Page 46 of An Engagement with the Enemy

And now, close to him again, Jessica had to accept that she hadn’t imagined any of those strange sensations that had left her feeling bereft without his company for the past week. She was in very real danger of losing her heart to this man. The realization left her torn between longing and regret.

James could never feel the same. They’d fought one another too long. They’d barely found friendship. And she cherished that friendship too much to risk it, no matter how she yearned for more. Her secrets were too heavy for James to willingly bear, too. For any man to bear.

He spoke, his voice as gentle as it had been at the inn. “What are you thinking about? One moment, I have you giggling about butterflies in hats, and the next you look as though someone kicked your puppy.”

“I don’t have a puppy. And if I did, and someone kicked it, I would waste no time in kicking them back.”

His low chuckle made her cheeks grow warm, and her stomach fluttered rather pleasantly. The symptoms were kinder echoes of what she felt at the onset of one of her difficult episodes. This feeling of her heart skipping a beat, of her hands and face growing warm, was pleasant rather than alarming. These were things only James had inspired in her.

“If you don’t wish to confide in me, I understand. But I hope you know that I’m worried for you. This is the second time I have seen you in a state of distress, Jess.” He spoke in a tone the others would not hear, and Jessica looked ahead only to realize they had slowed to a pace that put several yards between them and the other three members of their party.

“At least you weren’t the cause this time,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

He winced and looked down at the pebbled path. Immediately, she felt guilty. She stopped and placed her hand on his arm, bringing him to a standstill. He stared at where she touched him, then raised his gaze to hers. His expression was full of regret.

“I am sorry, James. I ought not bring it up again. You apologized, and we let the matter go. Forgive me.”

“If I could erase that moment from our history, I would,” he admitted. “I regret speaking to you that way. Trying to hurt you. It will never happen again, Jessica.”

“I know.” She squeezed his arm, then tucked her hand into the folds of her skirt. She started walking again. “I need to apologize for something else. I didn’t come to the gate this morning.”

He was silent a moment before he said, without reproach, “Ottis missed you.”

Before she could respond, the sound of a horse and carriage clattered behind them. James took her hand and pulled her off the road, and ahead of them the others stepped aside, too. The carriage bearing down on them came at a fast clip, with a second carriage following along behind.

Jessica recognized the matched horses and austere uniform of the coachmen at once. “My uncle,” she breathed, hand going to her chest as her heart raced unsteadily. “And his family. They’ve arrived early.”

The coach didn’t slow, though the window dropped as it passed and one of her cousins, the youngest, appeared.

“Look, it is our cousin!” Lady Anne, seventeen years of age, waved as the horses sped along to Fairbrook Lodge. “Jessica, we’re here at last!”

“Oh dear,” she murmured, raising her hand in a less enthusiastic wave of her own.

“Best hurry, Jess,” her brother called as the carriages rumbled past. “You too, James. Now they’ve seen all of us, you’ll have to be on hand to greet them.”

Catherine’s grumbled, “Must we?” nearly made Jessica laugh, despite the constriction of her lungs.

James led the way back to the road. The concern in his eyes yet remained when he glanced at her. The lack of teasing about her momentary weakness, his understanding and gentle worry on her behalf, lowered her defenses. Especially since she knew she faced more of the same on the morrow, with the fair fully underway and her cousins forcing her into the role of hostess and guide.

“I want to tell you what happened,” she blurted, clenching her skirt in her hands as she walked. “But there isn’t any time—”

“Meet me tonight. At eleven.”

“At night? Alone?” She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart hammered in her ears. “James. We can’t.”

“You needn’t come all the way to the gate. I’ll meet you in the garden. At the arch, where we were when it rained.” His expression remained serious, his tone urgent. “I want to help, Jess.”

She swallowed. The others were laughing ahead, their speed hastened as they turned onto the lane that would take them directly to the Lodge’s door. There wasn’t time to argue. And there would be no other opportunity to tell him, to ask him for help, before she faced another difficult day of expectation amidst chaos. The weariness in her heart and body made her steps slow and her thoughts muddled, yet she had to decide.

And she knew what she wanted. Even if it wasn’t wise.

They were there. Fifty paces from her front door, where servants unloaded the carriages, and her cousins, uncle, and aunt stood chatting about the conditions of the roads and the heat of the day.

“Will you be there?” James asked once more.

“Yes.” The answer came as unexpectedly to her as his suggestion had. She would be there. Most insensibly, she worried the decision would prove more disastrous to her heart than to her reputation.

As they drew even with the carriages, Jessica’s steps slowed. Her family’s arrival meant the end of this brief interlude with James. She watched him walk ahead, broad shoulders cutting a fine figure, as he bowed to her uncle and aunt.