Harry straightened his cuffs. “The jeweler wishes to know when you’ll pay him for the necklace. He seems rather anxious. Is it very expensive?”
“Necklace?” Murray slammed his fork down flat.
“It’s not expensive at all.” Jessica knew how to play the game now, and she smoothed her gown, calling attention to the fine pelisse of green poplin trimmed with cream-colored velvet. “Twenty pounds, and worth every penny.”
“Twenty pounds.” Murray’s voice was rising. “Twenty—”
“Did the shoemaker say if my new slippers were ready?” Jessica’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked back at Murray. “I would never have thought it, but I found a marvelous shoemaker in the village, and ordered twenty pairs of dancing shoes in every color. After all, one can scarcely expect to know the popular color next year, so I must be prepared.” Putting her finger to her cheek, she looked thoughtful. “I wonder if I should order all new gowns, too.”
Murray stood, leaned his fists on the table, and towered over Jessica. “I’ve arrived just in time, I see, before you fritter away your fortune on trinkets and baubles. The money should be spent on the land, on horses, on family, and I’m going to keep you on the straight and narrow from now on.”
He crushed her with his condemnation, and the hopeful color faded from her cheeks.
Grabbing her wrist, Murray pulled her to her feet and glared at Harry. “Get out of my way, you dandy, I’ve a wedding to plan.”
Harry couldn’t stand to see the cheerful, bold girl reduced to a dutiful cipher. He stepped in front of her, trapping her between him and the chair, and stared into her eyes with all the anguish of a wounded lover. “What about
me? Yesterday was wonderful, and now you go to be wed without a farewell?”
Murray bristled with suspicion. “Yesterday?”
“She taught me more about kissing than I’ve learned in all my thirty years.” In a way, it was true. Harry had never enjoyed such a mixture of writhing passion and sheer exuberance.
Murray tossed her wrist back at her. “You kissed this man?”
“Well, yes, but that’s all.” For the second time in two days, she tossed her reputation to the wind. “I scarcely let him do any of the other things he wished to.”
“Huh.” Harry imbued that one syllable with a healthy dose of skepticism.
“I didn’t,” she insisted, knowing well her denial was an admission to the suspicious Murray.
Murray’s voice grew guttural with rage. “Your father gave me to believe you a creature of virtue.”
“I am.”
Harry examined his nails as if he were possessed of the truth.
Murray’s mouth worked as he looked from one to the other. “I’ve spent four pounds five to come on this wild goose chase, and for what? To find the female is unchaste? A spendthrift? I think not! I shall speak to your father about this, miss.”
“But I am chaste!” she said.
“He’ll reimburse me for the full amount of my expenditures.” Murray started to storm away, then wheeled and returned. Picking up his half-full plate, he stomped out of the dining hall.
Jessie sank into her chair, her hands limp in her lap. “Thank you.” Heartfelt gratitude quivered in her voice. “Thank you so much.”
Pulling up a chair, Harry sat directly in front of her, shielding her from any onlookers. “Dreadful man. You know, his first wife died of eating poisoned mushrooms. And his second wife died of a fall.”
Jessie stared at him, half believing. “Really? You know this?”
“She wouldn’t eat her poisoned mushrooms.”
He saw the moment she comprehended the jest. Her eyes lit up. She gave a crack of laughter. Covering her mouth, she chuckled, tears brimming in her eyes. As suddenly as the laughter had come, the tears turned to sorrow, and she put her elbow on the table, cradled her forehead in her hand, and cried, hard.
Dismayed at this display of genuine grief from such a sunny girl, he passed her his handkerchief and waited out the storm.
As quickly as she could, she choked back the weeping. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, especially after you’ve been so kind.”
“It’s not easy being the object of so many suitors’ attentions, especially men such as those.”