Imogen didn’t hear the rest. A loud ringing had started up in her ears, drowning out all else. The entrance hall suddenly began to tilt about her. She reached out toward a table to keep herself from toppling.
Immediately Mariah was at her side. She put an arm about her to steady her.
“Imogen, are you all right?” she whispered frantically in her ear. “You know he is not here for me.”
Lady Tarryton hurried over, oblivious to Imogen’s near collapse. “Mariah, get upstairs at once. Lord Willbridge will be out any minute and you need to look your best.”
Just then, however, they heard a door opening and the sharp click of boots on the polished marble floor. They all turned in the direction of the sound just as Caleb strode into view.
“Ladies,” he said, gifting the group with a melting smile. He approached, bowing over Lady Tarryton’s hand. “My lady, I thank you for your hospitality.”
“You are not leaving so soon?”
“I’m afraid so. Though I hope to see you all tomorrow.”
Imogen watched the exchange mutely. Her memories were nothing to seeing him in the flesh. Her eyes drank him in, travelling over his slightly mussed hair, his broad shoulders, the long, lean length of his legs. But no, she could not do this again. He should not be here. She had told him to stay away. She clutched onto Mariah, dreading when he finally turned to her.
“Oh, my lord,” their mother was saying, “as you see my daughter Mariah is here. She has just returned from her walk, and so your timing is impeccable.”
Caleb dutifully bowed toward her sister. “Miss Mariah, as always it is a pleasure.” He then turned toward Imogen. And everything stopped. The heat in his eyes stole the very breath from her lungs.
“And your eldest as well,” he murmured, advancing on her.
“Oh, yes, Imogen. Say hello to his lordship.”
But Imogen could only stare as Caleb came and stood before her. She was vaguely aware of Mariah’s arm slipping from her waist as her sister moved away. And then Caleb took up her hand, bending over it. His lips brushed her knuckles, the barest of touches. But the feel of his mouth on her skin made her knees weak with wanting.
“Miss Duncan,” he murmured, his pewter eyes fastening on her mouth as he straightened. “How lovely to see you again.”
And then he was gone. Imogen felt her lungs expand as she took a breath for what seemed the first time since the exchange started.
Caleb accepted his hat and gloves from the butler and bowed to them. “Until tomorrow.” With one final heated look at Imogen, he departed.
The three women were silent a long while after he left, staring blankly at the door.
“Well, my word,” Lady Tarryton said faintly. “That’s an odd way to greet your future wife.”
Mariah returned to Imogen’s side, linking arms with her. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, giving Imogen a small smile.
Their mother looked lost for a moment. Suddenly she straightened her shoulders. “Well, I will not sit around waiting for your father. Come along, girls.”
She sailed from the hall. When Imogen made no move to follow, Mariah tugged her along.
“No,” Imogen said.
“Yes,” Mariah replied forcefully.
By the time they reached their father’s study, their mother was already storming through the door.
“Well?” she demanded.
Lord Tarryton glanced up from the papers on his desk. “Well what, my dear?”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “What did Lord Willbridge say?”
He smiled then, and looked directly at Imogen. She felt her heart drop into her toes.
“Why, he asked for Imogen’s hand.”
