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brother’s life but he just would not say so. In time, he’d see that she was right to leave.
     
     

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    They often said that maintaining a polite mask of indifference in difficult circumstances was a sign of a true gentleman. Whoever said so was mad. Peter’s ability to maintain that mask was sorely tested after the shocking news he’d heard today about Imogen George. Discovering his former fiancée was in so terrible a situation had threatened his calm. Peter schooled his features to blankness as he stepped into the drawing room of Valentine Merton’s modest townhouse and looked about at the assembled guests, even while his heart ached with sadness.
    The ladies he’d grown up beside curtsied to him as if he were someone other than himself. Luckily, his male friends had seen sense and left off ridiculous excess in their greetings. They treated him as he wanted to be. A part of a life he’d been absent from at the worst possible time. He scanned the room for Imogen but could not see her or her brother yet. There was one lady across the room he didn’t recognize at first but her slender form tugged his memory until her identity came to him. The vicar’s daughter. Another chatterbox if he recalled correctly. Hell, he hoped he was spared her company at dinner.
    The first of his friend’s family to reach him was Miss Melanie Merton, an often shrill and unforgiving woman. Today her smiles were friendly, and not for one moment did he believe them to be anything but calculated to curry favor. In the past, Melanie had been far too open in her dislike for him and the fact that he was not rich. He was now, and that likely accounted for her pleased smile at seeing him.
    “So good of you to come and grace our home with your presence, Sir Peter,” she gushed. Her eyelashes fluttered as she continued smiling at him and he almost laughed at her transparent reversal of attitude. Did she think he wouldn’t remember her true nature? He wasn’t forgetful in the least and he did not easily forgive the slights she’d directed toward his sister before Abigail’s marriage.
    “Miss Merton. A pleasure to see you again,” he told her, although he could have gone many days without. He glanced past her as Valentine Merton gestured Peter to come toward him. “Excuse me.”
    He stepped around her but was stopped again by the presence of Miss Teresa Long, his host’s sweeter-natured cousin, blocking his path. He smiled sincerely. “You’re looking very well, Miss Long. So good to see you again.”
    Peter had always made a point of praising Miss Long and just because he was a baronet he had no reason to cease their harmless flirtation. Her cousin Melanie Merton was far too happy to offer all too many subtle snubs and their infrequent talks always seemed to lift Miss Long’s spirits.
    Miss Long smiled warmly, her posture changing to one with greater confidence. “Thank you, sir. I must say, you look rather dashing tonight as well.”
    Her compliment, while sincerely offered, meant nothing beyond the friendly banter it was meant to be. “Thank you,” he replied.
    Miss Long gestured to the slightly built lady lingering in her shadow. “Are you acquainted with Miss Jane Pease? She is the daughter of our vicar, Mr. Pease, if you recall and has recently come out in society.”
    When he bowed over her outstretched hand, the frail creature dipped a curtsy and smiled up at him in transparent joy. “So happy to make your acquaintance, Sir Peter. My father was pleased to hear of your return today.”
    Was he now? Peter couldn’t fathom why. The vicar had cast many a sour look in his direction on Sunday mornings during services until he’d quit the district a year ago. The only thing to account for Mr. Pease’s sudden happiness was that Peter was titled and rich, and the vicar had a daughter to marry off.
    Peter sneezed suddenly. His eyes watered and as he inhaled, he became aware of the scent of lilac lingering heavily