A Gentleman's Vow (Saints and Sinners 2)

Jessica was proud that they ignored the London trend. So many married couples there barely spoke to each other in public. That was the sort of marriage she had already vowed not to have. When she wed, it would not be just for her dowry. She wanted what her father had found with Gillian. She wanted to be loved.

Father had invited a few local families to join them tonight. The Hawthornes were there, as were the Forsters and Georges. All neighbors who shared a border with them, actually. And Gideon had kept his word and had never been very far away since his arrival. She was having the most marvelous time and enjoying her conversations with him immensely. They had talked of mutual acquaintances, Gideon’s plans for his garden, and the projected yield rates for the fungus grown at Stapleton Manor—but only whenever Lord James was near.

Now, the dinner was drawing to a close. He would be gone soon.

Lord James, seated on her left, cleared his throat. “I wondered if you might join me tomorrow for a carriage ride to the village. His grace has suggested horses but—”

“A horse ride is a lovely idea. Will everyone join us for a ride to the river tomorrow?” she asked, looking around the table. “We could have a picnic.”

“As long as the journey is not begun before dawn.” Lord Rafferty, a distant neighbor, shrugged. “My cook likes to sleep late.”

It was Lord Rafferty who liked to sleep late. Although he was gruff and at times off-putting, Jessica quite liked the earl. He was a good friend of Gideon’s, and her father’s, too. He always blamed his servants for his tardiness, which no one ever really believed.

“I think we can accommodate your cook, my lord. Perhaps we could meet at eleven if that’s not too early?”

She heard Lord James mutter “perfect.” She smiled but didn’t dare look in his direction. Jessica would make sure to be busy until eleven.

Lord Rafferty sat forward suddenly. “I have a better idea. Mr. Whitfield, are you of a mind to race against me again?”

Rebecca stiffened. “Foolishness. You’ll break your neck.”

Lord Rafferty downed the contents of his wineglass and gestured a servant to refill it again while Rebecca looked on with a sour expression. He looked at the wine and then to Gideon. “Well?”

“Oh, yes, do,” Jessica begged, turning to Gideon in excitement. The last race had been a source of great entertainment for the estates they rode near. Jessica had not been permitted to race herself, nor did she feel the need to do so, now she was older, but she’d be present for the start and glorious finish when Giddy won.

Giddy smiled her way quickly before he addressed their neighbor. “First round the borders wins a crate of Rafferty’s finest wine for their table?”

Lord Rafferty nodded, a fierce light in his eyes. “First to the finish wins a barrel of Quigley Hill Ale. We start and finish from the front drive of your estate, Mr. Whitfield.”

Gideon nodded. “Done.”

“Well, my son shall amuse the ladies and keep them out of harm’s way in your absence,” Lord Newfield announced importantly without asking them their opinion.

Jessica glanced across the table as Rebecca sucked in a sharp breath, just as annoyed by that suggestion as she was. Lord Newfield clearly thought women could not amuse themselves. Another good reason to refuse the son, should he propose.

Lord Rafferty glanced at Rebecca and smirked. “Care to make a wager on the outcome, madam, or would you care to race against us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rebecca said primly. “I’ve better things to do with my time than challenge a pair of foolish men.”

“Suit yourself. Lady Jessica?”

“She will not be racing either,” Rebecca tossed out. “We’ve no need to compete with any man.”

Rebecca’s eyes flashed with anger, primarily directed at Lord Rafferty.

Jessica made a show of considering the matter, and then nodded. “I will watch. And I will gladly place a wager on the outcome,” she informed Lord Rafferty.

She had always cheered for Gideon. She had no doubts about his commitment or skills in the saddle.

However, what she wagered would need to be spelled out now, and she’d already spent her pin money on Gideon. “The winner may have the pleasure of escorting me to the next ball.”

Beside her, Gideon began to choke. “Getting Rafferty to a ball is no small undertaking. He rather famously does not dance, either.”

She glanced at Giddy and smiled serenely. “Then perhaps you had better make sure you win, Mr. Whitfield, so you might have the pleasure of dancing with me instead.”

Everyone at the table laughed and began to place wagers on the outcome, too. Gideon’s brows lifted in surprise at her words, but she wouldn’t retract the challenge. She would dance all night with Gideon if it were allowed. He’d never once stepped on her toes. In fact, when they had danced together, Jessica had often felt she was floating in his arms.

Rebecca excused herself from the table suddenly. Mother excused herself, too, and followed Rebecca into the hall. When her father departed as well a few moments later, Jessica knew it was her responsibility to lead the conversation at the table until their return.