Page 16 of An Engagement with the Enemy

She whirled around, evidence of her shame crumpled in one hand, and a tart word on her tongue. How dare he seek to humiliate her only to then demand her forgiveness?

She blinked when he wasn’t standing behind her, and immediately dropped her gaze lower.

James Aldwick, the future Baron Retford, was on his knees before her. Both knees. In the grass. His arms were spread, his hands open and palms up, as though he kneeled before a queen to beg for a boon. His usually mocking eyes brimmed with genuine regret. It was such an unfamiliar sight, it caused all her words to dry up, though her mouth remained open in surprise.

“Miss Jessica Westcote,” he began in earnest, his tone catching her off guard. This wasn’t their usual sparring; his words were laced with a sincerity that was unfamiliar to their bickering relationship.

“I kneel before you a repentant fool, unworthy of your acknowledgment, let alone your forgiveness.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving her stunned. James had always been an antagonist, his jibes and scoffs a constant annoyance, but there was something different in his voice now. The ‘gentleman’ inside him, whom she sometimes doubted existed, seemed to be making an appearance.

“The words I spoke were an abomination, and I was dishonorable to say them.”

Was this some sort of new trick?

“I promise to make amends for my actions as soon as I am capable of such a thing,” he vowed, both hands going to cover his heart. The overly dramatic gesture warred with the sincerity she heard in his voice. Which did she believe?

He couldn’t actually want to make peace?

“And that’s not all, Jessica,” he added, a familiar spark of mischief twinkling in his eyes. Yet, it was softer, humbler this time, completely void of the arrogance she was used to. “I am at your mercy and fully willing to accept any punishment you deem suitable for my transgressions.”

For a moment, the implications of his offer held her silent. This was no jest. He was sincere, offering her an olive branch with a touch of his characteristic humor, adding a slightly lighter tone to the profound apology. James, the eternal pest, was showing he could be a gentleman.

“You cannot be serious,” she said aloud, skepticism dripping from each syllable. “You have never apologized to me.”

He tilted his head to one side, the grin he usually reserved for charming others upon his face. “I have. Once,” he reminded her.

Immediately, she remembered that circumstance. James had discovered that Catherine and Jessica, four and three years younger than his fourteen years, had hidden a rotten egg in his favorite pair of boots.

In retaliation, he had held a bucket over their heads when they sat beneath a tree for a planned picnic, informing them it was filled with slop meant for the pigs and he would dump it upon their heads unless they promised to leave him be.

Jessica had wanted to call his bluff, Catherine had burst into tears, and Lady Retford had appeared from nowhere at the exact moment the contents of the bucket splattered all over the girls’ dresses and picnic.

Though James had professed he had never meant to follow through with his threat, that the bucket had slipped, his mother had chastised him and forced him to apologize. Then she’d taken his pocket money for the month and given it to the girls to replace their bonnets.

“Do you accept my apology?” he asked in the present, still on his knees, his eyebrows raised and his smile faltering. A reluctant respect for James bloomed within her, coupled with a surprising urge to laugh. She suppressed that feeling and crossed her arms over her waist instead.

“I ought to make you kneel there all day.”

“If you wish it. Though I would ask that you inform my mother I will not be present at the dinner table.” That infuriatingly charming smile appeared again.

A mixture of emotions welled up inside Jessica. Part of her still didn’t quite trust this new, thoughtful side of James. But another part—the part that had longed for a kindred spirit all these years—wanted desperately to believe his words.

Surely, that person couldn’t be James. Yet knowing they both faced the same unwanted future, the same pressure to wed, united them in a strange way.

James hesitated, then said softly. “I meant to hurt you. A thing I’ve never wanted before and swear to never attempt again. My own feelings of frustration and humiliation fueled my temper and my words. Yet my situation, vexing as it may be, shouldn’t have any bearing on how I speak to others. I am sorry, Jessica. Truly.”

Jessica swallowed and nodded. “I...thank you. That means a great deal.” She gave him a small, tremulous smile. “And I do forgive you.”

James returned her smile, his own expression tinged with relief. An undercurrent of warmth seemed to pass between them in that moment, though she couldn’t quite think why.

“Your graciousness knows no bounds.” He rose from his knees, looming over her by a head. “I am most sincere about this. I will regret what I said every time I remember it.”

Jessica dropped her eyes from his, busying herself with returning her handkerchief to her reticule. “While your sincerity is somewhat perplexing, I do not doubt it. Not this time.”

“I know you have always been a true friend to Catherine, and my mother dotes on you with sincere affection,” he added while she kept her gaze averted.

“It is strange,” she said, raising her gaze to the sky above them. “That they should like me so much while you detest me.”

The man shrugged, not denying her words. That caused a prick, like the sting of an insect, in her chest. The emotional and mental strains of the day pressed against her mind and heart, and Jessica’s weariness overcame her.