An impish grin spread across her sister’s face. “I have ways of convincing him. He did not dare object. Besides, no member of the ton saw me in the dirt.”
Imogen laughed. “That would have been a good competition for my scandal,” she remarked. It was the first time she had mentioned itin such a lighthearted manner.
“We'd be known as the sisters who waltzed with scandal then.”
They laughed, and as their mirth receded, a wistful smile settled on Imogen’s face. She recalled how they had discussed what they would do in society in the years after their coming out. Imogen had gone on and on about how she would lead the women in fashion, and how she would be known for her use of bright colors. In retrospect, she realized those colors were a reflection of her dreams. She closed her eyes and turned her face up toward the sun. She was here to heal, and the shadows could only come to haunt her if she allowed them to. She desired — nay, required — happiness.
A moment later, she felt Emily’s hand touch hers and opened her eyes to see her beaming. “This is the first true smile I have seen you wear in a very long time,” she said softly.
Imogen smiled again. “I am glad to see you happy. And your praises for Kent’s salubrious qualities were not misplaced.” She had thoughtthat seeing her sister happy would openher wounds, but no such thing was happening. Instead, she was finding solace in the fact that one of the people she cared about the most was happy.
Emily’s eyes clouded with emotion. “I never found the opportunity to say this. If you had not secured your future with Harris, I never would have had the chance to meet Michael and marry him.” She gestured at the garden. “Thank you, Imogen.”
Overcome, Imogen drew her into her arms. Something good had come out of her sacrifice, which gave her more hope that she would one day be happy as well.
“I wish your happiness lasted longer than it did.”
Imogen shook her head without thinking, and she said, “Do not wish it.”
Emily pulled away with a puzzled frown. “Whatever do you mean?”
The burden of her secret weighed heavier upon her than before and she looked her sister in the eyes, ready to shed it.
CHAPTERFIVE
“My lady,” came a voice as Imogen was about to tell her sister the secret she had carried for years.
“What appears to be the matter, Mrs. Bowman?” Emily asked the housekeeper.
“You have yet to approve the day’s menu, my lady,” Mrs. Bowman replied after a curtsy.
“Oh! I nearly forgot about that,” Emily said with a laugh. “Would you like to return to the manor with me, Imogen?”
“I think I can hear the woods calling to me,” she replied; pointing at the thick forest in the distance, beyond the garden.
“There is a lake there you might like,” Emily encouraged before she left with the housekeeper.
Imogen released a slow breath when she was alone.She was determined to tell her sister what had happened in her marriage.
She thought to herself that the day was perfect for dipping her toes in that lake if she ever found it. Harris had never liked the country and had preferred to keep her in town. The few times she'd been able to escape to the countryside had been priceless. She was free to wander now, and a small smile crept into her features as she did so, the sounds of the birds chirping and the leaves rustling providing her with plenty to enjoy.
* * *
Colin’s brows rose when the stablehand led a gray Arabian stallion out of its stall. He reached to stroke its crest and it snorted pleasantly.
“That is Poseidon. He is a happy stallion despite his name,” Michael said proudly. “It is Prometheus you should be wary of for he has quite the temper.” He motioned to the stablehand. “Bring him out, Tim.”
“When did they arrive?” Colin asked – impressed with the horse before him.
“Last month. They came—“
An aggravated snort cut him off and he darted out of the way as the second stallion was brought out of its stall, its ears moving back and forth. It dug a hoof into the packed dirt and shook its head as though it was protesting their company.
“Prometheus, I presume?” Colin asked; approaching the beast with caution.
“Indeed,” Michael replied. “I have yet to ride him. I want him tamed first.”
“That is precisely why he is temperamental,” Colin observed; holding his hand out to him. “A horse like this possesses a surfeit of stamina. He requires vigorous activity.”