Page 85 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
‘Don’t what?’ he asked innocently, and she gritted her teeth.
‘You need to wait until we’re finished.’ Dexter hadn’t stepped in front of her, but he’d moved closer. She could feel his little finger sliding against hers. ‘This rehearsal is important to Imogen, it matters to all of us, and you can’t come here and break it up just because you want to speak to her. Imogen?’ He turned towards her. ‘It’s up to you what you do, OK? You’re in charge.’
She glanced between Edmund, the rapt onlookers, and Dexter. She loved that he was standing up for her, but she also knew that if she didn’t talk to Edmund, then he would never go away. He just wouldn’t.
She looked Dexter in the eye. ‘I’m going to talk to him. Only for a bit, OK? I need to do this, so he understands.’
‘You don’t have to.’ He said it lightly, but his expression was guarded. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I can step in – I promised you, didn’t I?’
‘I haven’t forgotten, and that promise means a lot to me.’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘You have no idea how much.’ She wished she could talk to him now, could convince him that she wasn’t wavering, but of course the moment she’d finally made a decision, chosen to follow her heart, her biggest fear had come true. She needed to set Edmund straight.
‘Imogen?’ Edmund snapped, his patience already wearing thin.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ She hesitated, then stretched up and kissed Dexter on the cheek. She wanted to whisper in his ear that she was staying, that she wanted him for an amazing timeanda long time, but she couldn’t do that now. Instead, she hurried down the steps. ‘Can you leave us until last, Fiona?’
Fiona stared at her, as if the shock of everything she’d just witnessed, real-life drama on her Christmas stage, was all too much. Then she blinked and said, ‘Of course. Take your time.’
Edmund held his hand out but Imogen ignored it. She walked past him, assuming he would follow her, and he did. Her cheeks were red, her mortification overwhelming, as she asked Sophie if they could talk in her kitchen.
‘Of course.’ Sophie’s eyes were sharp with concern.
‘Thank you.’
She led Edmund through the hall and into the largekitchen which, despite the old bones of the house, had been recently refurbished, everything glossy and modern. It was a contrast of white worktops, rich teal cupboards and gleaming silver appliances. She didn’t sit at the farmhouse table, instead leaning against a counter. Edmund hovered opposite her. She couldn’t help thinking ofNorthanger Abbey, of Henry Tilney’s observation about how being happy, giving in to your indulgences, always came at a price.
‘I am come, young ladies, in a very moralizing strain, to observe that our pleasures in this world are always to be paid for, and that we often purchase them at a great disadvantage, giving ready-monied actual happiness for a draft on the future, that may not be honoured.’
Was this it? Was her borrowed happiness over? The Imogen of two months ago would have accepted her fate, gone back to London with him. But not now.
‘Why did you come, Edmund?’ She crossed her arms.
‘To bring you home, of course. We’re four days away from Christmas, you’re about to miss your parents’ Christmas Eve bash, not to mention the day itself, and I thought you’d had long enough, now.’
‘Long enough for what?’
‘To get over … whatever it was that gave you cold feet. I am prepared to forgive you, you know.’ He gave her his crinkly-eyed smile. ‘My parents said that, if we don’t want to wait until next Halloween, to honour their wedding anniversary, Ma’s birthday is on the fifth of March and we could do it then, as a good second choice.’
Imogen rubbed her forehead. Had she been invisible? Silent? Had he heard nothing she’d said? ‘It wasn’t cold feet.Or, if it was, it’s a permanent condition. I told you on the phone that it’s over.I don’t want to marry you.’
‘You’re so dramatic, Imo,’ he said fondly. ‘It’s not a good idea to be getting involved in all that acting malarkey again, is it? It clearly isn’t good for you.’
‘I’mdramatic? What about you coming all the way here, striding up the aisle in the middle of our rehearsal when we’ve already had this conversation? When I’ve told you it’s not going to happen?’
‘You don’t mean that.’ His smile faltered.
‘Of course I do,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You think I ran away from our wedding forfun?’
‘But we’re so good together.’
‘If you believe that, then you’ve been paying even less attention than I thought!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Imogen sighed so that she didn’t scream. ‘You don’t want me, Edmund. You want to be connected to my family, to Rowsell & Patterson Law, and I was a gleaming tool in your arsenal. Marry the boss’s daughter, cement your future, get your surname added to the company header.’
‘Now hang on—’
‘I can’t believe you’re even thinking of denying it. Iheardyou, talking to Dad. You want your reputation to precede you and your star to shine brightly, and to follow this … this life path that you believe is the only way. You’re charming, and you can be kind when there’s something in it for you, but we’re so mismatched.’
