Page 30 of An Engagement with the Enemy

“What is that?” James sounded surprised.

She tossed the stick for Ottis to chase. “I wish I had been there last night, too, if only to see that moment.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Though Catherine expressed sorrow at Lady Isabelle’s departure, as the two had become fast friends, the baron wasn’t surprised when the marquess and his siblings left without any word of courtship between James and the unwed lady. At breakfast the next day, the baron merely announced that their next guests would arrive in two days’ time.

James managed to suggest Catherine invite her dearest friend to be present when this new family arrived. To “save time later” on introductions. Though she seemed somewhat suspicious of his motives, Catherine had invited Jessica to appear by her side when the coach with Lord Richland and his family arrived.

“Here we are again,” Catherine muttered quietly enough that her voice didn’t carry beyond James or Jessica, the two of them flanking her. “Trotting the prized ponies out to see if they suit one another.”

Jessica cast Catherine a grimace. “At least you aren’t part of the herd. This time.” Jessica had finally told Catherine about her father’s desire to see her wed. Good. James hadn’t like knowing something about Jessica that his sister didn’t.

It had felt odd.

“Maybe next year,” James said, as though to cheer his sister up. “Perhaps all three of us can go through this exercise again.”

“You aren’t going to get out of it,” Catherine said, caution in her tone. “They will see you married off by the end of the year, James.”

James glanced over his sister’s head to make eye contact with Jessica as he said, “We’ll see about that.”

The invited earl, his wife, and his daughter descended from the carriage. Riding behind them in a smaller vehicle were the earl’s two grown sons, both of them bachelors.

As Lord Retford made the introductions, both eligible sons tried to stand a little taller. Yet no matter how they tried to stretch their necks upward, they still found themselves too short.

Jessica wore half-boots with two-inch heels. At James’s suggestion. Footwear she normally reserved for outdoor use when there was a chance of puddles. Her natural height, with the two inches added, put her five or six inches taller than both bachelors. And they looked at her as though she was a giantess.

“Miss Westcote, you say?” the elder of the two, Lord William, the next in line to be earl, simpered up at her. “Any relation to the Earl of Wyndham? I believe his family name is Westcote.”

Keeping her posture perfect and her head tilted slightly upward, Jessica gave a succinct nod. “He is my uncle. My father’s older brother.”

Lord William exchanged a glance with his younger brother, Lord Henry, their look significant. Neither said anything more on the matter.

“A pleasure, Miss Westcote,” was all Lord Henry said as he bowed, then tucked his hands behind his back and glanced impatiently at his father, waiting to be led into the house. Not deigning to have another word with Jessica or anyone else.

Perhaps being tall himself made it difficult to understand why certain men cared about such a thing as their wife’s height. What did it matter how tall a woman was when she carried herself, as Jessica did, with grace and confidence? And had a beautiful, Grecian look to her features, too.

The fashionable set was mad for all things Greek and Roman. Why didn’t that same fervor apply to a statuesque woman like Jessica?

Dissuading the men from courtship with her would be simple this time. As James bowed to Lady Helen, he took in her soft smile and glowing eyes and realized that he faced greater danger than Jessica.

Fortunately, when the guests went to their rooms to freshen up from their journey, James found Jessica and Catherine in the Rose Room. They were going through the list of activities planned for the week. He pulled a chair closer to where the two of them perched on a sofa then settled himself as casually as he could.

Catherine stared at him as though he had lost his wits. “What do you want, James?”

Jessica bit her lip and said nothing, though her eyes danced in merriment. He rarely sat with them when no one else was in the room. Of course his sister would experience a level of suspicion.

He shrugged. “‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows’?”

Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Do not quote Shakespeare at me.”

At that, Jessica’s smile slipped free. “Really, James. You cannot be in misery already. They have only just arrived.”

He huffed and slumped a little more comfortably into his chair. “I would tell you what Shakespeare said about time, but I have been warned off quoting him.” He glowered playfully at his sister.

Catherine looked upward abruptly. Perhaps searching for her patience. “Do you want something, James?”

“Companionship.”