The Restless Viscountess

Chapter 3

"There's always another story. There's more than meets the eye." W.H. Auden

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Chapter Three

Imogen climbed onto Alexandra’s back so that her sister could carry her down the stairs. Not even Alexandra struggled with Imogen’s light frame.

Once down the stairs, Alexandra helped Imogen to steady herself, before offering her an arm to lean on as they made their way towards the dining room. The dining room door was opened for them by footmen and they entered to see their party finishing what looked like the final course before pudding. The men promptly stood up to welcome the two women and Alexandra helped Imogen to the two chairs that were left vacant for them, between their father and Simon.

“We had not expected you girls down before it was time to leave,” commented Emmett as he went to help Imogen to her seat. He then smiled coyly. “Though I suppose the temptation of pudding enticed you to make the journey downstairs.”

“You are exactly right, Papa,” replied Alexandra comically.

Imogen was glad to be seated beside Simon as she did need to thank him. Were it not for him, she would have smacked her head on the floor. Imogen was seated to Simon’s right, in full view of his scar. She did feel terribly sorry for him. It looked like it had been very painful, the poor man. The scar was very deep, the deepest part of the scar, perhaps the point of impact, was at the corner of his eye. Imogen wondered if he had sight in that eye. The rest of the scar was perhaps from the reparation, though the doctor’s efforts were very rough indeed.

“Are you feeling better, Lady Imogen?” asked Simon quietly once Imogen was sitting down.

“Yes, thank you,” replied Imogen. “I am told that you were my saviour, Colonel,” she continued. “My sister informed me of your gallantry and quick thinking. I am very grateful.” Imogen removed the silver ring from her napkin before placing the cloth in her lap. She smoothed the napkin across the skirt of her dress as she footmen began to serve the rhubarb tartlet. Imogen felt very tempted to lick her lips in anticipation. Each guest was given a miniature tart and a small dish of custard.

“Not at all, Lady Imogen,” replied Simon, who smiled at her. The scar appeared to pull as he smiled. Imogen wondered if it pained him.

Much to Imogen’s embarrassment, Simon seemed to notice her eyes darting between his scar and his eyes. Imogen looked down at her plate in shame.

“Do not be embarrassed. People stare at me every day. I have come to expect it and I am not as offended as I once was. I addressed what happened to me earlier in the evening though you were absent. It is easier for me to inform people of what happened to me, rather than to ignore it have people pretend as though they do not see it.”

Imogen still felt embarrassed that she had been caught staring. It was very rude to stare. “You need not explain, Colonel. I apologise for staring.”

Simon chuckled quietly. “As I said, do not be embarrassed. Though I do wish that pretty, young ladies stared at me for other reasons.” He quickly quietened. “Though I suppose that is an inappropriate comment for me to make seeing as though your father is not ten feet from me.”

Imogen blushed bright red. A man had never before called her pretty. Men did not often notice her, she was too slight and often ten inches below their eyelevel.

“Well, I am glad I still have the ability to make a young lady smile,” he commented.

Imogen had not realised that she was smiling, and what a dopey smile it was. She quickly righted herself and collected her dessert spoon ready to start eating her tart. “Whatever it was, I am sorry for it. It must have been very painful,” Imogen said apologetically.