“Oh my God,” he mumbled while letting the rich doughy fluffiness mix with the sweet flavor of the jam. “This is so good.”
Miss Strong grinned. “I know.”
They ate for a while more in silence, each savoring their treat between sips of tea, before he asked, “Would you ever consider trying to ride again?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should.”
“I doubt the opportunity will ever arise.” She stood, seeming to dismiss the topic, and went to the stove. Dipping a small spoon into the pot, she sampled the stew. “Not bad. Would you like to try it?”
“All right.” Simon went to join her. Accepting the spoon she offered, he turned toward the pot. His arm bumped hers in the process, resting there against her for a moment before she stepped away. It was enough though – enough for awareness to spike through his body like lightning.
Tightening his grip on the spoon for fear he might drop it, he forced his brain to focus so he could taste the pot’s fragrant contents as well. A slightly spicy blend of tomatoes, herbs, and vegetables mixed with chopped lamb teased his tongue. “This is excellent, Miss Strong. Really, truly excellent.”
A flush crept into her cheeks. “Looks like we work quite well together. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed I would.” He set the spoon aside. The urge to pull her into his arms was almost uncontrollable. Fearing he might do something stupid and ruin the bond they’d started to forge, he began clearing their plates. “We probably ought to discuss our reason for being here together and try to come up with a plan.”
“Of course.” Miss Strong began putting away the food items still remaining on the table. “I should start by laying out the series of events leading up to my father’s arrest, why I believe he was used as a scapegoat, and who I suspect of double crossing him.”
It was an immense relief to get back to business, for although Ida had truly enjoyed the amicable atmosphere she’d shared with Fielding for the last few hours, she’d started to fear the effect he was having on her. Because this man, the one who’d agreed to shed his social constraints for her, was far more dangerous than the arrogant peer she’d met at Amourette’s. This man was one she could not only see herself liking, but one who had the ability to make her skin grow hotter with a mere glance. Indeed, his ability to make her insides flutter and her pulse beat faster was so disconcerting, she welcomed the chance to think of something else.
Having resumed her seat with him sitting opposite her, she chose to focus on his left shoulder in order to avoid meeting the intensity of his gaze. “When Papa returned from the Continent following the war, he’d been promoted to colonel.”
“An honor that my own personal experience with him can confirm he deserved.”
“I agree. But during the last two years of his life, his rank within the army rose four additional steps until he was made general. Without any additional accomplishments on his part.”
“Odd that,” Fielding agreed with a murmur.
“All of a sudden there were dinners, parties, and celebrations he had to attend. High ranking men of the peerage became part of his social circle. They invited him to their homes and expected him to reciprocate. So he did.”
“And you believe one of them used his influence to deliberately place your father in this position – in a spot where he would appear the sort of ambitious social climber who wouldn’t think twice about helping Napoleon if it served his own purpose?”
“Precisely.” She shifted in her seat. “My father was accused of helping Napoleon flee Elba by ensuring the absence of the British and French guard ships. From what I’ve learned, this was achieved by sending forged letters carrying both King George’s and King Louis’ seals. It took two years to figure out what had happened, until Napoleon himself suggested a British spy.
“Papa was called in for questioning on account of his rank, it was claimed. When he returned, he assured me there was nothing to worry about, but I could see the concern in his eyes. The next day, he went to call on his friends, intent on seeking support, only to learn that they’d all quit Town.”
“Suspicious, I’ll agree.”
“That was when he decided to take me to Amourette’s. He must have sensed something was up, for he told me of his intentions to leave for France and send for me once he was ready.”
“Except he never made it.”
She shook her head. “They picked him up in the harbor before he managed to board the ship. He was arrested, charged with treason against his king and country, and executed. All in the space of two days.” The memory of it, of the moment in which she’d learned her father’s fate and her life had been changed forever, still brought tears to her eyes. She swiped them away and set her jaw, determined to regain her composure. “Philipa hid the newspapers for an entire month after. Until they stopped writing about it.”
Fielding’s nostrils flared. His expression tightened and for a second Ida was sure he’d explode in anger. Instead, he took a deep breath, leaned forward, and covered her hand with his. When he spoke, his voice was a comforting murmur. “I’m terribly sorry for what you had to endure and for the sacrifice your father was forced to make. It wasn’t right.”
“No,” she agreed. “It wasn’t.”
“I wish I’d had the courage to try and help him.”
“Thank you, but I doubt there was much you could have done.”
He didn’t respond. He just sat there, watching her while he held her hand. It was startling for any number of reasons, though perhaps most of all because it felt good. There was an incomprehensible rightness to it that almost caused her to gasp when he finally pulled away.
Her heart thumped wildly against her breast. Fielding wasn’t for her. He never would be. In fact, he was all wrong and…
