Page 23 of An Engagement with the Enemy

“How old is Lady Isabelle?” Jessica asked, lowering her voice. “Not that it matters, really, but I thought most unmarried ladies of rank were as young as us. Or younger.”

“Three and thirty,” Catherine answered from behind her now-open fan. “The woman is wealthy as Midas, too, from what I have heard. She has said she has no desire to marry. With the power she has from her family’s title and her fortune, why should she? Giving all of that up for a man to take control of her life would be a rather horrid decision.”

Jessica’s admiration of the woman grew. She’d felt the same, and it was one of the few comforts she’d taken when she decided she couldn’t risk marriage. Perhaps, she had reasoned with herself, keeping her independence would make up for the lack of husband.

When the gentlemen arrived in the room, Jessica and Catherine parted briefly. Catherine fussed over helping her father with his pipe, a thing she had done since her youth, while the baroness served cakes and coffee to the others. The evening was meant to be one of conversation from this point forward. Lord Frederick went to his sister at the pianoforte, speaking in low tones with her.

James took the opportunity to sidle up next to Jessica. “Lady Isabelle has a fondness for cats we might exploit, though she mentioned it only in passing. She abhors all insects, though I am uncertain how to use that to our advantage. I found her engaging. I would like her if I was not expected to court her.”

“I could say the same of Lord Frederick,” Jessica confessed. “Up until the moment he implied women haven’t any understanding of politics.”

He chuckled. “I made that mistake with you once. You set him aright?”

“Of course. But I doubt it cooled his interest. He thinks himself an expert horseman and has a fondness for romantic adventures in novels. I insulted his favorite book and author.”

“An excellent first step, and innocent enough. Very well. I think we all ought to go riding tomorrow to see how we can use this information to our advantage.” James’s eyes glowed in a way she recognized at once. It was the same light that appeared there, a gleam of impishness, when one of his pranks were underway.

Unable to help it, Jessica leaned toward him with narrowed eyes. “Remember, nothing that harms a person or our reputations.”

“Of course not.” He offered her his arm. “You will abide by the same, I trust?”

A nod was her answer as she laid her hand on his forearm. “My only desire is to remain unattached at the end of summer.”

Then there would be fewer men coming and going from their part of the county, and she could find a way to prove to her father that marriage simply wasn’t in her future.

“We are agreed.” He nodded to their guests. “Come. We have more information to mine and a duty to uphold.”

She wore her friendliest expression as they approached the siblings at the instrument. Though trusting James was a new sensation, Jessica found she didn’t chafe beneath it. The unfamiliar situation ought to have made her uncomfortable. Yet somehow, all she felt was excitement for what was to come. This was turning out to be a truly marvelous little plot between the two of them, one bound to be both amusing and, she hoped, successful.

CHAPTER NINE

The early afternoon sun bathed the castle’s gray stones in a warm glow, making them bright despite their age, as the group gathered in the courtyard, preparing for their horseback ride. James had arranged the ride as promised, much to his father’s surprise.

James and Catherine took the lead, their horses stepping briskly along the well-worn path. Lady Isabelle came next, her horse trotting gracefully as she appeared to observe the picturesque countryside that unfolded before her. Jessica and Lord Frederick followed closely behind, enjoying the lively conversation that flowed between them.

The rolling hills of the English countryside were a tapestry of vibrant greens, adorned with wildflowers that swayed in the gentle breeze. The summer light cast a warm glow on the landscape, accentuating the beauty of the sprawling meadows and farmer’s fields beyond the village.

They rode with purpose toward one of Catherine’s favorite picnicking spots, a small grove of trees on the bank of the River Nidd. It wasn’t a far distance, which made it suitable for their group, one that, overall, seemed more enthusiastic about a picnic than a bracing exercise.

As they rode, James couldn’t help but steal glances at Jessica every time he turned in the saddle to address Lady Isabelle, wondering if she’d already found occasion to speak of him with the lady. The marquess’s sister gave him short answers and tight smiles but responded with more warmth to anything Catherine said to her. Though, his father had said the woman was determined not to marry and he would have to change her mind. Perhaps her behavior wasn’t so out of the ordinary if she was as much against the idea of a match as he was.

Regardless, her curtness was fine with him. After a time, he let Catherine and Lady Isabelle take the lead while he dropped back to the middle of their party. He stole another glance at Jessica to find that her eyes sparkled with what he assumed was enjoyment, though she barely cast him a glance.

Lord Frederick matched her enthusiasm, but his gaze upon her struck James as somewhat calculating.

James gently guided his horse to slow his pace, straining to catch the pair’s words over the clop of hooves and the rustle of wind through the tall grass.

Lord Frederick had taken up the subject of books again, it would seem. “Miss Westcote, your insight into Walter Scott’s novel is fascinating. Most ladies—pardon me, most people—fail to consider the subtleties of narrative structure.”

Jessica’s reply was somewhat dry in tone. “You flatter me, my lord. Though I suspect your passions run deeper for such subtleties than most.”

The lordling laughed, though it sounded somewhat forced to James. “You have seen through me at once. I do enjoy analyzing literature. The nuances of language and storytelling are endlessly fascinating.”

“They are indeed,” Jessica agreed. “But we must tread lightly upon the subject, lest we exhaust it completely and leave no room for deeper conversation.” She glanced at James, a touch of humor to the quirk of her lips.

“There is no danger of that,” Lord Frederick assured her. “We speak only of art and the life of the mind. Such things elevate the spirit and couldn’t possibly be exhausted by an afternoon’s ride.”

“Perhaps,” Jessica replied. “Yet I find the subject of literature may not be lively enough, considering we are out in nature rather than indoors. And Mr. Aldwick has heard my thoughts on Scott’s work more times than he would like.”