When she tried to step away, she found herself in a corner with his body blocking her only path to escape.
“That is inconsequential because I respect myself and ask you to respect my wishes,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You can have any man you want.” His breath held the smell of strong liquor. It was nauseating and she held her breath all the while thinking of ways to escape. “I am offering myself to you, Imogen.”
“I would never have you.” She pushed against his chest. “Not even if you were the only man in the world.”
He swiftly caught her hands and pulled her against him, forcing her to take extreme measures to free herself. With as much force as she could find under the circumstances, she kicked his shin. He hopped back in pain and only then was she able to push him away and remove herself from the corner.
“Oh, heavens!” someone gasped.
Imogen's head shot up to see a woman standing in the ballroom doorway. Her eyes glowed at the prospect of a scandal. Many faces appeared soon after, and loud whispers began.
“What happened?” someone asked.
“A tryst, evidently,” another replied.
Imogen wished the ground would swallow her wholeso she wouldn't have to face the shame that was about to befall her. Her mother pushed her way through the crowd to reach her andtook one look at Horace, who waswincing and trying to straighten up, before realizing what she needed to do.
“There is nothing to see here,” she said to the crowd then took Imogen’s hand and led her through the second door at the far end of the terrace.
Her father was summoned from the cards room and they left the house immediately.
* * *
“You may enter!” Imogen called after the knock at her door. It was mid-morning and she was by her window staring absentmindedly at the busy street.
Warner appeared – holding what appeared to be a gossip sheet and expressed a nervousness in her countenance. “Your Grace—” she began.
Imogen proffered her hand. “Let me see.” She had suspected they would report something that might harm her reputation after being seen with Horace last night. Her suspicion still did not prevent her stomach from twisting when she read:
After a year of mourning for her beloved husband, the Dowager Duchess of Murrendale graced our dear society with her presence. Said widow did not hesitate to express her desire to find a gentleman to entertain her and one could only guess Lord B's willingness to play that role, as they were seen in quite a tangle on Lady Burenstone's terrace.
Her fingers curled around the sheet, crumpling it. They had all but declared her a merry widow, on the prowl for a gentleman to keep her bed warm, which left her in a vulnerable position. Now every man without scruples would turn his eyes on her.
“May I offer a suggestion, Your Grace?” Warner asked; shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“You may.” Imogen looked up; stiff with regret and indignation. She should never have attended that soiree.
“Perhaps you should consider accepting your sister’s offer to spend the spring with her in Kent.”
She sighed and pressed her hand to her aching temples, the result of a lack of sleep the night before. Warner was right. Staying away from London until the scandal died down was a clever idea. As much as she disliked seeing her sister, it had become necessary.
“I shall consider it. Thank you for the advice, Warner.”
Warner smiled and curtsied. “You are most welcome, Your Grace.”
Several hours later, she gathered enough courage to face her parents and headed towards the drawing room downstairs. As she approached, she heard her name mentioned, which gave her pause.
“Arthur is keen to make an offer for her,” Barbara said. Another knot formed in Imogen’s stomach – she could never marry Arthur. They were utterly unfit for each other.
“She does not need to marry because of a scandal,” Aldrich responded, “and I do not consider what happened last night to be a scandal. Lord Bagshire is a cad.”
“Yes, but this will distress her. I know it. Oh, my poor daughter.” She could imagine her mother’s expression as she spoke.
“If Arthur offers to marry her, I shall allow her to decide what she wants. I doubt she would be inclined to marry a man such as him. Unlike her and Harris, they are not a match.”
Imogen decided to reveal her presence at that moment and to prevent further talk of her dead husband. She entered the dining room and sat beside her mother. “Yes, Father Lord Bagshire is a despicable cad indeed, however, that fact shall definitely not put a stop to the gossips. Emily wrote to me, inviting me to spend the spring with her in Kent. I reckon her invitation has arrived at the right time.”