Page 72 of The Gentleman's Confession
“Not amusing,” Ian said curtly. “We need a way to deflect attention from the scandal. It might be the only way to recover a few reputations.”
“Including Miles’s,” Paul added.
Ian rubbed his prominent, dimpled chin. “Right. Protecting your employment is essential. I don’t want the hassle of acclimating this town to a new vicar.”
“Always the thoughtful one.” Miles smirked, but inwardly he was struggling. He had come to count on his position forsecurity, but his job meant so much more to him than a salary. One decision had cost him so much. “Please worry about Jemma and Lisette over my place at the vicarage. I volunteer to humiliate myself again if it means protecting their names.”
No one looked particularly thrilled about his pronouncement. They sat in a stupor for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts.
Tom snapped his fingers, breaking the silence. “I have it. If Miles intends to embarrass himself, there is one thing we know he hates.”
Miles raised his brow. “When women ask if they can have my hair made into a wig for them to wear?”
They all stared in disbelief.
“Women do that?” Paul asked.
“It’s happened a few times,” Miles said reluctantly.
“Actually, I was thinking along the lines of your town role as Mr. Romantic,” Tom said. “We need to think of something along that vein.”
“Absolutely,” Ian answered, smiling smugly. “Sacrifice hurts.” He was clearly still mad at Miles for hurting Jemma and Lisette.
Miles groaned. “The very subject got me in trouble in the first place.” He was already suffering from following his heart, it hardly seemed fair to wound himself further. But if it protected Jemma, he wouldn’t hesitate.
“What about a charity auction?” Paul suggested. “It’s a sizable distraction and something generous would go a long way in healing relations with the town and certain hurt Rebels.”
A charity auction. The idea had merit. The town might grow enthused enough to overlook his ungentlemanly behavior. Most importantly, it would give them something to talk about besides Jemma.
“I like it,” Ian declared, pointing at Paul. “We can offer a grand prize worthy of Mr. Romantic himself.”
The pieces came together, and he groaned. “Wait, you want to auction me off?” He sank against the sofa cushion, regretting everything. “I am not sure I have the stomach for you to sell me in marriage to the highest bidder.”
“Stomach ...” Tom mumbled. “That’s it. You don’t have to marry them, just eat with them. A picnic with Mr. Miles Jackson—Brookeside’s mosthumbleand generous vicar. Chaperoned, of course.”
“Won’t people be displeased that I am picnicking with every available woman in town after the scandal I just created?”
Paul nodded. “I’ll find a few more men willing to be auctioned for a picnic so you blend in,” Paul said. “But we will set our hopes on your previous reputation. Besides, these are women who you have made yourself unavailable to in the past. You are giving them limited access. It’s a diversion at its finest.”
Miles gave him a flat stare. “You’re doing a terrible job at convincing me.”
“Only one woman would get a picnic with you, obviously,” Tom said, his eyes going to the ceiling. “And it will be about the charity. It’s in the presentation. Mind you, the women will have their private motivations, and we can’t help that. Once they think they have a chance with you, they will forget all about your supposed interest in another.”
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me when it’s over.”
“Well done, Rebels,” Ian said. “It will be an unprecedented auction. If we don’t shock the town’s sensibilities, it might just work.”
Miles hoped for the best. He had never hurt so many people. He was sick about it. Especially when Jemma was only a floor above him and wasn’t even speaking to him.
Paul clasped his hands behind his back. “It would be precautionary more than a perfect solution. But we have worked with less before.”
Miles slapped his hands on his knees. “We should head out to the field and start warming up.”
Tom grinned. “For cricket or for the announcement of the charity auction?”
Miles grimaced. “Both.”
CHAPTER 32
