Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The best and worst part of the town of Brookeside was its small size. The consuming thought bounced in Jemma's head with every step of her horse. She had made it only until dinner yesterday, the very day she had made Mr. Bentley's acquaintance, before she had received a written summons to the Dome for a Rebel meeting today. It was signed by Lord Reynolds. She had not even known Ian had returned from the London Season, but it seemed he'd discovered her news upon his arrival.

She had yet to see Tom and Paul and their wives since their return, which meant the Rebels were to be reunited at last. The thought of being surrounded by all her dearest friends warmed her heart. But who had spilled her secret to Ian? Miles wouldn't have said anything, and not just because of his clerical position, so Ian must have heard it from his mother, Lady Kellen. He had a way of gleaning information when he wanted to.

Despite Jemma's excitement to be with her friends, she wasn't ready to face the onslaught of opinions about her choice to marry ... or the method to find said husband. Ignoring the tug of wind at her bonnet, she leaned into her mare and urged her faster, even though it meant losing Lisette somewhere behind her. She wanted to gain enough speed for all her problems to blur into oblivion.

The sun warmed her back when she reached the mounting block at the Dome. She slid off her mare to the block, then jumped to the ground. Despite her hasty finish, she'd taken her time in leaving, and her friends were already inside waiting —except for Lisette, who had not kept pace, as Jemma had predicted, and had yet to arrive. Tying her horse up with the others, Jemma leaned against the slender white posts to wait for Lisette. She untied her bonnet and tipped her head back, daring the sun to leave a map of freckles on her face. The dratted things would be easier to face than a discussion about her decisions.

By the time Lisette arrived and dismounted, Jemma had resigned herself to the inevitability of what was coming.

"That was some bruising ride." Lisette came up beside Jemma, removing her own bonnet and taming her fair blonde hair before linking their arms together. "You must be eager to hear what the meeting is about. I know I am curious. Miles did not have the least idea either when I saw him early this morning."

Lisette regularly dropped by her charitable offerings to the church, but everyone knew it was their excuse to see each other.

Jemma touched her own dark hair, realizing it must be a mess too. She forced the brown tresses into submission before giving a guilty nod. "We will know soon enough what Ian has gathered us for." She stole a glance at the Palladian-style Dome. Was it just her, or were the gray-white pillars a little prison-like in appearance today?

Lisette tugged Jemma through the door. Once inside, they both put their hands over their hearts and curtsied, a recommitment to their rebel pledge to help those in need.

"Please, don't stand," Jemma said quickly, grateful the Dome allowed some freedom from the constant social protocols. "You all look terribly comfortable."

Ian, sitting on his lime-green throne of putrid, as they had called the decrepit chair for years, met her gaze. With his tall form stretched out, he rubbed his chin, his whole expression deeply perplexed.

She quickly broke connection with him. He knew. He definitely knew. Miles was seated next to Paul and his wife, Louisa, on one of two sagging sofas. Paul's russet hair was combed neatly, but his usual serious demeanor was more relaxed than past years. Louisa had much to do with it. Her heart-shaped face and warm smile could charm anyone into happiness. Jemma met the couple's smile with one of her own, but Miles's head was bent over his prayer book and did not lift to greet her. Her cheeks warmed suddenly, remembering his heroic efforts to keep her underthings from being seen.

The heat of his nearness behind her had sent her head into a tailspin. How was she ever going to get married when she couldn't even handle her dearest friend so near her? Was he as embarrassed as she? He couldn't even meet her gaze.

She was dying to know his thoughts about Mr. Bentley, too, but it would have to wait a little longer. She tore her eyes away from the top of his curly head and waved at Tom and his wife, Cassandra, who sat together on the sofa opposite the others. Tom appeared merry as ever with his wide grin and mischievous glint in his eyes. Cassandra was much demurer in comparison, with her modestly trimmed dress and elegantly coiffed blonde hair. But underneath her prim appearance was a strong, capable woman who managed better than anyone to keep Tom in line at the same time as their capricious son, Alan, who they'd taken in to raise.

Seeing everyone together was a balm for her soul. For a brief moment, she forgot the reason they were gathered. Until she sat down. She was seated with Lisette on the chairs opposite where Ian sat, completing their makeshift circle. Unfortunately, from this position, it was hard not to meet Ian's studious gaze.

"Well, Mother Hen?" Tom said, employing Ian's nickname. "We're all here now. Did you simply miss us and our meetings, or were you eager to converse about something in particular?"

Ian didn't look away from Jemma for a second. "Why don't we let Jemma tell us?"

"Vixen?" Tom whipped his gaze her way. The sharp way he said her nickname made her squirm. "Have you been keeping a secret from us?"

Cassandra nudged her outspoken husband with her elbow. "If she has a secret, there is probably good reason."

Tom gave an exaggerated wince and rubbed his side. Jemma nearly laughed. Finally, someone had reined in their club's insufferable tease. He might turn out to be a decent baron after all.

Paul cleared his throat, reminding her that the topic was still at her feet. "Well, it's not going to be a secret any longer," Paul said. "The Matchmaking Mamas had a meeting last night, and Ian and I managed to catch the sum of their scheming."

Good heavens, Paul had his official barrister look about him. He definitely knew too.

"Jemma doesn't have any secrets," Lisette said decisively, putting her arm around Jemma's shoulders. She was a little taller and a few months older and had the tendency to mother Jemma. Which was one of the reasons Jemma hadn't told her the truth yet.

Lisette continued, her soft voice sweet and soothing. "If our mothers are mixed up in some grand plan to find her a husband, we will have to put the idea to rest at once. No one is more adamant against marriage than Jemma is. Well, except for maybe Ian. And I insist on her being left alone."

Lisette did not insist on much, so Jemma's guilt multiplied.

Ian shrugged. "I would say the same if Jemma were still against the idea of marriage."

"What do you mean if ?" Lisette shook her head. "Of course she is." She squeezed Jemma's shoulders, giving her a side hug. "We will take care of everything."

Jemma didn't cry much, but she was on the verge. She would never intentionally hurt Lisette. Not for the world. Lisette was her hero. The older sister in her life.

"Why not let Jemma answer for herself?" Ian straightened in his seat, his gaze piercing hers. "Whatever you say, there isn't a wrong answer. I certainly won't understand it, but you won't be the first nor the last to cave to the Matchmaking Mamas."

Jemma swallowed. "I, uh ..." She looked up at Lisette, who let her arm fall away from Jemma's back. "I am sorry I did not tell you sooner."

Lisette's light-blue eyes blinked several times. "Tell me what?"

"I know I have boldly declared I have no need of a man in my life, but I humbly retract the statement. I am soon to be engaged to Mr. Walter Bentley, the new owner of Kensington House." The words cut when they tore from her mouth. She had betrayed everyone in the room, including herself. There was more than one gasp, but only one mattered: Lisette's.

"Jemma, I don't know what to say," her cousin managed.

"Please, don't be angry with me, Cousin. I promised Grandmother on her deathbed that I would marry and ..." She hesitated, deciding in the last moment to omit any mention of love. She couldn't bear a discussion on that too. "And I couldn't tell anyone because I was afraid you'd talk me out of it."

Silence followed her announcement, and a heavy air of unease settled around the room. A year ago, she had been one of the ones most against arranged marriages. Her friends knew that. They knew the idea of marriage in general had never suited her. What must they think of her now?

"Did they give you time to become acquainted with Mr. Bentley?" Louisa asked, her ever-constant smile warming the room. Paul set his hand on his wife's back, no doubt his silent support of her participation.

Louisa and Cassandra were as much Rebels now as the rest of them after the last year, so Jemma had no qualms answering. "We have agreed on six weeks. In fact, I met him just yesterday for the first time." She glanced at Miles, but his eyes were still on his prayer book. Was he trying to keep his part a secret? She was grateful to have at least one person on her side.

"What did you think of him?" Cassandra asked.

"He was nice." Jemma shrugged her shoulders. He had been nice, but why could she not think of a single other descriptor of him?

"Handsome?" Cassandra prompted.

She thought on how to answer. His features were not so perfectly sculpted like Miles's, but it was not fair to compare anyone to Miles. "I believe many would call Mr. Bentley handsome."

Lisette touched her arm. "Is this really what you want, Jemma? Because if so, you know we will support you."

"It is," Jemma reached over and took Lisette's hand. "I know it's hard to believe, and I know you must be angry, but I've been warming to the idea since Grandmother's death. Now that I have met Mr. Bentley, I can truly invest in my decision. I know it sounds impossible, but in the last six months, I've started to see myself and the world differently." She did not dare admit to any of her reservations. This was the time to convince them of her way of thinking, not to give them reason to sway her otherwise. "I hope you can all understand my decision. Not all my goals have changed, but I want what Grandmother had—a family—a legacy to leave behind. And after watching Tom and Paul, I've learned I can still be me and be married."

"So long as Mr. Bentley is the right man," Miles said, and all their gazes swung to him. His prayer book was closed on his lap, his expression blank.

Jemma frowned. What did Miles mean exactly?

Lisette reached for Jemma's hand. "Listen to Miles. There is not a better judge of character." She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling in adoration before returning to Jemma. "You ought not rush into anything."

"I concur." Ian rubbed his thumb across his prominent, dimpled chin again. "We must all get to know Mr. Bentley to see if he is Rebel material. Jemma deserves to be yoked to an equal partner in marriage, and we all know how rare that is." He was likely speaking of his parents. Despite Ian's grievances against his father and his parents' marriage, Lady Kellen was a strong figure in Brookeside, who seemed content with her situation. If that was all Jemma was allowed to be after her marriage, certainly she could find a way to live with it.

"I am happy to help however I can," Lisette said. Her cousin had earned her nickname of Angel a million times over, but this time might mean the most. Lisette's happiness and friendship were everything to Jemma, and she had spent most of her life fiercely guarding their close relationship. She committed to never hurt her cousin again.

Looking across the Dome, Jemma beamed with relief. All her friends were the best in the world. Why had she doubted telling them?

Jemma met Miles's gaze, and he held it for a moment. How she wished she could read him in moments like this. Was he prompting her to tell them about the second half of her promise? The part about falling in love? No, she wouldn't do it. She couldn't possibly confess such a thing to anyone else. It was silly and ... personal.

But how she wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he detest Mr. Bentley? Approve of him? Why had he questioned Mr. Bentley's worth? His brown eyes swung away from her, and she was left wondering. Tomorrow's walk would give her the answers she sought. There was no time to waste. She needed Miles's guidance if she were ever to figure out this love business, and dear heavens, he had his work cut out for him.

She believed a woman ought to make a fool of herself at least once in front of a man, if only to assure him she was indeed human and imperfect. She had accomplished that feat her first day in front of Mr. Bentley. But such a task was not usually the first impression. Now she must enamor him before her awkwardness seared itself into his mind forever. She was depending on Miles to save her.