Page 18 of An Engagement with the Enemy

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Jessica, his trusted sparring partner, was in distress. Faced with the looming specter of an unwanted husband hunt. A pang of empathy stirred within him as he thought of her tear-streaked face. She had tried to hide it, but evidence of her tears had remained. The glistening gray eyes, the pink nose, and the slight shudder to her breathing had given everything away. Which was why he’d acted like a jester, trying to distract her from the hurt and make her smile.

She’d only thought him a fool.

He shook his head and approached Sir Hop, thinking still of Jessica’s confession. Their situations mirrored each other’s, both on the brink of an unwanted marital commitment.

“Strange times, eh Sir Hop?” he remarked to the silent suit of armor, his tone a mix of amusement and contemplation. The suit, with its lifeless stare and perpetually clenched fists, offered no comment.

James paced away several steps, then back again, his mind whirling. Surely there must be a way for them both to escape their parents’ machinations. But how? Jessica had always struck him as clever. How many pranks had she orchestrated against him?

She’d once replaced all his black ink with purple and convinced his tutor to pretend he saw nothing wrong with the color. She’d shortened the legs on his trousers one summer, and a jacket, making him think he’d grown several inches overnight. She’d even convinced the grooms to shorten his stirrups to enforce the ruse. Once, she’d released a flock of chickens into his chambers. Another time she’d brought Leo and Catherine into a scheme to convince him he’d lost his hearing while they carried on a conversation by doing nothing but moving their mouths without sound.

He’d retaliated every time, of course, but he’d always felt her plans were somehow better than his own. More creative.

Could they perhaps devise a strategy together? After all, who better to conspire with than the woman who matched—he wouldn’t admit that she exceeded it—his wit at every turn?

“Are we doomed to the shackles of matrimony, Sir Hop? Or can we find a way to outsmart our parents?” he queried, casting a sidelong glance at the armor. Again, Sir Hop provided no answers, the cold steel faceplate remaining inscrutable, its metallic form illuminated by the dying light of sunset.

James rubbed his temples, his mind teeming with half-formed plans and strategies that went nowhere. There had to be a solution, a way out. He only needed time to think, to unravel this tangled web.

“Perhaps it’s time for a strategic retreat, to gather our thoughts,” he mused aloud, his gaze returning to the suit of armor.

It was late. He needed to prepare for dinner.

With a final sigh, James turned on his heel, casting one last glance over his shoulder. “I’ll figure this out, Sir Hop. For Jessica’s sake, and mine.”

Before James reached the large, double doors of the armory, the soft rustle of silk made him pause. Catherine stepped onto the threshold, her brows knitted in confusion.

“Who were you speaking to, James?” she asked, glancing around the empty room.

James blinked in surprise, quickly replying, “No one. Just...musing aloud.”

His sister’s skeptical gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she shrugged and entered the room. Her vibrant yellow gown, a stark contrast to the fading grandeur of the room, swished around her as she moved closer. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

James glanced at Sir Hop from the corner of his eye. He chose to redirect the conversation. “Tell me, have you noticed anything odd about Jessica recently? Perhaps some lingering sort of worry? Or distress?”

Catherine’s face scrunched in confusion. “Jessica? Distressed? Not that I know of. Other than what your sudden attack provoked. Why? Has something else happened between the two of you?”

James frowned. He had assumed Jessica would have confided in Catherine, her closest friend, before anyone else. The fact that she hadn’t was intriguing.

“Nothing in particular,” he hedged, not willing to betray Jessica’s trust. “Merely a feeling.”

His sister gave him a suspicious look but didn’t press further. She merely shrugged. “I’ll speak with her, but you likely imagined it. You did hurt her feelings, James.”

He winced at the reminder. “She forgave me.”

“Hm.” She appeared unimpressed. “Don’t be late for dinner.”

As Catherine walked away, James found himself wrestling with a new curiosity. Why would Jessica tell him about her father’s intentions before she told Catherine? What made her trust him with that information, despite their antagonistic relationship?

It was a puzzle; one he was determined to solve. After all, he and Jessica had always been entangled in each other’s lives. And with the specters of unwanted marriages looming over both of them, they had more in common than ever before.

Perhaps, James thought, watching his sister disappear from the room, the answer to their predicament lay in that commonality. And with that, he exited the armory, leaving Sir Hop standing in silent vigil, the only witness to James’s frustration.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Under a cloudy afternoon sky, Jessica found solace in the tranquility of her family’s garden. The overcast conditions had allowed her some much-needed solitude, the ominous clouds warning off most visitors. The threat of an impending downpour seemed a small price to pay for a few moments of peace.

Engrossed in the delicate fragrance of the blooming roses, she was taken aback when James appeared at the garden entrance. Her brows furrowed as suspicion surged. He’d never visited her unless as an escort for his sister—who was nowhere in sight.