Page 32 of The Gentleman's Confession
She stood and dusted off her dress. “Why would aiding such a righteous cause be too much?”
“With the wedding plans and everything.”
“Wedding?” Her eyes dulled. “I had quite forgotten.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “It doesn’t bode well if the bride is more excited for her charity work than for her own wedding, does it?”
“Stop fretting. I shall gather support for the Greek cause on your behalf.”
The worry on her face lessened. “Spoken like a true Rebel.”
Spoken like a man in love, he corrected silently.
“But, Miles, I reserve the right to contribute as many ideas as I can think of.”
Before he could agree, he heard his name being called. Both of them looked toward the path leading back to the church. None other than Miss Rebecca Hardwick was walking toward them, her gown too pink for her ruddy complexion and her sausage curls slapping her face with every step. Worse, she had the same determined look in her eyes as a starving person who had finally discovered her next meal.
Miles jumped to his feet and dusted off his backside.
“Should I hide?” Jemma asked, pointing to the small thicket.
“It’s a little late,” he grumbled, forcing an innocent smile for Miss Hardwick. “Act normal.” It seemed his perfect day was coming to a rapid end.
“Oh, Mr. Jackson!” Miss Hardwick waved her closed fan in the air. “I found you.”
Jemma backed up so she stood directly beside him. “Should I at least make a run for it?”
He pinched the sleeve of her dress and whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me alone.” Miss Hardwick had designs on him, and he would not put it beyond her to frame a scandal.
Miss Hardwick came up to the other side of the bench. “You disappeared out of thin air. But I’ve discovered your hiding place, and I shan’t forget it.” She pointed her fan at him like a long, chastising finger.
“Good day to you, Miss Hardwick,” Jemma said coolly, a timely reminder to Miss Hardwick of her presence.
“Miss Fielding, I did not notice you there.”
Miles did not react. Miss Hardwick was a kind, good person, but she had a tendency toward the ridiculous. She had seen Miss Fielding and, for some reason, had chosen to ignore her. Even so, it would do no good to draw Miss Hardwick’s attention to his and Jemma’s secreted meeting.
“However did the two of you end up all the way out here?” Miss Hardwick’s lashes fluttered at such a rapid pace, it made him dizzy.
Miles opened his mouth to say something and looked to Jemma for help.
“I was ... walking by,” Jemma answered.
Miss Hardwick laughed. “Indeed. I had no assumption otherwise. Everyone knows you have no inclination toward romance or marriage, Miss Fielding, so I shan’t draw any unnecessary conclusions about this happenstance.”
Apparently, Miss Hardwick was unaware of the arrangement with Mr. Bentley. The Matchmaking Mamas could be as discreet as the Rebels, it seemed.
Jemma glowered. “Should I thank you?”
Miles cleared his throat. “Yes, we should both thank Miss Hardwick for not jumping to the wrong conclusion.”
“Well, go on, Miss Fielding,” Miss Hardwick said with another wave of her fan. “You may continue your walk. Do not let us detain you.”
Jemma turned and gave Miles a look. One that said,“She is insufferable!”
“I dare not be caught alone with you, Miss Hardwick,” Miles added quickly. “You do have your reputation to consider. We had all better part ways.”
Miss Hardwick let out a high-pitched whine. “Oh, fiddlesticks. Can I not at least walk you back to the church?”
“No.” Miles and Jemma spoke at the same time.
