Putting on Airs
Authors: Ivy Brooke
Putting on Airs by Ivy Brooke
Copyright © 2013 Regency Pen Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and
incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or actual events is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
While sitting at supper with her family, Imogene Cartwright made note of the peculiar silence, and prayed for it to last. She was not normally opposed to conversation with her family,
but she dreaded to think what her mother might say. Mrs. Cartwright had always been mindful of preparing her son and two daughters for the day that their betrothals would be met with marriage, trying to shape them into the spouses they would become, with—at times indiscreet—hints and reminders of their behavior. All three children had been betrothed since their infancy, and they were never allowed to forget it. However casual Mrs. Cartwright was in the past of such reminders, she had of late been more insistent and more frequent in bringing them to light, giving Imogene cause for worry and fear. She cared nothing for her betrothed—her cousin, Mr. Rupert Campbell—and was wary that the day of reckoning might soon be upon her.
Her wariness in fact brought her to break the welcomed silence to make her feelings known. At one-and-twenty years, the time of engagement felt dangerously close, and she finally felt old enough to express herself. "Mother..." In her nervousness, her voice was quiet. "I do not know that I wish to be betrothed to Mr. Campbell anymore."
Mrs. Cartwright dropped her fork. "What are you saying? You must marry Mr. Campbell; you cannot slight your own cousin after being over twenty years betrothed to him."
"But we do not get on at all. Last year when he visited, we could barely speak two full sentences to one another."
"Conversation is worthless in a marriage—it only leads to arguments."
Mr. Cartwright remained silent and continued eating, as if he were not listening. He was an intelligent, educated man of a respected rank, and of such confidence in that he often rebutted his wife's remarks purely for the intellectual entertainment. But after being so many years married to her, he had learned that no matter how he cornered her, it all came to nothing. Nowadays, he spoke hardly a word whenever Mrs. Cartwright was in the room.
"He is too old," Imogene continued to protest.
"Too old? He is only six and thirty, no more than fifteen years your senior."
"It will not do for me. How can we relate when we are from quite different generations?"
"Imogene, when you were first born, and I saw that red hair on your head, I foresaw no hope of you ever marrying. But here is a man—your cousin, no less—a fine young man who has agreed to marry you. If you refuse him, you are not likely to find another." Mrs. Cartwright, from the first day of her marriage to Mr. Cartwright, had been concerned of the rules of entailment, declaring only a male relative could inherit the property. Not wanting her lifestyle and home entailed from her upon her husband's death, she naturally depended upon having a son, and got her wish after first bearing Imogene, then Emmeline. However, just the same, she made it her arduous task to see that her daughters would marry so as not to live on in her home, and an early betrothal for each set her mind to rest.
"I believe her chances are good as any," Mr. Cartwright spoke up. "She has more to recommend her than her hair—it would not make any difference if it were blonde, it would still grey with age. It is her lasting qualities that will matter."
Ignoring her husband as if he had never spoken, she continued, "It is a good thing I have arranged for Mr. Campbell to come visit us."
"Visit?" Imogene worried aloud.
"As well as Mr. Butler for Emmeline and Ms. Archer for Anthony."
Emmeline listened on in silence. She was still shy and gentle at the age of twenty, and had no desire to take sides with any member of the family, if it meant siding against another. Anthony typically had little to do with any conversation that did not concern himself, as at the age of nineteen, he believed himself to be the center of importance.
"I forgot to tell you, mother," Anthony suddenly spoke up. "I had a letter from Clarice explaining to me that she will not be able to make the visit."
"She must come! I have not seen dear Ms. Archer for so long. I will write her at once and persuade her..."
"That will not do. She has taken ill."
"Then she can visit as soon as she is well."
"Will Jane be visiting?" Imogene asked.
"Jane? What for?"
"She is my friend, and Mr. Butler's sister."
"No, she will only get in the way. You are only to attend to Mr. Campbell and no one else. Did you not hear? His uncle just recently passed on and left him everything, including seven thousand pounds a year."
Anthony, upon hearing about their cousin's sudden wealth, went on to complain that his betrothed did not have as much. His mother consoled him with the possibility of Ms. Archer's brother dying and leaving her all his money. Imogene gave up on the conversation entirely and concentrated instead on her supper plate. At any length, she knew the law of betrothal stated that only mutual agreement could breach the proposal, and that argument on the subject was foolish.
CHAPTER TW
O
That night, just before bed,
Emmeline joined Imogene in her room to express that she also had doubts in marriage. Imogene was little surprised at her declaration—her younger sister had always procured her opinions from others. At first, she always went to her mother to assist in her in decisions, but for many years now, she attached herself to Imogene and acted by her example. Imogene only sighed at her sister's latest idea and took her hand.
"Why do you suddenly feel this way?"
"Well...you mentioned your doubts, and I started thinking..."
"Emmeline, you must stop copying my opinions as your own. You are twenty now—you need to form your own opinions."
"But why should I marry Mr. Butler—because I am forced to?"
"Because you love him, perhaps."
Emmeline's face colored, and as her face felt suddenly hot, she glanced away from her sister's eyes. "I hardly know if I do."
"Emmeline..."
"It has been so long. I mean, I have seen him so often that he rather appeals to me as a brother."
"He is modest, handsome, selfless, and amiable—therefore, he is no brother if Anthony defines the term. I see you both every time you are together; you want to marry, and so does he."
"Do you really believe it?"
"Yes. Now go to bed."
They kissed and took to their beds for the night, Emmeline feeling more secure in her sister's encouragement.
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, at the break of dawn, a servant entered Imogene's room to wake her. Imogene rose only to dismiss the servant, insisting it was too early to rise. Then her mother entered to scold her awake. Mr. Campbell was to arrive that day, and Mrs. Cartwright wanted the servant to devote as many hours as possible to making Imogene look presentable. Knowing that her mother could not be pacified, Imogene allowed the servant to do as instructed by her mistress.
Just after breakfast, her cousin arrived at the house. He was quite changed since Imogene saw him the year before—his hair was well-kempt in handsome gold ringlets reaching just near his green eyes, as opposed to the slicked-back look he used to wear; and he was smartly dressed in a fine green coat. Upon entering the house and seeing his cousins, he smiled charmingly and bowed much less shakily than he used to. Imogene amused herself with the thought that his newly-attained wealth had afforded him new manners, and dared to hope that his visit would not be as tedious as anticipated.
After they all made themselves comfortable in the parlor (with the exception of Anthony who instead desired to play a solitary game of billiards), Mr. Cartwright began the conversation by asking Mr. Campbell if his journey was pleasant, at which he responded that it was tolerably so. Mrs. Cartwright wanted to forgo the tedious foreplay.
"Congratulations on your newly-gained wealth, sir. It suits you well."
"Thank you, ma'am. I cannot believe I was ever without it."
"What do you think of it, Imogene?"
"I think it well," she began, "but I am certain your late uncle will be dearly missed."
"Beg your pardon?" Mr. Campbell asked. "Oh, my uncle; yes. To own the truth, I hardly knew him." Then he changed the subject altogether. "You are looking rather well today, Imogene. Come take the horses across the grounds with me."
Before Imogene could be persuaded to answer, the servant announced the arrival of Mr. and Ms. Butler, who immediately after entered. Mr. Butler was a fine man, though shy by nature. Even though being well-acquainted with the family of the house, he still would not speak unless spoken to, nor make himself welcome without invitation. His sister Jane, on the other hand, felt perfectly comfortable in the Cartwright house, and instantly moved forward to meet her friend Imogene, whose great relief in seeing her made her forget about Mr. Campbell for the moment.
"Mr. Butler, how delightful to see you!" Mrs. Cartwright greeted. "And Ms. Butler as well; what a surprise."
"Forgive me," Mr. Butler apologized swiftly, "but my sister expressed a wish in visiting Miss Cartwright."
"I shall not stay long," Jane assured.
"Not at all," Mrs. Cartwright replied composedly. "Of course you are welcome at anytime, Ms. Butler. Will you not sit down, Mr. Butler?"
"How was your journey?" Mr. Cartwright asked, having the topic well at hand.
"Quite pleasant, thank you, sir."
Sensing that they were of no use to the conversation anymore, Mrs. Cartwright decided the time was right to leave her daughters and their suitors on their own, so she quit the room immediately, requesting her husband to follow.
CHAPTER FOUR
Imogene immediately sat down with her friend to talk, denying any memory of her cousin being present.
"It has been so long, Jane, since we have talked."
"Yes, but I write every week."
"But you coming to see me today is an invaluable relief." Her eyes widened to signal her friend, who then looked over and saw Mr. Campbell sitting across the room.
"Oh! He is very handsome! Who is he?"
"Mr. Campbell."
Jane's voice hushed. "Your cousin? But he seems a fine gentleman."
"Perhaps from afar, but then he speaks."