Page 5 of An Engagement with the Enemy

“Thank you, Papa.”

“Thank you, Mr. Westcote.”

“Send for me if you need me, daughter.” He reassured her with one last smile before he withdrew.

Catherine tugged Jessica away from the door, guiding them along the wall. Avoiding the knot of people in the center of the room. “Papa had all the old knights moved out of doors, along the garden walk. They have been propped up and made to hold torches.”

“That must be a sight.” Jessica glanced toward the open doors that led to the outside, a sudden longing for fresh air overtaking her. “Even the one-legged knight?”

They spoke not of real knights, of course, but of empty suits of armor that had stood guard in the room currently filled with guests.

“Even poor old Sir Hop.” Catherine led her friend along the wall, the two of them nodding to the other guests for the evening. Most were known to Jessica. They were neighbors and friends, the people she had grown up seeing at village fetes and in the old church pews. As that realization settled in her mind, the tightness in her chest relaxed.

“The Armory Room makes a splendid ballroom,” she said, raising her eyes to the thick beams that ran from east to west on the ceiling. How many celebrations had been held here, when it was a hall full of living knights and women with bell-like sleeves and wimples covering their long, loose hair?

Catherine hummed her agreement. “Papa tried to complain of the expense, of course. But Mama reminded him of some sort of bargain they struck when they began all this nonsense.” She looked out over the crowd, a small frown marring her enjoyment. “They insist that James spend all his time with Lady Emily. I had thought they would push me to befriend her.”

Having spent most of her time with Catherine the past week, Jessica had met the guest in question. “I suppose you see the reason for it as well as I do. They are hoping he shows matrimonial interest in her.”

“James?” Catherine issued a snort that somehow managed to sound ladylike. “He has ignored everything they have said about marriage for the better part of two years. Though I suppose you could be right. Dear me. Why didn’t I think of that before?”

“You have been quite overturned by the preparations for this event. I should not wonder that the idea didn’t take hold until now. They have brought the lady to him since he refuses to find one himself.”

“It makes perfect sense. Though why no one tells me of these things beforehand is a mystery.”

Jessica’s gaze returned to the center of the room, where a tall figure stood, greeting guests with a tight smile. “How is your horrid brother accepting his place as the reluctant Romeo?”

If Catherine was soft and round, her brother was square and stretched. The siblings shared dark hair and eyes, but little else. He was tall. Angular. With a noble nose bent in the middle from a childhood break, a high forehead, and a divot in his chin that he hated. He’d once told Jessica she resembled a stork with her lanky limbs and pointed nose. She’d retaliated by comparing him to an unfortunate scarecrow after a windstorm.

Catherine was staring at her brother, too. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, he has behaved rather oddly. It’s quite the spectacle to witness his struggle to dedicate his time to a lady while resenting such a commitment.”

James had outgrown the awkward years of stick-like arms and clumsy movement. Jessica, on the other hand, hadn’t changed much. A pity, really. The circumstance left him with all the fodder for tormenting her that he’d had since childhood. Whereas she had to grow more inventive in their verbal battles.

She spotted Lady Emily at James’s side. Jessica hadn’t found the youngest daughter of an earl a friendly sort, though she didn’t dislike her, either. Lady Emily had a list of accomplishments that included the ability to speak seven languages. Yet from where Jessica stood, Lady Emily appeared reluctant to say a word in any tongue to the man holding his arm out to her, likely to lead her in the first dance of the evening.

“Are you dancing tonight?” Catherine asked abruptly, drawing Jessica’s attention back to her friend.

Here, a curl of worry went around her heart again, but Jessica steadfastly ignored it. She loved dancing. So long as she knew her partner. Standing up with a stranger for a quarter of an hour or longer was her very definition of torture.

“As often as I’m asked.” She nudged her friend’s shoulder gently. “I am surprised you are not already spoken for.”

“I am, in fact.” Catherine looked away, her eyes searching the room before landing on a gentleman weaving his way through the other guests toward them. “Mr. Hammond has asked for the first set.”

Jessica shook her head at her friend’s ability to attract gentlemen. That aspect of Catherine’s life she did not envy. Not in the least. “He stepped on my toes at the assembly. Mind your own if you hope to dance again this evening,” she advised with an exaggerated wince.

Mr. Hammond arrived a moment later and bowed to them. “Miss Aldwick. Miss Westcote. I have come to claim my partner.” He was a kind gentleman, only three years their senior at eight-and-twenty. One of James’s gentler friends. And he stood to inherit his father’s estate someday. Catherine would be content in his company for the quarter hour they spent dancing together.

As they joined the couples forming two rows to dance, Jessica made her way to the open doorway, to peer out at the gardens lit by torches. They were a lovely sight, flickering in the darkness, beckoning her to escape into fresh air and friendly shadows. She pulled in a deep lungful of air, quieting the rising agitation in her mind.

“Jessica, my dear. Why are you not dancing?” Lady Retford had found her, and Jessica embraced the woman after performing a respectful curtsy. The baroness returned the affectionate greeting. “And you look so lovely, too. Have I seen you in that dress before?”

“Yes.” Jessica turned in a circle to show the gown off. “Last Christmas. It is one of my favorites.” It was an ice-blue gown that almost persuaded Jessica’s eyes to turn the same shade, in the right lighting.

“Beautiful, as always.” The baroness gestured to the room full of people. “You ought to be out there, letting everyone admire it as you dance.” The concern Jessica had seen in her father’s eyes appeared now in the baroness’s. Few people were privy to the way such events could play with Jessica’s peace of mind. The baroness was one of them.

Jessica laughed, pretending she didn’t see the gentle worry in the lady’s eyes. “Everyone here is quite familiar with the sight of me, I assure you.” She moved the conversation toward complimenting the room, the music, and the baroness’s own excellent taste in fashion. They spoke together throughout the course of the first dance, and then the vicar’s son engaged Jessica for the length of a single Galop.

With eager anticipation, she stepped onto the polished floor, feeling the rhythm of the music glide through her veins. The world around her faded into a blur as she gave the whole of her attention to the movement of the dance.