course after meeting the Earl, or if this was always your fate.”
Imogen immediately returned her attention to the painting as those words filled her ears. This time, she really looked; that was when she saw it. Her jaw dropped in awe. It was indeed herself and Nigel, but there was more.
How could I not have realized it all this time?
She shook her head. “I do not think my mind changed its opinion, Lewis. This was what it always wanted me to paint. You might not believe this but that night at dinner was not the first time I met Nigel. I had seen him before, in my dreams. I did not know it then, that it was him.” She swallowed. “It was just like this, at a ball. I was wearing that dress and he that suit. We danced into the night like old soulmates”
Her head was spinning, and her heart marveled at the wonder of it all.
“How could I have dreamed of someone I had never seen? It only means one thing, Lewis. This is fate, Nigel and I. Our love was written right from the start.”
And if it was, that meant they had been made for each other. Her to love him and he to love her. In that case, there was hope still.
She almost laughed out for joy.
Yes, there is hope!