The Viscount and the Virgin by Annie Burrows Page B

replied her aunt with relish. ‘It is going to be a very select gathering. Only family, and those who have shown them selves to be your friends. Oh,’ she breathed, ‘how I am going to enjoy with holding invitations from all those nasty-minded tattle-mongers who have snubbed you!’
    Imogen could not help smiling. She could just see her aunt dropping Viscount Mildenhall’s name into future conversations. And dispersing tidbits of information about the massively wealthy but reclusive Earl of Corfe’s country seat of Shevington, where, she would boast, her dear, dear niece now resided!
    â€˜I include Mrs Leeming, and Lady Carteret, you see,’ she pointed out their names on the sheet of paper Imogen now held. Rick’s name had been included, as had that of Nicodemus Bredon, though he was but a humble lawyer’s clerk.
    â€˜Lord Ked din ton, it goes without saying, and his dear daughters, who have taken such pains on your behalf.’
    â€˜And Lady Verity Carlow,’ Imogen nodded. ‘Yes, I should like to include her. She has always been truly kind to me.’
    â€˜And she is Lord Keddinton’s god daughter too. It would not do to offend a man like him by omitting a connection of his.’
    â€˜Did you know her brother, that is Captain Carlow, is in town at the moment? He is a friend of Rick’s.’
    Her aunt pursed her lips. ‘That could lead to some awkwardness. If we invite the younger Carlow merely because he is in town, we shall have no option but to invite the oldest one too. You are aware that he has married,’ she swallowed, ‘Helena Wardale. The daughter of your mother’s…that is, your father’s—’
    â€˜I know there may a little awkwardness,’ Imogen hastily put in, to spare her aunt from having to speak of her father’s gruesome murder or the part Helena’s father had played in it, ‘if she accepts the invitation to my wedding, but I truly hope she will come. She has done nothing for which she need be ashamed. It is not her fault that her father—’
    â€˜Well,’ her aunt interrupted with false bright ness before words like adultery, murder or execution could be uttered in her drawing room, ‘it is most commendable of you to take such a for giving attitude. I am sure I would not like to be at odds with any of the Carlows—’ she lowered her voice and muttered ‘—no matter who they are married to.
    â€˜There!’ she declared, adding the names to the list. ‘We shall invite them all.’
    Imogen did not think there was anything particularlycommendable about her attitude. She just felt a strong sense of kinship with the daughter of the man who had been hanged for killing Kit Hebden. Though neither girl had anything to do with the crime, they had both lived under the shadow of scandal all their lives. True, Helena now had a place in Society again, but it was only as the wife of Marcus Carlow, Viscount Stanegate. Imogen had no idea what terrible fate might have befallen Helena’s older brother and sister who, to all intents and purposes, seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth.
    And far from believing she had any for giving to do, Imogen often wondered if Helena was the one who might bear a grudge against Amanda Herriard’s daughter. Helena had lost her father, her home and her position, because of that doomed love affair.
    The days until Imogen’s wedding flew by in a frenzy of organization. A Society wedding held at St George’s in Hanover Square, followed by a sumptuous reception for the select portion of Society who had merited an invitation, required a good deal of planning.
    And though there was not time to shop for a complete trousseau, Lady Callandar insisted she have just one new gown. She managed to get her modiste to conjure up a wedding dress that was a dreamy confection of soft creamy lace over an ivory satin under dress. Some poor