When Two Hearts Meet (Brightmore #2)

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

"Who is that?" Imogen asked Oriana as they perambulated through the manicured gardens of Falmouth. With a small gesture of her softly pointed chin, Imogen indicated Cole who was immersed in conversation with the younger gentleman Oriana had noticed earlier. They were a few paces ahead of them while Rhys led the merry company on a grudging tour of the grounds.

Ori allowed herself to glance at the man before her, noting the way his formal dark coat fit snugly across the expanse of his broad shoulders. The pair of men were far enough away from the two sisters and so engrossed in their own conversation that it was impossible to overhear their words. Ori and Imogen strolled comfortably together, arm in arm, while the group gathered in various intimate little conflagrations about them. It was crisp and cool outside, compelling the female members of the party to don winter coats and shawls, while grey clouds hung heavily overhead with the promise of rain. "That," Ori began with a hard edge to her voice, "is Captain Cole Stanley, one of the earl's... friends. He commandeers Lord Ashcroft's merchant fleet, I am told."

"How marvellous," Imogen murmured, her oddly green eyes glinting appreciatively at the captain's back.

"That is not quite the word I would use," Ori retorted sourly.

Her sister threw her a speculative glance. Out of all the Brightmore siblings, Oriana was closest to Imogen. They shared a special bond being nearest in age yet they were as different from each other as night and day. Imogen was confident and opinionated, whereas Ori was more subdued and reflective. Her sister enjoyed provoking arguments, throwing tantrums and general hoodlum whereas Oriana preferred a quiet and intimate conversation, or book to read near the fireplace. Yet somehow their companionship had bonded stronger over the years and they would confide everything to each other. When Imogen married Marshall and moved away from their family home to reside with her husband on his estate, Oriana had despaired at the thought of her sister so far away. However, Imogen had ensured that Oriana frequently visited her and vice versa. Her stays with Imogen and Marshall had become so frequent as she continued to age and march directly into spinsterhood that she started to feel more at home there than at her family's home. It didn't help that Ophelia Brightmore constantly harangued Oriana about her increasingly apparent husbandless state. "What word would you use then?"

Oriana did not have to contemplate the answer. "Insufferable, for one," she quipped, causing Imogen to grin.

"Come now, Ori. It is refreshing to dilute the pomposity of our company with a man of trade." Imogen waved her free hand around in the air, a small gesture to indicate the rest of the company present. "Haven't you noticed that we are surrounded by far too many peers?"

Imogen had a certain way with words and Ori couldn't help the wry twist of her lips and she fought off a grin. "You do realise that your husband is one?"

A wicked look entered Imogen's eyes. "He's the most pompous of the lot!" she said impishly. "However, he has married far below his pompous rank, so it balances out."

Oriana laughed good naturedly. "It is wrong of you to talk so of him," Ori admonished lightly.

"Nonsense." Imogen dismissed the topic abruptly, her gaze drawn to the gathering in front.

Their host, Lord Ashcroft, was obligingly providing a tour of the vast grounds, though his eagerness for such a responsibility was about as evident as his eagerness to consume a copious portion of fermenting eggs. Naturally, His Grace Sebastian Weatherly utilized every opportunity to provoke Rhys's ire on the tour. Currently, he was compelling the earl to answer some inane question, forcing the company to stop and listen to the interaction.