Page 24 of The Gentleman's Confession
“They are better than last time, I promise.”
“Please, thank your cook, but I must decline.” Miles held his hand up to the basket before whirling it to the other side to keep Miss French from reaching his hair again.
Jemma took the moment of distraction to say to Miss Scones, “Mr. Jackson eats too many sweet things.” Jemma didn’t even bother to whisper over the noisy ladies next to them.
“Nonsense.” The woman brushed her aside, annoyance written all over her face.
Jemma leaned toward her once more. “He could use more meat in his diet. I bet women bring him scones all the time anyway.”
The other women sent her looks of annoyance amid their attempts to monopolize Miles’s attention. Heaven forbid she encroach on their embarrassing petitions. They picked right back up with their incessant talking, but she caught Miss Scones’s elbow, pulling her gently back a step and whispering, “Meat would make you stand out from the others.” Meat? Had she really just said that?
Miss Scones froze. “Really?”
Jemma shrugged. How would she know if meat appealed as a gift offering? She personally would take the scones. However, she was being honest that it would make her stand out. Either way, the seed was planted and was sprouting before her eyes.
Miss Scones’s mouth turned into a deep pout. Her companions had shifted their bodies to push her farther from Miles, their petitions consuming his full attention. She took a long, disappointing glance at her basket and was off, muttering about meat with every step.
Two more to go and Miles was already going to be the lucky recipient of more markers for his favorite verses and meat to balance out his persistent sweet tooth. Jemma took a hard look at Miss Hardwick. She had the biggest hair Jemma had ever seen and the conniving look in her eyes was far more determined than any of the others. She and her little pug would be hard to dissuade, but Miss French would not intimidate her. She had to stop petting Miles’s hair. It was exasperating to watch.
“I am happy to pray for your puppy, Miss Hardwick,” Miles said. “Miss French, please do stop touching my hair.”
“But you promised to gift me a lock of it,” Miss French said. “I have been waiting for months.”
“I never promised,” Miles said more to Jemma than Miss French.
Jemma’s eagerness to help waned for a moment. If she were not so eager for her lesson, and a bit disgusted, she might be entertained by all this.
“He can give you a lock later,” Miss Hardwick said. “My puppy is sick. Look at him!”
Jemma lifted onto her toes to see the pug, who seemed quite overfed and happily dozing in Miss Hardwick’s arms.
Miss French scowled. “But I want what was promised me!”
Running off women was not Jemma’s area of expertise, but surely as a Rebel, she could think of some way to help Miles to the bitter end. But if he had really promised this woman his hair, Jemma could be induced to shave it all off to restore Lisette’s honor.
“Wait until he gets rid of the lice,” Jemma blurted.
Miss French pulled back; revulsion smeared across her face. “Lice?”
“They are not so uncommon, but his is a particularly nasty case. Does it itch badly, Mr. Jackson?” Jemma asked.
Miles glowered at her.
She did not know what possessed her to continue such a charade, but there was no backing down now. Shetskedher tongue and gave him her best commiserating look. “Poor thing.”
Miss Hardwick held her dog a bit closer to her chest, and for the first time, her eyes were not quite so besotted.
“I—I heard of a remedy with turpentine,” Miss French said. “I will fetch you some, Mr. Jackson and bring it directly to your home.”
“Better try it yourself,” Jemma added. “You have already been exposed by touching him so many times. I would refrain from it in the future.” Miss Hardwick nodded deeply in agreement.
“I did not think of that,” Miss French said, scratching her head and taking a step back.
“Terribly itchy, isn’t it?” Jemma asked.
“Miss Fielding,” Miles chided.
She had gone too far, but her annoyance with Miss French was all the justification she needed at present. She looked at Miles with as much innocence as she could muster and shrugged.
