Page 29 of The Gentleman's Confession
He gave a succinct nod, as if a lesson were preferable to the talk of wagers and kissing. “The theme this time is sacrifice. Think of something dear to you that you can give up for a time.”
“Is this from your prayer book? I don’t see how on earth it will help me fall in love with Mr. Bentley.”
“Relationships rely on personal sacrifice. If love is solely self-
serving, it chokes the other person. This is merely practice. Then you can make a reasonable concession to support Mr. Bentley’s happiness.”
“Have you tried this before? Have you given something up for someone else?”
His brown eyes studied her. She saw a hint of sadness and perhaps regret. Whatever he had sacrificed was something momentous.
She was surprised when he said, “I gave up my time working so I can be with you.”
His soft words, like the water trickling over the rocks in front of them, tickled her senses. Miles might be her best friend next to Lisette, but he had no idea his effect on women. It was a good thing Jemma had painstakingly built a wall of resistance against his charms to keep him safe for her cousin.
She swallowed and pulled her gaze away. “Very well, I will give up my pin money.”
“Will it be a sacrifice?”
She wriggled in her seat. “I had planned to buy a book of sewing patterns.”
Miles was trying not to smile, she could tell. “You don’t sew.”
She scowled. “No, but you don’t know everything about me. I have aspirations for an important project. I’ve spent several months setting everything in order.”
Curiosity peaked his brow. “A Rebel project?”
“Isn’t that the only kind of project I could possibly desire to undertake?”
“I have a feeling you are going to tell me all about your dealings, despite how secretive you claim them to be.” He motioned for her to continue.
“And why not? Someone ought to be privy to my brilliance.” Jemma spent the next quarter hour telling Miles all her plans to publish her designs in a fashion magazine under a false name. “I’m waiting to hear back, but my modiste friends have assured me that the drawings will sell.”
“I have no doubt they will.”
She grinned and told him the next part, how she intended to donate the proceeds to the poor, listing a few charities in London he might be familiar with.
Miles smiled and nodded at all the right parts and even added his opinion on how to improve upon her business plan. His suggestions were always quietly offered but brilliant.
When Jemma began her walk home after their hour was up, she was creating stunning gowns in her head to steal the attention of fashion-hungry debutantes. She spared a thought about how to accomplish her tasks in the next few weeks without her pin money, but she all but forgot her motivation for doing so. In fact, Mr. Bentley seemed the furthest thing from her mind.
CHAPTER 13
Jemma hadn’t anything against religion,but ever since Miles had become the vicar, she had stopped attending services in Brookeside. It had turned from a place of worship into a gathering place for Miles’s admirers, and she couldn’t stomach the disgusting scene. Today, however, she’d decided to make an exception because Lady Kellen had stopped by for a visit Friday morning and had not so subtly invited her to church, where she might bump into Mr. Bentley.
Since he had mentioned how he supported religion, Jemma had decided she would indeed attend. As a fan of practicality in everything but perhaps fashion—although she would vote some exception there too—Jemma had begun to see the opportunity to go to church as a way of accomplishing her exercises from lessons one and two. She would prove that she could listen and sacrifice.
Seated next to Lisette on the Manning pew, Jemma quietly observed the service. It was as bothersome as ever to see a congregation primarily made up of women and how everyone became excited over everything Miles did and said. However, it was not quite as bad as she remembered. She heard only one or two sighs of longing coming from the row opposite hers.
Rebecca Hardwick, with her too-big hair and hungry eyes, needed a hobby besides husband hunting. Jemma speared her with a glare.
Despite her preoccupation with her annoyances, Jemma found her gaze inevitably carrying again and again to Miles. He was reverent and steady and had the look of a brooding poet. Couldshe blame anyone for coming to watch him? She really couldn’t. Not everyone was immune to Miles Jackson as she was. In truth, it had taken substantial effort to get to that point, but now that she was there, all it took was one look at Lisette next to her to remember her resolutions.
Where was Mr. Bentley? She looked around for him, finally spotting him in the back. When the service ended, Louisa and Paul stopped her for a moment, and by the time she reached Mr. Bentley, he was outside speaking to Lady Kellen in the church’s front garden. Jemma hastily moved to join them.
“Miss Fielding,” Mr. Bentley said, dipping his head to acknowledge her. “It was a beautiful service, was it not?”
“Very beautiful.”
