“If you say so. However, this might not be so harmless to her reputation.”
Merton pointed to a distant bathing machine. “I can change there. Julia will be fine. Will you stand guard and keep everyone away. The race begins at eleven o’clock. I don’t want to be seen until the very last moment.”
Although Peter was eager to catch up to Imogen, he nodded and checked his pocket watch. “You have only a few minutes you know.”
Merton grabbed his arm and ushered him across the open beach. “I know. Shut up and allow me to change.”
Merton locked himself inside the little rolling cabin. Peter moved away from the door and scanned the crowd lingering on the pretty stretch of beach between them and the starting line. A goodly crowd had shown up for the sport. More than he imagined for such a scandalous turnout. He hoped they were kind to Miss Radley when she lost. It was only fun and not meant to be taken seriously.
He spotted a few familiar faces ahead but not the one he wanted. He was about to give up when he spied Walter, standing in conversation with Linus Radley. Imogen wasn’t with him, but she must be close by. He took a few paces forward and finally saw her, standing alone far away from Walter, hands clutched together at her waist. Damn Walter.
He tapped on the bathing chamber wall urgently. “I need to go.”
He turned without waiting for an answer and hurried across the coarse sand. He was half way toward her when a boy of about ten ran past Imogen on his way toward the seaside gathering. As the boy bumped into her, she spun and then a dog, likely the boy’s pet, knocked her off balance on the uneven, shifting ground.
Imogen wailed as she wind-milled her arms, but it was no use. Time slowed for him as she fell. Her head struck the earth. Peter ran toward her, desperately afraid that she’d come to harm. She lay winded with her eyes squeezed shut as if to hide.
“Imogen.” Peter touched her gently and raised her into a sitting position. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I am mortally embarrassed.”
He surveyed her, checked her head for signs of injury and concluded she would be fine. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Not mortally. We can recover from this. May I help you stand?”
She stuck out one hand. “Please.”
The crowd around them began to mutter as he eased her onto her feet and dusted sand from her gloves and arms. Peter scowled at them. “Nothing to see here.”
He placed himself between the crowd and Imogen to shield her from further scrutiny. “You look lovely.”
“I am surely covered in sand, sir. Everywhere a lady would prefer it should not be.”
Peter glanced about and spotted Miss Long approaching. He gestured for her to hurry. “Miss Long. Might we trouble you for assistance?”
Miss Long wrung her hands. “Oh, stars. What can I do?”
Imogen sighed. “Would you take me home?”
“Oh, but the race is about to start,” Miss Long protested. She darted a longing gaze at the distant crowd.
“Never mind what she said,” Peter advised Miss Long. “I’ll see her home myself after the race. But would you be a friend and reassure Miss George, from a lady’s point of view, that her appearance is flawless. She does not seem to believe me.”
Miss Long chuckled and inspected Imogen’s gown carefully. When she was done flicking away sand, she rubbed Imogen’s arm. “He told the truth. You look lovely. I have to go. Melanie expects me.”
When Miss Long rushed off, Peter curled Imogen’s arm about his and pressed his hand over it to reassure himself she was secure on his arm. “There now. Miss George, would you like to get closer to the action? I can see Miss Radley waving madly in this direction.”
“I’d like that very much, but do you know where Walter went?”
“Yes, I can see him now.” How could Walter have forgotten her? “Later, I’ll have words with him about how you came to be alone.”
“He left me with Miss Pease. Unfortunately, the responsibility was all too much.”
“I expect there was no room left in her head besides planning a dinner party in my honor.”
So he had improved his acquaintance with Miss Pease. Imogen tried to withdraw her hand from Peter’s grip but he refused to allow it.
“Not planning to attend, I can assure you of that.”
Imogen sighed. “Your allergies to lilac can be overcome. I’m sure if you explain, Miss Pease might change her scent to keep you from sneezing.”