Miss Watson's First Scandal (Miss Mayhem 1)

Imogen’s smile brightened suddenly. “Are you not happy for us, Abigail?”

She quickly caught her friend’s hands, noting the cold clamminess of her fingers and the fervent return grip. Perhaps Imogen wasn’t as confident about getting married to Peter as she had first appeared to be. Had she been tricked into it?

Since her brother hovered at Imogen’s side, she couldn’t ask her question right now. But later, she would get to the bottom of what Peter had done. She would support Imogen’s decision to call off the union if she had been forced to act against her better judgment.

“Of course I am.” She forced a smile and made an effort to act normally. “It’s just so unexpected and sudden. I had no idea my brother was so enamored of you he would bring himself to the point. I hope you were suitably romantic, Peter. Imogen deserves the very best.”

Imogen’s gaze dipped to their joined hands and she drew away.

“Sometimes a swift decision about these matters is for the best,” Peter mumbled, throwing a

quick glance behind him as if looking for someone. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

When he was gone, Abigail peered into Imogen’s face. “Tell me exactly how he came to propose. Quickly, before he returns.”

Imogen sighed. “Another time. I must be going. I have an appointment with Mr. Hawke shortly. I simply wanted you to know everything will come good now. You’ll never have to leave Brighton or this house. You have my word everything will be well again.”

Imogen gave her one last long hug and then hurried out, without lingering to say farewell to Peter. A vast silence stretched in her wake. This was not a love match. Not even close. The stiff formality between Imogen and Peter left her in no doubt they were ill suited to be in each other’s pockets for the rest of her life. How soon would they regret their hasty decision?

Abigail knew exactly what love felt like. She was certainly in love with David and had hardly been able to tear herself away from his bed in the early hours of the morning. She had no regrets about giving herself to him. He cared for her and in time, perhaps, he would come to love her just as strongly as she did him. If he proposed, she would happily move to London.

But her first concern now had to be extracting her friend from this farcical arrangement. Imogen would not be happy as Peter’s wife.

She turned and went in search of her brother. Peter stood in the dining room, appearing deep in thought as he stared out at the garden.

When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, Abigail cleared her throat to get his attention. “What have you done?”

His brow creased as he turned around. “I’ve done what’s best for you.”

“Best for me?” Abigail’s blood boiled. “What about what is best for her? How can marrying my best friend be in any way good? You’re not in love. Don’t deny it.”

“You place too much value on love,” he mumbled. “This arrangement will save us.”

“Arrangement! And who will save Imogen from you? She deserves to marry someone who will look after her, not a man who doesn’t appreciate her sacrifice,” she bit out savagely.

Peter’s skin paled and Abigail moved closer, hands clenched. “If you cause her misery I swear I will make you wish you had not. She deserves better. You both do.”

His shoulders slumped. “I know I don’t deserve her. But she made a very good argument for a marriage between us. I swear I will do everything in my power to ensure she never regrets her offer.”

Abigail gaped. “Imogen made the offer of marriage?”

He nodded. “I take it she didn’t mention this was her idea in the first place?”

Abigail pressed her hands to her face. It wasn’t Imogen’s idea at all, it was hers. This was Abigail’s fault for confiding so much to Imogen about their situation. She may not have asked outright, but she’d likely influenced Imogen’s decision to offer herself and her inheritance so she and Peter could stay in Brighton. Once the words were spoken Peter and Imogen would be trapped.

What had she done?

After a time, her brother excused himself and left her alone in the parlor. Glass clicked against glass in the connecting room and she thought over the events of last evening. She should not have let Imogen pursue Peter into the night. She should at least have accompanied her to ensure she didn’t do such a foolish thing.

But at the time Imogen must have been throwing her future away, Abigail had been in David’s arms.

She shuddered. A loveless marriage. It was what she had planned for Peter, after all. She just hadn’t expected Imogen to be the one to sacrifice herself to keep a roof over their heads. She hadn’t even known Imogen had such a grand fortune to temp her brother into accepting such an arrangement in the first place. She’d assumed all her talk of investments was merely for a trifling sum. If Imogen were indeed an heiress then perhaps David, as her banker, could advise her to call it off. Peter wasn’t exactly a good investment.

How sad she’d cautioned Imogen against him, yet attempted to lure Melanie Merton to be his bride. Peter spent all his time carousing, hiding from his responsibilities. How could Imogen chain herself to such a man?

She covered her face with her hands and rocked forward.

“There is a delivery for you,” Peter said from the doorway.