important respect, so far as I can see.” Imogen gave him a wan smile. “I hereby release you from your promise, my lord.”
He scowled. “I beg your pardon?”
“It was wrong of me to expect you to assist me in my scheme.” Imogen studied the manner in which his sensitive, long-fingered hands cradled the Zamarian bowl. “You have quite convinced me that you are not cut out for this type of adventure and that I have no right to insist on your services.”
“I thought I made it clear that you are not going to get rid of me quite so easily, Miss Waterstone.”
“Sir?”
“I shall assist you in your plot. I may not be the man you believed me to be, Miss Waterstone, but I find myself consumed by a desire to prove myself something more than a milksop.”
Imogen was horrified. “Sir, I never meant to imply that I thought you a … a milks—”
He held up one hand to cut off her protest. “You have made yourself clear. You perceive me to be possessed of an overanxious, fainthearted temperament. I do not deny that there is some truth to that perception, but I’ll be damned if I will have you label me an out-and-out coward.”
“Sir, I would never have dreamed of labeling you a coward. A certain tendency toward nervous weakness is not something that should cause shame. It is no doubt a family trait, rather like that blaze of white in your hair. It is something over which you have no control, my lord.”
“Too late, Miss Waterstone. I have decided that I must fulfill my promise to your uncle. It is the only way I can retain even a few shreds of my pride.”
“I was appalled, if you must know the truth,” Imogen confided to Horatia two days later as they set out for London in a post-chaise. They were alone in the carriage because Matthias had left the previous day with the list of instructions that she had given him. “He is doing this to prove that he is not lacking in nerve. I fear I wounded hispride. I never meant to do it, but you know how I sometimes get carried away when I feel strongly about a matter.”
“I wouldn’t worry overmuch about Colchester’s pride,” Horatia said crisply. “He has more than enough arrogance to last him a lifetime.”
“I wish I could believe that, but I’m convinced he is possessed of rather delicate sensibilities.”
“Delicate sensibilities? Colchester?”
“I wore out my tongue attempting to dissuade him from assisting me, but as you saw, I had no success.”
“Colchester certainly seems determined to help you pursue this mad scheme. I wonder what he is about.”
“I just told you what he is about. He is attempting to prove himself a man of action. Anyone can see that he is no such thing.”
“Hmm.” Horatia adjusted the skirts of her carriage dress and leaned back against the cushions. She fixed Imogen with a thoughtful gaze. “In the beginning, I told you that your plan was dangerous in the extreme because I feared Lord Vanneck’s reaction. But I am now persuaded that involving Colchester is an even more reckless move.”
“Colchester is not dangerous.” Imogen wrinkled her nose. “Indeed, I only wish he were. I would not be so concerned. As it is, in addition to managing the details of my scheme, I shall be obliged to keep an eye on him. I must make certain that in his enthusiasm to prove himself, he does not get into trouble.”
Horatia stared at her niece askance. “You are going to watch over Colchester?”
“It is the least I can do under the circumstances.” Imogen gazed glumly out the window. “He is not at all what I expected, Aunt Horatia.”
“You keep saying that. Be honest, Imogen, your expectations were built upon a fantasy that you had concocted out of vapor and smoke.”
“That is not true. I developed my notion of his lordship’s temperament from the articles he wrote for the
Zamarian Review
. It only goes to prove that one cannot put much credence in everything one reads.”
Horatia peered at Imogen through her
He scowled. “I beg your pardon?”
“It was wrong of me to expect you to assist me in my scheme.” Imogen studied the manner in which his sensitive, long-fingered hands cradled the Zamarian bowl. “You have quite convinced me that you are not cut out for this type of adventure and that I have no right to insist on your services.”
“I thought I made it clear that you are not going to get rid of me quite so easily, Miss Waterstone.”
“Sir?”
“I shall assist you in your plot. I may not be the man you believed me to be, Miss Waterstone, but I find myself consumed by a desire to prove myself something more than a milksop.”
Imogen was horrified. “Sir, I never meant to imply that I thought you a … a milks—”
He held up one hand to cut off her protest. “You have made yourself clear. You perceive me to be possessed of an overanxious, fainthearted temperament. I do not deny that there is some truth to that perception, but I’ll be damned if I will have you label me an out-and-out coward.”
“Sir, I would never have dreamed of labeling you a coward. A certain tendency toward nervous weakness is not something that should cause shame. It is no doubt a family trait, rather like that blaze of white in your hair. It is something over which you have no control, my lord.”
“Too late, Miss Waterstone. I have decided that I must fulfill my promise to your uncle. It is the only way I can retain even a few shreds of my pride.”
“I was appalled, if you must know the truth,” Imogen confided to Horatia two days later as they set out for London in a post-chaise. They were alone in the carriage because Matthias had left the previous day with the list of instructions that she had given him. “He is doing this to prove that he is not lacking in nerve. I fear I wounded hispride. I never meant to do it, but you know how I sometimes get carried away when I feel strongly about a matter.”
“I wouldn’t worry overmuch about Colchester’s pride,” Horatia said crisply. “He has more than enough arrogance to last him a lifetime.”
“I wish I could believe that, but I’m convinced he is possessed of rather delicate sensibilities.”
“Delicate sensibilities? Colchester?”
“I wore out my tongue attempting to dissuade him from assisting me, but as you saw, I had no success.”
“Colchester certainly seems determined to help you pursue this mad scheme. I wonder what he is about.”
“I just told you what he is about. He is attempting to prove himself a man of action. Anyone can see that he is no such thing.”
“Hmm.” Horatia adjusted the skirts of her carriage dress and leaned back against the cushions. She fixed Imogen with a thoughtful gaze. “In the beginning, I told you that your plan was dangerous in the extreme because I feared Lord Vanneck’s reaction. But I am now persuaded that involving Colchester is an even more reckless move.”
“Colchester is not dangerous.” Imogen wrinkled her nose. “Indeed, I only wish he were. I would not be so concerned. As it is, in addition to managing the details of my scheme, I shall be obliged to keep an eye on him. I must make certain that in his enthusiasm to prove himself, he does not get into trouble.”
Horatia stared at her niece askance. “You are going to watch over Colchester?”
“It is the least I can do under the circumstances.” Imogen gazed glumly out the window. “He is not at all what I expected, Aunt Horatia.”
“You keep saying that. Be honest, Imogen, your expectations were built upon a fantasy that you had concocted out of vapor and smoke.”
“That is not true. I developed my notion of his lordship’s temperament from the articles he wrote for the
Zamarian Review
. It only goes to prove that one cannot put much credence in everything one reads.”
Horatia peered at Imogen through her
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