Page 20 of Twelve Drummers Drumming

What were the chances?

Jemima coughed. “No harm done, Captain Rotherham, you need not trouble yourself.”

“You must allow me to apologize, at least,” said Captain Rotherham frankly, moving forward and taking two of the bundles from her arms under one of his.

Jemima gave them up wordlessly, barely taking in that they were once again standing in the middle of the pavement, obstructing all others.

“I shall allow it,” she said. “But only if you walk with me.”

He hesitated.

Jemima thought in a panic she had been too forward, asked too much of him. After all, she scolded herself, he was a captain in the British army! He probably had countless errands on official business, and he did not have time to dilly dally with—

“It would be my pleasure,” Captain Rotherham said gently. “But only,” he added, “if we both agree to swear off one particular topic completely.”

Jemima raised an eyebrow. “Afraid you’ll be out-argued?”

With a shake of his head, Captain Rotherham smiled. “No such thing—but I am so much more than what I have done for the last few years, just as I am sure you are far more than just a beautiful face. I would have you know that man also.”

Jemima smiled tentatively, a smile that broadened when it was returned.

This was not the sort of thing that happened to Jemima Fitzroy! This was wild; it was incredible; it was just not possible.

Yet Captain Rotherham seemed genuinely interested in her company. In her body.

No, that was not right. Jemima pushed the thought aside, conscious that he was still standing right before her. She must not make herself foolish. Once Hugh met any of her sisters, if he did attend the engagement ball, he would surely become enamored with another Fitzroy. Arabella, maybe. Esther, certainly.

Shifting her weight so as to balance her precious charges, Jemima said, slightly breathlessly, “Which direction are you headed, Captain Rotherham?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Whichever way you are.”

Jemima had grown up in London, knew all the streets by heart. She was only but five minutes’ walk from home, far too short a distance to have with Captain Rotherham.

She would take a long cut.

“This way then,” she said, gesturing to her left.

He fell in beside her, still clutching her bundles tied with string.

As they moved through London, Jemima was acutely aware of the small distance between them. At times it was only two or three inches, at others, her pelisse brushed up against his coat.

She had taken off her gloves in the last shop, and had decided not to put them on again—a decision she was now reveling in. Being so close to him, able to feel the coarseness of his coat as the back of her hand grazed past him…it made Jemima forget where she was going, as she longed for the excuse to rid herself of all her sisters’ parcels and take his arm, to take his hand…

Captain Rotherham coughed. “You have certainly been on a fine shopping expedition, Miss Fitzroy! Are all of these in preparation for your sister’s engagement ball?”

Jemima laughed and was pushed aside slightly by a pedestrian approaching from the opposite direction. Her arm grazed Captain Rotherham’s.

“In a way, yes,” she admitted, “though I deny the suggestion they are all mine!”

He returned her laughter. “Yes, it would indeed be fantastic! Are some of these for your sister—what did Mr. Fitzroy say…Caroline?”

Jemima’s smile immediately disappeared, a strange pang twisting her stomach. How long had that taken? Two minutes, even less?

Now that they were on the topic of her sisters, she had lost him completely. Arabella or Esther would scoop him up, and she would only see him when he came to call for them.

“Miss Fitzroy?”

Realizing to her embarrassment she had been silent for far too long to be considered civil, Jemima said quickly as she directed them down a left-hand road, “I have five sisters, Captain Rotherham, and so any shopping expedition undertaken by one tends to be excessive.”

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