Page 28 of An Engagement with the Enemy

That had put them back on familiar ground. And Jessica, having developed a rapport with Ottis, had struck back with a plan as clever as it was creative.

Despite knowing James’s intention, Jessica had to admit to herself he knew her far too well. Ottis’s cheerful presence had diminished her irritation with his owner.

She stood up again and brushed her hands along the front of her gown, then tugged her glove back into place.

“How do you think I managed it?” she challenged. “You have had years to puzzle it out. If I was the one to make Ottis go on the hunt, how could I have done it?”

Slowly, James shook his head. “I’ve only seen him in such a frenzy of barking and dashing about when there was a rabbit or a weasel to run to ground. Squirrels, sometimes. I doubt you released live game in my mother’s withdrawing room the night my great-aunt Mary came to visit.”

A laugh nearly escaped, and Jessica covered her lips with her gloved fingers, pressing the laughter backward before she spoke. “I remember that.”

He would never guess how clever she had been. And that she’d managed her prank without Catherine’s help, for once. It helped that she was on good terms with the castle’s kennel master. Since childhood, she’d dragged Catherine with her to visit the kennels every time puppies were whelped. At first, Mr. Forrester had disapproved. He’d hurried her along or told her she asked too many questions about the dogs.

But then he’d let her watch his training sessions with them.

She’d seen how Ottis was trained, along with several of his brothers and sisters, to hunt rabbits.

“Tell me,” James said, bringing her attention back to him. They were both leaning against the wall now. He moved closer, so that when he bent forward their faces were no more than two feet apart. He lowered his voice, his tone almost beseeching. “Please? I have always wondered.”

The satisfaction that admission brought couldn’t be overstated. Years had gone by, and he’d never figured it out. A delightful moment of triumph made her heart race, and she looked down at Ottis, now rolling in the grass near their feet. The dog saw her state and froze, opening his jaw and panting at her.

“Ought we to tell him our secrets?”

The dog yipped at her, and she giggled.

James laughed too. “That sounds like he wants to confess his part in it, at least.”

“I suppose if my co-conspirator wishes it, I must tell all.” She lowered her voice, as though there was a chance someone spied upon them. “I hid training lures made of rabbit fur around the castle and on my person.”

His mouth fell open. “You did what?”

She grinned at him. “Mr. Forrester let me watch when he trained Ottis’s litter. The dogs were taught to recognize and follow the scent of rabbits when he would expose them to fur and droppings.” She wrinkled her nose. “Then he would make trails in a field, using those scents, and leave a false rabbit for them to bring back to him. Made of rabbit skin. They always had a reward after, so they were quite eager to play such games.”

“You put rabbit droppings in your reticule?” he asked, eyes gleaming.

That made her snort. “Never. Only the lures made from fur.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And when Ottis was about, and I knew you would benefit from his causing a scene, I would fetch the fur from where I had put it and dangle it within his view, then hide it. No one else noticed a thing.”

James’s brow furrowed and he stared at her with such a fierce expression that, for a long moment, she thought he was upset. But then his frown melted into a smile, which grew to a grin, and he finally threw his head back and laughed. Long and loud, the rich sound coaxing back the warmth of delight she’d felt at besting him.

“I never imagined,” he said at last, his voice still choked with amusement, “that prim and proper Jessica Westcote would sneak about my castle with rabbit-scented lures, knowing I would eventually be reprimanded for it.”

“There were several layers to my plans,” she admitted with a shrug. “I thought you would either be embarrassed, eventually, or caught out by your parents.”

“Oh, indeed. I was.” He sobered and a gleam of trouble appeared in his lovely blue eyes. “You are too clever by half.”

“I did feel guilty about one thing,” she admitted, casting her gaze downward.

“Really? You? My arch nemesis cannot have felt any remorse for my sake.” Yet he didn’t sound entirely disbelieving. In fact, he seemed curious.

Best to disabuse him of that notion at once, lest he think she’d softened toward him. Because she certainly hadn’t. Even if she had agreed to help him through the summer.

“I did feel remorse,” she said, stepping a little closer. She sighed, looked directly into his dark eyes, and said, “Poor Ottis always had to wait hours before I could reward him for his efforts.”

The dog yipped at hearing his name and rolled about in the grass again.

James groaned and put both hands to his heart. “I knew it. You’ve never had a care for my wretched self.” Yet his expression was as merry as ever, and almost…admiring? No. If he admired anything, it was having a worthy opponent.

With an unrepentant grin, she assured him and herself, “Never a moment’s pity, either.”