Page 25 of An Engagement with the Enemy

Lord Frederick waited with James until the ladies caught up to them, though his expression remained closed, the man lost in thought.

If James managed to chase off this suitor, Jessica might actually begin to trust him. And then work with him to ensure that he remained a bachelor at the end of summer, too.

After dismounting at the picnic spot, Catherine took command of the situation. Like a general giving marching orders, she had all of them contributing to setting up an outdoor repast that would serve as their afternoon tea.

As Catherine supervised the gentlemen in laying out the picnic blanket, James went in search of a rock to hold down one corner of the large square of fabric. He searched near where Jessica secured the horses beneath the shade of the trees.

Glancing over his shoulder, ensuring no one else was nearby, he whispered to Jessica, “I told Lord Frederick you pretend to have headaches to avoid doing unpleasant things.”

“You told him what?” Jessica’s eyes widened. “I have never pretended to have a headache in my life. For any reason.”

“That isn’t the point, though, is it?” He winked at her, and Jessica’s cheeks turned pink. Then she narrowed them, glaring at him in a manner he’d seen quite often.

“You’re quite horrid, you know.” She opened and closed her fingers, as though wishing to grasp at something out of reach. She settled for folding her arms across her chest, tucking her hands tightly beneath her elbows. “Did you really need to invent such a story?”

James simply shrugged. “He is far more interested in you than I believed possible, given such a short acquaintance. I thought it best to head him off, so to speak.”

“Dear me,” she said, her voice lowered as she peered over the back of her gelding at him. “It sounds as though you think someone’s opinion of me would improve upon greater acquaintance. How strange we are not the best of friends, if that is true.”

He smirked. “Perhaps I am merely immune to your charms. Whatever they may be.”

“That you think I have any is a marked improvement to your view of me. Should I be grateful?”

“Gratitude is a virtue, I’m told.”

She batted her eyelashes at him and put one hand to her chest, feigning a gasp. “Now you think I am charming as well as virtuous? And after a single day of our truce? We ought to be careful, or you’ll be the next gentleman I’ll have to rid myself of.”

He choked back a laugh. “You have nothing to fear on that account. Charming and virtuous you may be, but I’m well acquainted with your razor-sharp tongue. What man would wish a companionship with that for the whole of his life?”

“What woman would want to be stuck with someone who didn’t value her sharp wit?” she returned with a confident lift of her chin.

“Touche.” James scooped his rock up from the ground at last. “Don’t forget. You get headaches when you find things unpleasant.” He walked away, smirking to himself.

Their meal was small, but perfectly suited to the day. Slices of bread, cheeses, dried meat, and fruits sprinkled with sugar kept them from needing utensils. Lady Isabelle remarked that it felt quite wild, eating with her fingers out of doors.

“It is one of my favorite things about summer,” Catherine said with a happy sigh. “Slipping away like this, ignoring the conventions usually forced upon us. Even eating is fraught with rules and expectations.”

“Oh, I quite agree,” Lady Isabelle said, plucking a fig from her plate. “Especially if you have ever eaten at the table of someone like the Prince Regent, or a duke. Despite a lifetime of training, I always worry I will use the wrong fork or drink from the wrong cup, and everyone will notice.”

The two of them giggled, but Edward’s attention remained on Frederick. The man had been quiet, and he’d spent most of his meal frowning at his food or sneaking curious glances at Jessica.

It seemed he’d finally found a way to approach the topic that bothered him, thanks to the conversation of his sister.

“Miss Westcote, do forgive me if I am wrong, but I cannot think that I have ever seen you at such a formal evening before. I cannot remember meeting you in London during the Season. I know I would have remembered catching a glimpse of one so stately as you.” His smile would have charmed a lesser woman, but James saw Jessica’s posture grow rigid. She wasn’t about to be soothed by the compliment amidst the implied question.

Still, she replied tactfully. “The air in Town doesn’t agree with me. I much prefer the countryside and its tranquility.” She tapped at her lips with her napkin. “London causes the most fearful headaches.”

James gave an apologetic shrug when Frederick glanced his way.

Catherine’s expression changed to one of confusion, and for a moment James’s lungs seized up. She could give away everything by one comment. Instead, his sister gave an indifferent shake of her head and spoke as if she’d known Jessica’s aversion to town all along.

“I certainly cannot blame anyone for such a thing. London is terribly sooty, is it not, Lady Isabelle? Not at all like the country. One has only to look about on a day like today and prefer this to the other.”

“Of course. The country is likely much better for one’s health,” Lady Isabelle agreed.

Catherine and Lady Isabelle thankfully turned the discussion to how lovely the countryside was, and Lord Frederick applied himself to their comments rather than risk another with Jessica.

James tried to catch Jessica’s eye with a triumphant smile, but she kept her gaze lowered. She fiddled with the napkin in her lap, not joining in the conversation. Soon, her eyes grew rather dull and as distant as a faraway thundercloud.