Read Online A Change of Fortune by Sandra Heath - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sandra Heath
Tags: Regency Romance
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think you are very misguided in your choice of confidante. Nadia Benckendorff is an adventuress, and her breeding and background shouldn’t blind you to that fact. She has come to London solely to find a husband.”
“Isn’t that what every woman wishes to do?” she countered. “Isn’t that why I was launched upon society?”
“It isn’t quite the same thing, and you know it.”
She stopped dancing then. “You cannot love me if you say such things about my dearest friend.”
“Imogen, you aren’t being fair,” he said, drawing her hand through his arm and leading her from the floor before attention was drawn to the friction between them.
She halted by a column, drawing away from him once more. Her cheeks were still a little pink and she wasn’t yet prepared to be mollified. She was too angry with him to be reasonable, and she was determined to make him give in, even though she knew full well that on this occasion, as on many others, she was the one who was in the wrong. Her voice was haughty. “You may speak of fairness, Guy de Lacey, but are you being fair yourself? If you despise Nadia and the Lievens so very much, you shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to come here tonight.”
“I accepted because you begged me to,” he reminded her.
She drew herself up furiously then. “So, it’s all my fault, is it?”
He sighed inwardly, for she was quite impossible when she was in this mood. He had no desire to quarrel, but she was making any other course very difficult indeed. He tried again, putting his hand gently to her cheek and smiling. “No, my darling, nothing’s your fault—in fact I really cannot imagine why we’re arguing.”
She looked sharply away. She didn’t want to accept the olive branch. The argument was outwardly about Nadia, but she was also angry with him on another count—his attitude toward his niece, Stella de Lacey. The girl was impossible, and Imogen was determined to be rid of her for all time, but all she’d so far achieved was the promise that the brat would be sent to the seminary for a few weeks, with a view to her returning home in time for the betrothal! That didn’t suit Imogen at all, although she’d managed to hide the fact adequately enough behind a screen of concern about the child’s welfare. Guy loved his niece and took his responsibilities as her guardian seriously. He’d been loath to agree to send her to the seminary; indeed he’d only been persuaded to a temporary measure after yet another bitter argument and floods of reproachful tears from his future wife. As Imogen deliberately reminded herself about all this, she was making herself angry all over again, but then, quite unexpectedly, a sudden thought struck her. When Stella was sent to the seminary after Christmas, Miss Hart would be requested to send Guy frequent reports on her conduct, a favorable report being necessary if the girl was to return home. It would be a simple enough matter to persuade Miss Hart to send only favorable reports, for the headmistress would be willing enough to please her favored ex-pupil. If Stella was apparently not mending her ways in the slightest, Guy would be placed in a difficult, if not impossible, position. Stella had been told that she was being sent to the school because her behavior was impossible and unacceptable; he could hardly capitulate in the face of out-and-out defiance! Imogen’s fan tapped thoughtfully, and then she smiled at him, She would have her way yet. “Forgive me,” she said softly, slipping her hand into his and moving closer. “I’ve been disagreeable tonight, I’m always disagreeable when I have a headache.” She lowered her eyes in a way calculated to look conscience-stricken.
“A headache? You should have told me earlier,” he said in concern. “Would you like me to take you home?”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly, for that was the last thing she wished. “Perhaps we could sit for a while in the orangery?”
“Of
“Isn’t that what every woman wishes to do?” she countered. “Isn’t that why I was launched upon society?”
“It isn’t quite the same thing, and you know it.”
She stopped dancing then. “You cannot love me if you say such things about my dearest friend.”
“Imogen, you aren’t being fair,” he said, drawing her hand through his arm and leading her from the floor before attention was drawn to the friction between them.
She halted by a column, drawing away from him once more. Her cheeks were still a little pink and she wasn’t yet prepared to be mollified. She was too angry with him to be reasonable, and she was determined to make him give in, even though she knew full well that on this occasion, as on many others, she was the one who was in the wrong. Her voice was haughty. “You may speak of fairness, Guy de Lacey, but are you being fair yourself? If you despise Nadia and the Lievens so very much, you shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to come here tonight.”
“I accepted because you begged me to,” he reminded her.
She drew herself up furiously then. “So, it’s all my fault, is it?”
He sighed inwardly, for she was quite impossible when she was in this mood. He had no desire to quarrel, but she was making any other course very difficult indeed. He tried again, putting his hand gently to her cheek and smiling. “No, my darling, nothing’s your fault—in fact I really cannot imagine why we’re arguing.”
She looked sharply away. She didn’t want to accept the olive branch. The argument was outwardly about Nadia, but she was also angry with him on another count—his attitude toward his niece, Stella de Lacey. The girl was impossible, and Imogen was determined to be rid of her for all time, but all she’d so far achieved was the promise that the brat would be sent to the seminary for a few weeks, with a view to her returning home in time for the betrothal! That didn’t suit Imogen at all, although she’d managed to hide the fact adequately enough behind a screen of concern about the child’s welfare. Guy loved his niece and took his responsibilities as her guardian seriously. He’d been loath to agree to send her to the seminary; indeed he’d only been persuaded to a temporary measure after yet another bitter argument and floods of reproachful tears from his future wife. As Imogen deliberately reminded herself about all this, she was making herself angry all over again, but then, quite unexpectedly, a sudden thought struck her. When Stella was sent to the seminary after Christmas, Miss Hart would be requested to send Guy frequent reports on her conduct, a favorable report being necessary if the girl was to return home. It would be a simple enough matter to persuade Miss Hart to send only favorable reports, for the headmistress would be willing enough to please her favored ex-pupil. If Stella was apparently not mending her ways in the slightest, Guy would be placed in a difficult, if not impossible, position. Stella had been told that she was being sent to the school because her behavior was impossible and unacceptable; he could hardly capitulate in the face of out-and-out defiance! Imogen’s fan tapped thoughtfully, and then she smiled at him, She would have her way yet. “Forgive me,” she said softly, slipping her hand into his and moving closer. “I’ve been disagreeable tonight, I’m always disagreeable when I have a headache.” She lowered her eyes in a way calculated to look conscience-stricken.
“A headache? You should have told me earlier,” he said in concern. “Would you like me to take you home?”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly, for that was the last thing she wished. “Perhaps we could sit for a while in the orangery?”
“Of
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