Page 16 of Bargaining for the Barrister
Miles groaned from his slouched position next to Jemma on the sofa. “Let the man take a seat before he is forced to confess the depths of his heart.”
Paul sat in a hardbacked elbow chair. “Jemma? I hadn’t the faintest idea you were in Brookeside.”
She smiled. “Surprise.”
Jemma Fielding was not a local resident, but as Lisette’s younger cousin, she often came to stay for the summer. He had not heard she’d arrived but wasn’t surprised she’d missed attending church. Even with Miles as the vicar, Jemma and her grandmother had not much cared for services in the past. Paul leaned forward. “You came just in time for a little Rebel fun.”
“Can we even call ourselves the Regent’s Rebels anymore since Prinny is now King?” Tom asked. “It feels a little... I don’t know... treasonous.”
Ian laughed outright. “We’ve impersonated a few people, but we have never done anything remotely treasonous. Besides, it sounds equally as bad as it did before. We rebel against the Society George contrived, not his person.”
“And I only ever get to rebel against anything when I am in Brookeside,” Jemma said. “You cannot take that away from me.” Her posture had always been straight and overconfident, but she’d added an extra air of haughtiness to her expression since the summer before. “We must continue to look for ways to right the wrongs of our little world. If there is ever a need to politely and respectfully rebel, Jemma Fielding will be there.”
Miles laughed and favored them with his famous Romeo smile that made every woman within a twenty-five-mile radius swoon. “That’s marginally more believable than our Angel rebelling.” Lisette had always been known as their angel with her pale-yellow hair and soft voice. She was like a sister to them all. “If you want to be a Rebel, Jemma dear, you might have to try a little harder,” he said.
“I’ll give her the opportunity to assist me.” Paul was already thinking of the damage a pretty and assertive young woman like Jemma could do. They’d acted parts in the past to aid their Rebel causes, but this time, Jemma need only be herself. He relaxed in his seat, knowing the Rebels were the answer he sought. Stretching out his legs, he crossed his ankles. “I could use the ladies’ insight into this problem. That is, if my dilemma is the first order of business today.”
Every summer they met together to choose a worthy battle to fight. Last year it had been securing reputable employment for a number of freed slaves. It seemed selfish to make himself the next project. He waited, but no one else spoke. “I’ll get straight to the point. It was hard enough getting Mama to let me away from our esteemed guest long enough to come here in the first place. I’d wager one or the other is waiting by the window for me as we speak.”
“Who is this guest?” Lisette asked.
“Allow me to expound.” Ian stood, his shoulders back with an air of self-importance, as if he were the prime minister himself. He was the oldest in the group and had been their natural leader from the beginning. “We’ve got ourselves a difficult case, Rebels. The town of Brookeside will soon be controlled by its matchmaking mamas.” Ian pointed to Paul. “Paul is merely the first victim of our mothers’ plot to marry us all off. It’s sheer madness, and we must put a stop to it. It’s us or them. Who’s with me?” Ian’s intense ways did not intimidate the Rebels like they did the rest of the world, and he received only a few raised brows and a fake snore from Tom.
“No one?” Ian collapsed back into his seat. “Devil take you all. You were fair warned. One of you will be next, you know.”
“He’s right,” Paul said, taking up where Ian left off, his voice falling into the familiar rhythm it took on when he presented his briefs in court, though his posture was much more relaxed than Ian’s. “They are holding meetings under the guise of a newly formed musical club. All of our mothers were in attendance yesterday, and Jemma, I wouldn’t be surprised if your grandmother was there too. Their intentions might be honorable but at great peril to our agency on the matter.”
Tom turned to Lisette. “I thought that was a more moving speech than Mother Hen’s,” Tom said, employing the nickname Ian despised. “What did you think?”
Lisette giggled. “I refuse to say.”
Tom nodded. “You never were one to take sides, which means you might be an easy target for the matchmaking mamas’ next victim.” He tsked his tongue.
“I will worry when that time comes,” Lisette said. “For now, our thoughts should be for Fisher.” She faced him. “So is the guest you mentioned your intended?”
He shook his head. “Intended is not the right word. Perhaps accomplice would be better, for she has clearly conspired with our mothers.”
“If she is in agreement with them, you might have few options.” Lisette frowned in sympathy. “And if I know you, you’re battling your desire to make your own way in life and marriage with your desire to show deference to your sweet parents. Rest assured we will help in any way we can.”
“Thank you.” He knew they understood his situation better than anyone. Lisette had voiced his greatest concern. He owed his parents the world, as they had given him the same over the years. His mother especially worried him. Upsetting her could adversely affect her health, as she’d always been fragile. Regardless, he couldn’t marry right now. And, he admitted frankly to himself, he couldn’t imagine ever finding anyone who would accept all the complications that came with him.
“Tell us more of your guest,” Miles said. “Is she very hideous? Why does she not meet with your approval?”
“He’ll have to touch her if he marries her,” Tom said. “She could be perfect and have already failed as a candidate because of her expectation for offspring.”
“Ha ha.” He gave Toma dry look, even though he knew his friend’s jest was his way of voicing a valid concern. Paul could touch people; he just didn’t like to. Another scar inflicted on him by Mrs. Hammond. She’d deceived everyone by being outwardly affectionate toward him, but there was never any warmth in her embrace, and Paul had grown to loathe her touch and anyone else’s. It had not been too soon when his parents had separated him from that woman. If only she hadn’t come back into his life to haunt him.
Miles’s question about approval, though, made Paul forget his past for a moment and consider Miss Cox again. It wasn’t that his guest portrayed any obvious flaws but more that her presence represented the violation of his personal rights and commitments.
“Miss Cox is not the enemy, and I daresay our mothers aren’t either,” Paul said carefully. “It’s the principle of the matter. We have a right to make these decisions for ourselves.” As a man of the law, he knew the difference between written and moral obligations. But there was no way he would bend to the pressure, no matter how beautiful Miss Cox was.
“Our Society feels very differently about marriage,” Jemma said. “But you know how we feel about Society, so we will support you in this. I do think we ought to hear the details of this Miss Cox though. Surely, she has motivations for agreeing to this. No sane woman marries a stranger without good reason. Should we include her as an honorary Rebel?”
“Absolutely not!” Ian barked from his chair. “The woman is a subtle temptress if I ever saw one.”
“Really, Ian.” Paul gave a dry laugh. “She is clearly for the arrangement, for reasons I do not understand, but beyond that she is nothing but kind.”
“She is deceiving you already.” Ian looked at the others. “You should’ve seen them smiling at each other last night. It was disgusting. I know Paul tried his best to put her off, but even if he were a monk sworn to celibacy, he’d become a martyr to marriage after too much time in her company.”
