Page 35 of An Engagement with the Enemy

Today, the seventeenth of July marked the midway point of the month, yet weeks remained of his father’s summer scheme.

James counted each day he remained unattached and unengaged as a victory. His father’s plans could feasibly stretch across the summer until Michaelmas, at the end of September, if Lord Retford felt desperate enough.

Hopefully, he would give up before then.

If only to spare Jessica from men so blind to her attractive qualities that he could dissuade them with only a few exaggerations of her less attractive habits and features.

“Feather-brained fops and addlepated clodpoles, all of them,” he muttered aloud.

Ottis barked, recalling James to his duty as stick-thrower.

He checked his watch. Jessica wasn’t late. He’d arrived early. Perhaps too early.

James didn’t want her to think him eager for their meeting.

Even if he was eager.

Every other morning, they convened at the kissing gate, a landmark which had become their private council chamber.

They discussed their plans, their strategies to put off each new hopeful. They were masterminds of subtle mischief, dropping delicate hints about her aversion to early mornings and his undying commitment to his books, even going so far as to highlight his supposed inability to hold a serious conversation without quoting Rob Roy. It was a fine line they walked, maintaining the boundaries of propriety while planting seeds of doubt in the minds of their would-be suitors.

As each suitor came and left, discouraged by their well-spun tales, the success of their strategy only grew. Their mornings at the kissing gate had taken on a strange familiarity, a comfortable rhythm that soothed the discomfort of their social engagements.

In company, they maintained their distance. Though they often sneaked glances at each other, and he at times dared a wink. They communicated their small victories without saying a word where others might hear. A shared smile often said enough on the matter.

An unusual camaraderie settled between them. This was uncharted territory for James, this companionship with a woman who was his equal in wit and resolution.

The days turned into nights and back into days in a loop of banquets and afternoon teas, horse rides and walks in the garden.

With Jessica by his side, it became more of a spectacle, less of a chore. They were a formidable team, their alliance creating a barrier that kept the suitors at bay.

As he waited for her, James found himself oddly at peace. There was an ease in the way he interacted with Jessica now, a peculiar familiarity that came from their shared secret, their mutual goal. It was a strange comfort, but it was comfort, nonetheless.

“I am not late, am I?”

Jessica’s voice snapped James out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her coming through the gate, giving more attention to her skirts than to him, ensuring they didn’t catch on the gate. Ottis had already darted over to her, prancing on all four paws as he waited for attention.

“Not at all.” He slid his watch into his pocket and jumped to his feet. “Ottis merely wanted his exercise to begin earlier.”

“He is quite the taskmaster.” She bent, gloves already removed, to scratch the little dog behind the ears and give him all the belly rubs he wanted. She was always more relaxed when Ottis was with them, he realized.

“Have you ever thought of getting a dog for yourself?”

She looked up, one corner of her mouth hitching hire than the other. “Me? A dog? My family has never had a pet dog. My uncle doesn’t even keep any at this estate, and my father has no interest in them.”

She came toward the tree before settling herself on the ground, carefully arranging her skirts around her while Ottis patiently waited for a return of her attention.

“That is why I asked about it for yourself, ninny.” James lowered himself to the ground again, keeping Ottis between the two of them. “Not hunting dogs for your uncle or father. Merely a small fellow to follow you about, fetch your slippers, and curl up on your feet when you take tea or read. A creature like Ottis, but with better manners.”

The dog had flopped down in front of Jessica, and she had resumed lavishing her attention upon him.

She feigned offense with a gasp. “How dare you, sir. Ottis has perfect manners.”

Ottis sneezed, then snorted, and squirmed deeper into the grass.

“Yes, I can see that.” James raised his eyebrows at her. “My question stands unanswered as of yet, Jess.”

She lowered her gaze to the dog again, her brow pinched in a frown. “I asked once, years ago, for a dog. That was when Papa sent me to your kennel master to learn about them. But then, I was with puppies all the time. It seemed unnecessary to have one of my own when I could visit yours whenever I liked.” Her smile reappeared, though there was something tight about the corners of her lips. “And I didn’t wish to trouble anyone about it, you know. The training, walking, and such.”