Page 57 of An Engagement with the Enemy

“James is destined to be a politician with his seat in the House of Lords, and his wife will be required to socialize. Can you see yourself in that role, attending balls and parties, always in the public eye? Helping him put forward his party’s plans?”

“You don’t think I’m good enough for him,” Jessica whispered.

“It isn’t that.” Catherine finally sank onto the bed next to her friend. “If anything, you are far too good for my brother. It’s that I’m worried for you, and what such a thing would mean for your peace of mind.”

“I was at the fair,” Jessica said. “As you said, all day with James. I didn’t suffer a single fit. I did well today.” She sounded like a child begging to leave the nursery rather than a woman grown. And she hated it.

Catherine’s tone gentled, her dark eyes filling with compassion. “But how many times have you not made it through an event? You’ve left assemblies early to cry in the carriage. You’ve declined invitations because you weren’t familiar with enough of the guests. One good day doesn’t mean you have it in you to face a lifetime of parties and social events. I’ve seen my mother working alongside my father. She thrives on such things. But you? Could you be happy that way, Jess? Truly?”

Tears welled in Jessica’s eyes as Catherine’s words sank in. Her friend was right; she had been ignoring the truth, letting her growing feelings for James cloud her judgment. The social obligations that would come with being James’s wife made a knot tighten in her stomach. Her throat closed and her lungs squeezed painfully.

It was her childhood all over again. The sick feeling in her stomach when she had to play the pianoforte in front of guests. The spots in her vision when the crowd pushed too close. The damp palms when she curled her hands into fists and wanted to run far, far away from everything and everyone that made her feel trapped. She stared at her friend, desperate for understanding and support.

“I love him,” Jessica whispered, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

Catherine’s lips parted with a gasp, then her whole expression softened. “I’m sorry,” she said at last, her own eyes filled with tears. “There is a reason you said you didn’t think you would marry. All those things you worried about—I worry about them, too.”

A sob escaped Jessica’s throat, and her heart shattered like glass. It didn’t matter. The way she felt didn’t mean she could be what James needed.

Catherine hugged Jessica tightly. “I cannot imagine the hurt you feel, dearest. But you must think of your future, of what will make you truly happy. James’s world is not one that will suit you. You must think of yourself and what will bring you peace and contentment.”

They sat together in silence, the weight of Catherine’s words settling over them. Jessica had to face the reality of her situation. But the thought of giving up on her feelings for James, of denying herself the chance to be with the one person who challenged and understood her, was too painful to bear.

Finally, Catherine broke the silence. “Promise me that you’ll think this over carefully. You deserve happiness, and I only want what’s best for you.”

Jessica nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I promise. I’ll think it over.” Already, she knew the easiest path. The best path. It would be to go back to how things were. To pretend her feelings for James hadn’t reached the depths of her heart.

With that, Catherine wiped at her tears. “I must go before my mother realizes I left the house before dinner.” She forced a wobbly smile. “Everything will work out, Jess. You’ll see.”

“Don’t—” She had to start again, her throat raw with her emotions. Her despair. “Don’t tell anyone what I said, please. Don’t tell James. He would never let me live it down.” She forced a smile but knew it looked as wrong as it felt on her face.

“I won’t say a word,” Catherine promised, her own expression sorrowful. Understanding. That made it hurt more. Catherine would never hurt Jessica intentionally. Every word she had said had been given in the spirit of friendship and affection. “Time will help. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”

She kissed Jessica on the cheek, then left.

Jessica sat alone with her thoughts, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had to make a decision that would change her life forever. Going to dinner in her current state was out of the question. She would, without a doubt, find herself collapsing beneath her cousins’ scrutiny and haughty conversation. Her heart was too tender at present.

She rang for Bessie. “I no longer feel well,” she told her maid, who appeared quite surprised by that declaration. “I think a tray with a little soup is all I need. Send my apologies to my father, please.”

“Yes, miss.” Bessie helped her put her nightclothes back on, not saying a word. Though she certainly looked as though she wished to ask a thousand questions. Then the maid withdrew for the night.

Jessica sat near her hearth and pulled her slippered feet up onto her chair, wrapping her arms around her legs.

She sat there, her feelings numb, her friend’s words echoing in her mind. She loved James, but could she find happiness as his wife? Could she withstand a lifetime of social pressures and expectations? Or would she disappoint him?

She hadn’t given much thought to what her feelings for him would lead to, too caught up in the moment to consider the consequences of what loving him would mean. Love, if returned, meant marriage. Marriage to James Aldwick meant eventually becoming a baroness, the next Lady Retford.

The current Lady Retford was everything graceful and charming. Her keen brown eyes, which she’d given to both her children, were always assessing. Always watching. Yet her smile never faltered, lighting up her face in a way that had always put Jessica at ease.

The baroness spoke eloquently, yet with purpose. She remembered the smallest details about those she conversed with, making everyone feel remembered and important. And how Jessica had envied the way Lady Retford seemed to float through crowds, conversing with everyone she encountered, never at a loss for words. Comfortable in the world around her.

How did she do it? Had she learned? Had it come naturally?

Even trying to imagine herself in that position, leading conversations, presiding over social affairs and ballrooms, with everyone’s eyes on her—it made Jessica feel sick. Her skin went damp with perspiration, and she stood with a sudden need for more air. She went to the window and opened it, then leaned into the darkening sky.

The panic that used to grip her as a child, the terror of public scrutiny that still haunted her at times, hadn’t dimmed with time. Not truly. She’d merely stopped exposing herself to situations that made things difficult.

She thought of the day’s events, the joy she’d felt with James, the absence of any fits. Was she strong enough now to face a future by his side?