He rubbed his jaw. “Well, I suppose most of my acquaintances would, but I would have thought the material somewhat broad and, perhaps a trifle vulgar, for a woman your age.”
“Vulgar?” Imogen laughed and turned away, covering her mouth. “They are subjects one hears spoken of everyday. How can the truth be vulgar?”
“Yes, but surely your brother doesn’t approve of you reading that man’s work,” Peter continued.
Imogen turned and the look she leveled at Peter should have sent him scurrying. Abigail sighed. Peter should know better than to lecture Imogen. She would do exactly as she pleased regardless of his opinion. Abigail quickly stepped between them. “Perhaps what my brother thinks on the subject of K.L. Brahms could be kept for discussion until after we dine.”
A throat cleared at the door and Simpson showed David in.
He smiled warily. “Am I interrupting?”
Abigail’s breath caught. A blush heated her cheeks as she stared across the room’s expanse. David’s London finery filled the space so completely he made her brother’s attire seem terribly shabby and outdated.
“David. I mean Mr. Hawke. We didn’t hear your knock.” She rushed forward to welcome him with a slightly unsteady curtsey. He was so handsome. His smile as he bowed made her heart tumble over quite alarmingly. It was all she could do to r
emain still.
“So it would seem.” He turned to Imogen. “For the record, Miss George, my favorite K.L. Brahms title is The Mischievous Miss. Very witty. I recommend it to all my clients in need of a book to cheer them.”
Imogen’s smile widened. “It’s very difficult for me to admit to a favorite. I love them all,” she boasted.
It was terrible to be the only one in the room with no idea what they were talking about. Peter would not allow her to read the author’s books without his permission. The K.L. Brahms section of his bookcase he’d deemed inappropriate for a woman her age. But if Imogen read them, then she would, too. She would take David’s advice and start with the book he recommended. It would give her something to talk about with him when they next met.
The gentlemen made small talk and Abigail drew closer to Imogen. “Thank you for providing a distraction. I didn’t know you read K.L. Brahms. You never mentioned reading the author before.”
Imogen’s smile was sincere. “I’ve read all sixteen editions.”
“Sixteen?” Peter interrupted. “There are only fifteen published and it’s been a good long while since the last. I was starting to think he’d given up writing.”
“My mistake. It must be fifteen,” Imogen assured him, but something in her manner did not seem truthful to Abigail’s way of thinking. But with Peter now hovering and wanting to talk of this Brahms fellow again, she’d have to wait until they were alone to ask.
As Peter and Imogen discussed the books at length, Abigail eased away. They were really quite passionate about the stories in question and it was hard to understand the topic when she hadn’t a clue as to the subject matter.
David left them to the discussion and drew closer to her. “I understand you’ve been calling on Mrs. Metcalf recently. That was very kind of you.”
“Yes.” Abigail met his gaze. “She was quite lost without her husband for a good number of weeks. His passing was peaceful. He was there for dinner and gone before breakfast, she said.”
“Metcalf was entirely without fuss. It was one of the things I admired about him. I called on her today. She had her daughters and grandchildren visiting.”
Abigail smiled. “Her family wishes her to move to Hove soon but she will not go. She says Brighton is the only place to be.”
As she held David’s gaze, a warmth invaded her chest. She was very fond of him. She might even have fallen in love. The realization made her want to throw her arms about him and never let him go again. But he was only here for a few days more. After that, she’d have to wait a year to see him again. That was simply too long. But how could she arrange any better? She bit her lip, thinking it over. Peter’s situation cast a pall over all her plans. Would they even be living here when summer came round again? Would David feel inclined to visit her elsewhere once his business with Peter was done?
“Do you agree with her?” David’s low pitched question caused her insides to jump.
“I do love Brighton.”
But she didn’t know if she could wait an entire year just for another chance to see David. Who knows, maybe when he was away in London he had a lady hoping to see him. She did not like the idea of losing him to another. And she certainly didn’t want him kissing someone else.
“What’s the matter?” he asked quietly.
“London is simply too far away from Brighton.”
A look of agreement crossed his face. “I was thinking precisely the same thing, but it is not possible to move the great city based on only a wish.”
“Then perhaps it is time to move the people.” A movement at the doorway caught her eye, a sign that dinner was ready to be served. She winked at David, a very bold move to be certain given her brother stood several feet away and hurried to catch Imogen’s arm.
As they gathered in the dining room, she hoped tonight’s dinner would prove to David she was worthy of his notice. She wished with all her heart that he’d be so impressed by her skills as a hostess he would want her for his wife.