Page 38 of The Gentleman's Confession
Miles’s eyes swung to meet hers, and he grinned. “If they did not wash away in the pond.”
A few moments later, Ian was off his horse, and all three of them were calling out bribes to Alan and promising he wouldn’t get in trouble.
It didn’t take a minute before Alan dropped down from an oak tree branch by Jemma’s mare. “You promise you won’t tell Mama Cassie?”
It was the first time Jemma had heard Alan call CassandraMama. Jemma was so happy to learn he was embracing his new family that much of her ire softened. “Of course not, Alan. Why would you hide from us? We don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I don’t like when people fight.”
Jemma dragged her eyes to Miles, who refused to meet her gaze.
Ian, however, raised his brow. “Is that how Mr. Jackson ended up soaking wet?”
Alan nodded. “They were talking about love and getting married.”
“Were they now?” Ian swung his gaze to the two of them, and Jemma hoped she looked the least guilty.
“Come on, Alan,” Ian said, mounting his horse. “I’ll find you something extra delicious at Bellmont Manor and see that you are brought home.”
Miles helped Alan climb up in front of Ian. Jemma heard Miles whisper to Ian, “Perhaps I should take him ...”
“And leave me to Jemma’s wrath?” Ian shook his head.
“I heard that!” Jemma’s hands fell to her hips.
“Do play nice, both of you,” Ian said. “This smells strongly of matchmaking mischief, and I want to be as far from it as possible.”
“Coward,” Jemma said, and not under her breath either. Ian’s smile widened. He kicked his horse, and he and Alan rode away.
With Ian’s horse gone, she went to untie her own. She moved her mare over to a stump she often used as a mounting block.
“Jemma, we should talk.” Miles’s voice was soft, pleading.
“I should like that,” Jemma said. “Once you get your head on straight, we shall have a lovely little chat. Do let me know when it happens.”
“Jemma, you haven’t let me explain.”
“Explain how you plan to break my cousin’s heart?” She shook her head. “My own heart is heavy enough without adding this to everything. I’m sorry, Miles, but I need you to reconsider.” She kicked her mount and sent the mare flying away from the upper pond, gathering speed as she went.
Rubbish lessons.
She would have to learn how to capture Mr. Bentley’s affection and stir up her own all by herself. Mr. Romantic should change his name to Mr. Happiness Killer.
Poor Lisette.
When Jemma reached a safe distance from the upper pond, she reined in her mare. Her chest catching and tears forming.But it wasn’t for Lisette that she cried. It was for her own miserable heart. A heart that had nearly betrayed her moments ago in Miles’s arms—the same reason she had to push him into the water.
When he had said he couldn’t marry Lisette, for one brief moment, she had hoped it to be true.
She was a wretched person and an even worse friend.
She urged her mount to run faster. No. She wasn’t going to think of Miles in any other way than as her confidant and adviser. She would go to Mr. Bentley’s house for his party come Friday night and dance and play court to him.
Miles was meant for Lisette, and everyone knew it.
Everyone, that was, except for the tiniest corner of her being. The wind whipped against her gown and blew through her hair, but it did not blow away the tormenting truth. Despite years of convincing herself otherwise, a sliver of her heart believed Miles had always been meant for her.
CHAPTER 17
