Page 19 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“Are you attempting to avoid your inevitable humiliation when you can’t guess my ideal future?” she asked.
“You are very confident that I can’t sort it out.” Heavens, that voice of his. Maybe itwasthe reason she was lightheaded. “I accept the challenge, Eve O’Doyle, but only if you agree that when I guess correctly, you’ll tell me.”
“When? That is awfully confident for someone who isn’t even certain whether I am soon to lose a finger. Don’t you pay attention?”
“Whatever your dreamed-of future is, I would wager it involves teasing people.” It was growing too dim in the carriage to see if his eyes were subtly dancing, but she could see what appeared to be an upward tip to one corner of his mouth. For the length of a heartbeat, she couldn’t look away. There she went, being ridiculous again.
She shook that off and retook the topic. “IfIsort out what it isyouintend to do with your life, will you tell me?”
“Even my own family is unlikely to guess that.”
“I do enjoy a challenge,” she said.
“How do you feel about an impossibility?” he asked dryly.
That was intriguing. “You think the puzzle will be that difficult for me to solve?”
“I believe the word I used wasimpossible, but I will thoroughly enjoy watching you make the attempt.”
She felt her cheeks flush at that declaration. Eve never blushed. She didn’t know what exactly had her mind and heart acting so uncharacteristically silly. All she could say for certain was that it was a very good thing they had two days left in this journey, otherwise she might find herself thinking very foolish things.
Chapter Eight
“A coachman,” Duke tossed atEve in the same tongue-in-cheek line of inquiry he’d been using since their conversation in the carriage the evening before. He’d discovered she deeply enjoyed the odd game they were playing, and thus, he’d taken to making absurd guesses about her dream-fulfilling future.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “Though, in fairness, I would be brilliant.”
Don’t stare.She was so mesmerizingly beautiful when she smiled that way that he could likely be forgiven for staring a little. Still, he didn’t particularly want to have to explain something he didn’t fully understand himself, so his wisest course of action was to look away.
Across the carriage, Nia was watching him with obvious curiosity. Grandmother, in a stroke of unexpected luck, was sleeping.
“I cannot for the life of me sort out what it is your repeated questions are meant to be asking,” Nia said. “Thus far, Eve has asked Duke, ‘Farmer?’ ‘Barrel maker?’ ‘Undertaker?’ And Duke has asked Eve, ‘Pugilist?’ ‘Thatcher?’ ‘Anonymous author?’ and now ‘Coachman?’ Then Eve declared she would be brilliant. At being a coachman?”
Eve laughed. The sound would always pull Duke’s gaze to her, knowing her eyes would be sparkling and crinkly, her dimple would be evident, and her smile would be dazzling.
“Ooh, I know.” Eve turned to him once more. Did she have any idea how startlingly beautiful she was? She held up her finger, a small scab on the pad declaring it last night’s victim. “Surgeon?”
“No.”
“You never did say what you cut your finger on,” Nia said.
Eve pointed to the tiny space between the cushion and the wall of the carriage. “Something down there, though I cannot say exactly what.”
“I asked the coachman to attempt to identify the culprit,” Duke said. “But I cannot guarantee he has had time to do so yet.”
She looked at Duke once more. “Shall I tuck my other hand down there and find out?”
“Only if you have a handkerchief handy, as I do not mean to sacrifice another one of mine.”
Her laugh burst forth once more. She immediately clapped her hand over her mouth upon realizing Grandmother had stirred at the sound.
In a whisper, Duke said, “If you wake her, I will tell her it was your fault.”
“You would sell me to the enemy?”
“Without hesitation.”
She didn’t laugh, but she did smile. He liked that nearly as much.
