Page 22 of The Gentleman's Confession
Crouched beside her, he couldn’t help but chuckle at their amusing position. “Because Jemma Fielding is headstrong and doesn’t always wait for someone to advise her.”
She stuck out her tongue at him, which made him laugh again. She hadn’t done that in years, and he suspected the impulsive act of juvenility was to cover her blush. “I might not be thinking straight these days,” she muttered.
Oh, he could have told her that the minute she’d walked into the church with her ridiculous confession about marrying a stranger. But underneath her stubborn exterior was a rather tender heart, and he sensed she did not need to hear a list of her mistakes at the moment. “How can I help you?”
She shrugged. “Grandmother let me have my freedom, but she rooted me too. I was so sure about my future. I didn’t know she would die or that all my goals would change. Some days, I feel no different from a cottonwood seed adrift on the wind. Meeting Mr. Bentley has at least given me a sense of purpose.”
He wished he could tell her a list of alternatives to fill her needs instead of the man on the other side of the window. Cheering her up, though, was Miles’s first priority. “I know you, Jemma. Someday, this cottonwood seed will find fertile ground and grow into a strong tree no gust or gale can penetrate.”
Her brows rose. “Promise?”
“I promise. Until then, I will help you spy on Mr. Bentley through the drawing room door so you can be at ease.”
This time, the corners of her lips rose too. “And then you’ll stay and visit with Lisette?”
He hesitated before giving in. “If it pleases you.”
Jemma grinned. The simple smile fueled him with satisfaction and made his ridiculous effort to seek her out worthwhile. “What will you and Lisette talk about?”
Just like that, his satisfaction withered away. “Talk? I don’t know. Maybe we’ll play a game of chess or something.”
“Chess?” Jemma shook her head adamantly. “No, that wouldn’t do. Lisette doesn’t care for it. Besides that’s our game. Or did you forget?”
“Our game?” He smirked. “Is that what it means when you force me to play you every summer so you can beat me?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. “So I’m never allowed to play with anyone else?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose not. I like being the one who trounces you.
They both laughed. “Come on.” He motioned her to follow him. A nagging thought did not allow him to go more than a few feet. What she’d said earlier about her feeling adrift had not settled.He stopped her when they were out of view of the window and could stand again. “One more thing: you know you have friends who would do anything for you, don’t you? If you need to speak to anyone or vanquish them soundly at chess, you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”
She set her hand lightly on his arm, her eyes suddenly glistening. “Thank you, Miles.”
“It’s not just me. All the Rebels are eager to support you.”
She nodded. “I’m quite happy to know we’re all back in Brookeside together. I suppose it isn’t only Grandmother I mourn but my stability too. At least I know Grandmother lived a full life, and it was her time, but I wish I could be so certain about my own future.”
The hurt in her eyes said more than she had. He longed to remove all the heavy burdens she bore. “Change isn’t easy, and I’m proud of you for trying to make the most of it.”
Her smile seemed just for him. “I needed to hear that.”
On a whim, he grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance. He didn’t linger like he had at Mr. Bentley’s dinner party but dropped it and turned away so she would not see his feelings written all over his face. She had no idea how she affected him, and it was getting harder to hide it.
“Er, Miles?”
He shifted back toward her. Her cheeks bloomed into fetching roses. Had she finally felt what he had? His breath suspended. “Yes?”
She cleared her throat. “You ... you tore your breeches.”
“What?” His eyes followed her gaze to his backside. He looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, there was an inch tear along the seam of his seat. When had that happened? His eyes flashed to where they had hovered by the window. How had he not noticed? He quickly angled himself to hide the unsightly rip, hishands going behind his back. Cringing, he muttered, “I suppose I was due for a new pair.”
Amusement danced on her features. “Oh? I heard pantaloons as drafty as old houses were all the rage.”
He caught her reference to his joke from when she had torn her dress. “Very funny.”
She laughed merrily and started walking. “Be glad it was I who discovered you. I happen to believe such folly comes upon the very best of people.”
