Page 64 of A Duke But No Gentleman
Not that she could completely banish the marquess from her thoughts.
Her mother had been quite vocal about returning to the country.She thought Imogene required fresh air and the rural landscape to hasten her recovery.To her astonishment, it was her father who disagreed.He had argued that an unexplained departure in the middle of the season would be fodder for the gossips.It was already known that Blackbern and Norgrave had done their best to kill each other at one of London’s most unsavory establishments, the Acropolis.She overheard her father tell her mother that one of the stories being bandied about centered on Tristan catching Norgrave bedding one of his old mistresses.Many blamed the violence on too much drink and vice.Others cast a speculative eye toward Imogene, since many members of thebeau mondehad witnessed the men’s friendly competition to gain her favor.Even though there were numerous debates on the reasons for the brawl, everyone agreed on a single point.Blackbern and Norgrave were no longer friends.The bond that had been forged in boyhood, and strengthened by camaraderie, loyalty, and, yes, even love, had been severed by a single act of violence.
Those who were acquainted with both gentlemen placed wagers at their clubs, and patiently waited for the next explosive confrontation.So far, neither man was being very accommodating.Tristan had not altered his routine.If anyone questioned him about the bruises on his face, he rudely ignored them.Norgrave had not been seen.Most assumed that he was recovering from the injuries that he had received during the fight.
Imogene had also gone into hiding.When asked about her absence, her family explained that a stomach complaint had put her in poor health.Even Tristan’s aunt had added credibility to the lie, by telling everyone that Imogene had collapsed at her residence and a physician had had to be called.The Ludsthorpes were protecting her when she had expected to be shunned.
“I thought I might find you here,” Tristan said, his expression indulgent as he approached her.He clasped her extended hand, and he kissed her knuckles.
She sensed he desired more than a chaste kiss on the hand, but he released her hand.Since the night he had slipped into the bedchamber and whispered that he loved her, he had been attentive and patient.His daily visits were something she looked forward to.Even her family did not seem troubled that Tristan had become a part of all of their lives.He had played cards with the duke at his favorite club, flirted outrageously with Verity, and to her amazement had secured two dinner invitations from her mother.
Tristan sat beside her on the narrow edge of the fountain.“You will freckle if you keep forgetting your bonnet.”
“I like the feel of the sun on my face,” Imogene admitted.“Will you love me less if I do freckle?”
He scratched at his earlobe and appeared to take the question seriously.“It is something to ponder.”
She offered him an exasperated sideways glance.“Tristan—”
“It is a travesty to mar the beauty and perfection of your nose.”In one fluid move, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body against his as they stood.
“It was not even a genuine question.”Imogene huffed.
“Everything about you is a subject that I happen to take very seriously.Even your imaginary freckles.”Tristan leaned down and placed a small kiss on her nose.“You are important to me.”
“I am aware of your feelings, Your Grace,” she said, wishing he looked less somber when he gazed into her eyes.
The corners of his mouth lifted at her formality.His blue-gray eyes twinkled with mischief.“Not all of them.If you did, you would be rushing into the house.”He sighed as he savored the feel of her body.“I have missed holding you in my arms.”
“I feel the same.”Imogene breathed in his warm scent and leaned into him.She had deliberately kept Tristan at a distance and they had both been hurt by it.“I needed some time.”
“I know, my darling.”His hands slid up and down her back, his hand dipping and cupping her backside.“Everything happened so quickly between us, and then Norgrave… I understand.”
“I do not blame you.”
“Of course you don’t,” he replied, unable to conceal the shadow of guilt from his expression.“You are generous, and see the good in everyone you meet.You probably saw the decency in Norgrave, even though he does an admirable job of burying it.”
Tristan’s remark struck with uncanny accuracy.She gasped, and turned away.
“Imogene.”He touched her on the shoulder.“Forgive me.It was a thoughtless observation.In my defense, my tongue doesn’t always consult my brain.”
She had hurt him, too, so it was easy to forgive him.“You were not wrong.About your friend.”
“My former friend,” he corrected.
“Regardless, I believe you are correct.”Imogene missed his warmth.She edged closer to him.“Norgrave must have a sliver of compassion in him, otherwise I doubt you would have been his friend for so many years.”
Tristan brushed a kiss against her lips.He retreated before she could react.“See?Generous.Norgrave does not deserve your forgiveness.”
“He does not have it,” she countered sharply.“I may never grant it, but I doubt he wants it.”
Tristan had chosen her, and it was a betrayal that the marquess would never forgive.
“I assume the dragon has mentioned my aunt and uncle’s upcoming ball,” he said, abruptly changing the subject.He refused to allow her to brood over the past.
On separate occasions, she had been approached by her mother and father about the ball.Verity had already selected the dress she planned to wear to the ball.“Next Wednesday, I believe?”
“The guests will be family and close friends.The duke mentioned your mother has ordered a dress for you since it’s a special occasion.”
