Miss Watson's First Scandal (A Miss Mayhem Novella) by Heather Boyd Page B

hours rest last night and her mind was a little fuzzy still. “Excuse me, but did you just say you were to be married?”
    Imogen’s smile dimmed. “Yes, that is exactly what I said.”
    Abigail squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. She sat in her brother’s parlor, taking tea with her best friend and for a change her brother appeared attentive. She must be dreaming this nightmare. “To each other?”
    “Well, of course to each other,” her brother bit out.
    So she had heard correctly. Her brother and best friend were to be married at the end of the month. Yet Abigail couldn’t fathom how a union between them could possibly work. They barely spoke, and Peter always left the house when Imogen came to pay a social call. They were not marrying for love.
    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