“These are damnable reasons, James.” This said, she turned her face back against the tree. “Go away. I have nothing more to say to you. You didn’t ruin me. I’m not your responsibility. I told you what I planned to do with my future. I will own my own stud and racing stable. I will succeed.”
“You have about as much chance of success as Charles does in growing a complete set of teeth in the next week. Don’t be an ass about this, Jessie.”
“I see it clearly now,” she said slowly, turning to look up at him again. “Spears and company came to see you. They told you that you had to marry me. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“This was all your own idea?”
“Yes.” Distraction, he thought, that was what he needed, and thank the good Lord he had it. He didn’t think he was a much better liar than Jessie. “I’ve got a letter from your father for you.”
Thunder cracked overhead. It was midafternoon and the sky was a muddy gray, darkening by the minute.
That brought her around. “A letter from Papa?”
“Yes, he gave it to me to give to you. Do you want to read it?”
“Have you read it?”
“Naturally not. It’s addressed to you.”
She frowned as she opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of folded paper. She read:
My dearest Jessie:
I hope James has found you and you’re safe and well. I am more worried about you than I can say. You must marry James and come home as soon as possible. If dear James hasn’t yet come to reason, you must propose to him. He’s a gentleman. He’ll accept you. Come home, Jessie—
Your loving father,
Oliver Warfield
Without a word, she handed the letter to James. She didn’t look at him while he read it. She couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face. She looked up to see that the sky was now nearly black. They would never make it back to th
e house before the heavens opened up and made a good effort to drown them. She pushed off the tree and began walking back toward Chase Park.
James fell in beside her. He was looking thoughtful, not particularly angry. “Would you have proposed to me, Jessie?” he asked at last, “if I hadn’t proposed to you?”
“No.”
He shook his head, took her hand, and said, “Let’s hurry. Your streamers won’t weather this storm well.”
Jessie picked up her skirts again and ran beside James, laughing even as the first raindrop fell on her nose. They came around the corner of the great mansion to see Fred closing in on Clorinda, her tail feathers pressed against the stone.
“Fred, you lecher,” Jessie shouted. “Let her go.”
James was laughing as Fred turned on them and squawked as loudly as the next clap of thunder. James grabbed Jessie’s arm and pulled her along with him. “He might attack us for our interference with his ladylove. Come along, we’re nearly to a door.”
They were just a bit damp when they rushed through the long glass doors in the massive Chase Park library.
“The letter,” Jessie said. “Where is it?”
“I tucked it in my pocket to keep it dry.” They both turned to the long glass doors when there was another loud clap of thunder. A streak of lightning sliced through the sky. The rain was coming down in earnest now.
“That was close,” Jessie said, patting a curl that curved around her cheek. “I think my streamers survived.”
“Yes, they did.” He wrapped one streamer around his finger. It was softer than it should be, even damp. When he released it, it fell lazily over her ear down to her neck. “But you must take care. You don’t want to risk Maggie’s displeasure, though she normally doesn’t have to show any.”
“Do you really think I look like a trollop when I’m wearing clothes that fit me?”