Page 5 of The Gentleman's Confession
“Of course not. I will coordinate my daily walk with your schedule. I have already been insisting on taking long walks alone for the last month in preparation. No one will be the wiser.”
Miles ran his hand through his hair but snagged a finger on an obnoxious black coil of hair. “Very well. One lesson, but that is it.”
“It will take at least ten.”
“Five and no more.”
“Done!” Jemma released him and skirted out the door. “Get some rest. We have a great deal of work to do!” She knew she had trapped him, the little vixen, and wasn’t going to stay long enough for him to change his mind.
He shook his head after her. This was all Mrs. Fielding’s fault, God rest her soul. Her death now seemed suspiciously convenient. She exacted a promise from Jemma and then hid in heaven, where she could safely watch without taking responsibility. He sighed. He did not really think such terrible things about Mrs. Fielding. But would that he could change places with her now. He had a feeling teaching Jemma how to love another man would kill him anyway.
CHAPTER 3
Jemma paced the stretch ofthe Manning House drawing room, hoping to stir up a breeze. Normally, the cozy space dressed up in crémes and soft pinks was a favorite of hers. Not today, however. There could be no comfort found on the day she was to meet her future husband. Lifting her hand, she fanned air into her face. “I fear the room is overheated,” she said sheepishly to Lady Kellen.
“Oh? I am perfectly comfortable.” The countess sat regally in her chair, not a blonde hair out of place and likely not a gland in her body even capable of sweating. She was the head of the Matchmaking Mamas in Brookeside, and Jemma had long been in awe of her. Unfortunately, while Lady Kellen was a paragon of women for all to emulate, Jemma was a walking anomaly—a bluestocking who had cried off marriage and the confines of Society only to come crawling back to its comforts and the sudden appeal of a lifelong companion.
Jemma batted her hand all the harder, producing very little reprieve. The contrast between Lady Kellen, the matchmaking goddess, and Jemma, the lonely orphan with ideas far bigger than herself, felt especially acute today.
Jemma ceased her pacing. “Should I request chilled lemonade be brought up for you instead of tea?”
“Truly, I am at ease, Miss Fielding. I have always found the late spring weather in Brookeside suits me.” Lady Kellen motioned to the large bay window behind them.
Was the weather one of the reasons Lady Kellen spent such little time in London with her husband during the parliamentarySeason? Would Jemma soon avoid her husband for the weather too? She followed Lady Kellen’s gaze to the window, half dreading to see a carriage pull up. Itwasa fine spring day. A soft breeze lifted the newly grown leaves on the trees, which meant the infernal heat was coming from inside her.
She went back to pacing and hoping for improved air circulation. After another few moments, she asked Lady Kellen, “When did you say Mr. Bentley was arriving?”
“I expect him at any moment.” Lady Kellen smoothed her perfectly pressed dress, a classic white muslin that appeared far more expensive and beautiful because of the wearer.
Jemma adored the minor distinctions of fashion, but her mind couldn’t focus on what made the dress so perfect. Not when atany moment, her life would change dramatically.
The door opened, and her heart jumped into her throat.
Miles walked in, his black locks atop his head better suited for a palace painting than a man so soon off a horse. And not another sight could be more pleasant to ease her anxious self. Simply knowing he was near allowed her to breathe again. His kind, brown eyes found hers, and his lips moved up on one side, revealing a hint of a dimple. More relief soared through her, fueling her legs toward him and the comfort his presence brought. She wasn’t going to face this alone after all.
“Miles,” she whispered when she reached him. “I wasn’t certain if you would arrive in time.”
He frowned as he observed her, keeping his own voice low. “Are you well?” He lifted one hand to cup her elbow, but she grabbed it, squeezing it with all her might.
“In body but not of mind.” She was doing her utter best to keep the dramatics to a minimum, but she could not recall being more nervous in her entire life. “Heis supposed to be here soon, and I cannot seem to collect myself.”
Miles glanced around the room, his eyes settling on Lady Kellen. “Where are Lisette and Mrs. Manning?”
Jemma hesitated. Of course he would want to see Lisette while he was here, but Jemma had regretfully sent her away. “I asked my aunt to take Lisette to town this morning.” While her aunt had known about the arrangement, Jemma had begged her not to tell Lisette just yet. She would probably turn into a watering pot and beg Jemma not to shortcut her happiness. Since Jemma would do anything for Lisette, it was better to keep her away as long as possible.
Miles squeezed her hand back, the warmth there not at all intolerable, like the rest of the room. “You need to tell her.”
“I couldn’t!” she mumbled. “You know how close we are. I hate to disappoint her.” It was probably hard for Miles to keep a secret from Lisette when the two were so loyal to each other. She supposed real love did that to a person. She quickly added, “But your presence is all I need, so I am certain I will feel better soon. And I so dearly want to hear your opinion.” Miles was more than an older-brother figure in her life; he was a man who held her greatest esteem. He’d been there for her since they were children, even though half the town had come to rely on him for one thing or another.
“Jemma . . .”
Before he could lecture her, she turned to include Lady Kellen in their conversation. She hastily dropped Miles’s hand, hoping Lady Kellen hadn’t seen. “Lady Kellen, I hope you do not mind, but I invited Mr. Jackson to join us this morning. I thought he could welcome Mr. Bentley to the neighborhood with us.”
“Welcome him to the neighborhood? I must have misheard,” Miles said, stepping forward. “This Mr. Bentley ... he is toresidehere? In Brookeside?”
“Then, you didn’t know,” Lady Kellen answered. “The Kensington House has been purchased at last. Isn’t it delightful?”
“No one seemed to know the name of the new owner,” Miles said.
