Page 29 of An Engagement with the Enemy

“Then I suppose we had better get on with things, lest your patience with me run out as well.” He gestured to the path along the wall, worn into the grass by man and beast over the years. “Shall we walk? You can tell me whatever it was that made you scowl at me yesterday.”

Jessica fell into step beside him, and Ottis trotted along in front of them, lifting his head to look about for any sign of threat from squirrels.

“You told Lord Frederick that I’m dishonest.”

“Not exactly.”

“But that is the crux of what you told him,” she insisted, and that twist of discomfort in her stomach made her swallow. “Even in all our battles with each other, I’ve never been accused of dishonesty, or telling falsehoods. It isn’t something I wish people to associate with my character, either.”

“It was a believable way to express your disinterest in him and in London. Women feign headaches and illness all the time,” he said, looking at her askance. “I cannot tell you how often I have heard a woman beg not to dance because her feet hurt, even if she has just arrived to a ball. It had more to do with who was asking than her well-being. I have even heard a woman claim an aversion to flowers rather than agree to a walk in the park.”

Her stomach clenched unpleasantly. She had a view to such things that James had never seen. Even though his travels and movements in Society made him more worldly, it didn’t sound as though he understood this thinnest level of defense that women had been taught to hold between themselves and unwanted attention.

“I will not say such a thing is right.” How could Jessica make him understand? “And I cannot say this is true in every circumstance. Yet how often, in your experience, can a woman simply decline a man’s attention without being perceived poorly? Or as giving an insult?”

His eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“Let us say I am at a ball. A man I have been introduced to in the past comes toward me to ask me to dance. The thing is, I know this man is terribly unkind in the way he speaks of others. He is most unpleasant to spend a moment with, let alone a quarter of an hour through a dance. Or longer, if what I hear of London Balls is true.”

“Horribly true,” James muttered, then raised his hand. “Pardon me. You were saying? This odious man has asked you to dance?”

“Yes. I have three options in such a circumstance. The first is to politely decline with honesty. ‘Thank you for asking, sir, but I would rather not dance with you.’ What might the reaction be?”

“He would feel insulted,” James acknowledged. “Perhaps even tell others you slighted him.”

“Even though he is the one with the poor behavior, I will be the one to suffer damage to my character,” she pointed out. “A second option would be to accept his offer and spend a quarter of an hour to half an hour listening to his cruel criticism of others.”

“Untenable,” James muttered, looking away as his lips formed a flat line.

“The last option, the one that many a young lady will choose, is to decline with a reason that has nothing to do with the man’s character. ‘I thank you for asking, sir, but I am afraid I have torn my hem and must search out a maid.’ Or perhaps, ‘I promised my friend I would find her.’ And so she has told a falsehood purely to protect herself.”

His jaw tightened somewhat. “I hadn’t given a circumstance like that much thought. When the excuse is made in such a way, the man cannot possibly defame the lady without sounding like a brute for insisting she dance despite a headache, sore feet, or so forth.”

“It is a lesson women learn early. Even women like me, who never venture far from their home.” She tried to smile, despite the sudden weightiness in the air. “So when you told Lord Frederick that I lie to avoid unpleasant things, that was untrue about me, and quite a harsh criticism on ladies who must tell polite falsehoods to protect themselves from the attentions of men they would much rather avoid.”

“I think I understand.” James paused and took in a deep breath. “It seems I owe you another apology.”

“Not at all.” She clasped her hands behind her back and examined his expression, tilting her head to one side. “That you listened is enough. There are other ways to make someone like me unappealing to a man like Lord Frederick, you know.”

“You ought to have heard what I did.” James came back to himself with a playful swoon, bringing his shoulders back against the stone wall behind him. “‘Can you believe that woman? Jumping a hedge that she’d no right to! She could have broken her neck. What a thoughtless thing to do, to display herself in that way.’”

When Jessica only stared at him, James opened one eye at her.

“That is a near-direct quote from the man himself, speaking to his sister-in-law, about your skills with a horse.”

“Ah. I thought you’d lost your senses for a moment.” She laughed. “But you do see what I mean about him?”

He stayed leaning against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, making himself the picture of masculine smugness. “He’s a feather-brained fop. He genuinely believes that a woman is less inclined to grow in skill or intelligence than a man, even if presented with the same opportunities. I asked him last night—and I wish you had been there—if he thought a woman schooled in mathematics would be as likely to pass an exam as a man. Do you know what he said?”

“No,” she answered with some amusement. “I wasn’t there. Remember?” Yet he’d wished she had been there. Why? For her company or for the pleasure of exchanging their usual barbed conversation?

“He said any man possessed of rational thought would know it impossible for a woman to make the calculations of which a man is capable.”

“A ludicrous presumption,” Jessica agreed with a slight smile. “Why did you make that particular argument?”

“Catherine found out that Lady Isabelle is a mathematical expert.” He grinned at her. “And when he said his opinion on the matter, the marquess stepped in and came as close to reprimanding Lord Frederick as he could, in public anyway, for saying such a thing.”

Jessica shook her head and retrieved a stick from the ground. “I find myself in agreement with you about one thing.”