Page 55 of Fair Weather Enemies
He grinned. “Yes, I was jesting earlier.”
“Let’s have it, then. The truth.”
He sighed and stared ahead. “Ah, the truth. How it inconveniences me at the worst of times.”
“You are evading my question.”
“Right.” He gazed upward. “She must be strong but sympathetic. She must be able to engage in witty conversation at a moment’s notice. She must be curious, and well-read, and determined. Oh, and I do not at all mind a woman who wears well a blue riding habit.”
She reached instinctively to pull her blue riding habit closed, only to find it already latched. His description of her strengths as objects of his admiration seemed a thinly veiled compliment. She glanced up at him, suddenly unnerved.
“Is Miss Rutley all those things?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Some. Not all.”
“What does she lack, if I may ask?”
He peered at her briefly, intensely, before returning his attention to the path. “I find her too compliant. Too unwilling to express an opinion. In short, she lacks backbone.”
Jane laughed nervously. “Is that not the dream of all men for a wife? One who serves without complaint, supports without contradiction, and makes her husband’s opinions her own?”
Adam shook his head gravely. “Not this man. I like the fire, the challenge, the contest. If the one who knows me best cannot tell me when I am wrong, then I am destined for a life of one foolish mistake after another.”
His continuing description of what she could offer a husband drove her into mild panic. The urge to change the subject consumed her.
“Mistakes?” Her voice trembled. “Such as the time you poured honey into my hair while I dozed in the park?”
To her relief, he laughed heartily. “Yes. A fine example. However, in my defense, I poured honey into your hair because of what you did to me on the day of my confirmation.”
Now that the unspoken rules of their game had been established, she did not wish to deviate. Pushing aside the disquiet, she lifted her chin to engage. “Oh? Your confirmation, you say? I have not the foggiest notion of the incident to which you refer.”
He smiled warmly, clearly seeing through her charade. “Very well. Allow me to remind you.”
“I listen eagerly, sir.”
He shot her a mock glare. “I was twelve at the time. You would have been about nine years old.”
“Your mathematic skills continue to impress.”
“They are impressive, I know.” He stopped to tug Beelzebub, who’d decided to partake of a brief respite. “Anyway, day of my confirmation and all that. There I was, near the altar of St. Bartholomew’s Church, dressed in my finest before the priest. My family, friends, and various well-wishers and community members looked on proudly. Of course, had I known one of that latter group was you, and that you had slipped deep into enemy territory to stand directly behind me, I might have been more prepared for what happened.”
Jane cocked her head and smiled. “Something happened. I seem not to recall. Do tell.”
“Yes,” he said dryly. “Something happened. The priest droned on for a bit before laying his hands upon me to pray. He prayed loudly, dramatically, and portentously about how the Holy Ghost would descend upon me and fill me and otherwise subsume me. At that very moment, I experienced a sensation behind my right ear that I mistook for the Holy Ghost physically attempting to enter my body. In my surprise, I jumped into the priest and knocked him backward.”
Jane swallowed a laugh. “No!”
“Yes, as you well know. And to further my shame, I did not jump into him silently. Rather, I let loose perhaps the most auspicious curse ever uttered in the assembly hall of St. Bartholomew’s church. I believe my mother well and truly fainted.”
Jane failed to restrain her laughter. After recovering her decorum, she wiped a tear. “Indeed, your mother did faint, and came to rest atop me.”
“Serves you right. For it was you and your blasted feather that I mistook for an indwelling of the Holy Ghost.”
She laughed again, recalling the resulting pandemonium and her successful attempt to slip from beneath Mrs. Ashford to escape mostly without notice. However, as she suspected, Adam had witnessed her flight. He eyed her balefully.
“Laugh all you like. Did you know the vicar postponed my confirmation for one year and required me to attend weekly tutoring sessions as a result of my ill-timed outburst?”
She gathered her laughter into check. “No, sir. I did not know. You have my sincerest apologies for the pain you suffered as a result of my misdeed.”
