Page 15 of One Night to Remember
“Who told you I said that?” he asked in surprise. “Bunyan?”
“You did, just now.” Lady Felicity didn’t bother to hide her laughter.
He gave a reluctant grin in reply. She was partly right. No matter how much money her brother tossed in their direction, Giles and Lady Felicity would never be true partners, even for a fortnight.
To his surprise, however, he wondered if they might enjoy themselves a tiny bit after all.
“Does it bother you?” she asked.
He grimaced. “Working with a partner?”
“Working withmeas your partner.” She plucked at her skirts as if mortified by their presence. “A lady mechanic.”
“I don’t care what gender you are,” he replied honestly.
Giles had spent years building a name for himself as London’s premier expert. Being assigned as the pet blacksmith to some lordling’s younger brother would not have stung any less.
To his horror, Lady Felicity blinked away a sudden glassiness in her eyes.
“There’s no crying in carriage houses,” he stammered in alarm. “Isn’t that one of your brother’s rules?”
“Probably.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s just… if you don’t care about my gender, that would make you the first one.”
“If I had to choose a temporary partner,” he informed her, “between you and your brother, I would probably choose… the cat.”
A laugh startled from Lady Felicity and she shoved his shoulder with her own. “Liar.”
“Caught.” He pushed to his feet so he could resume a safe distance. “To be honest, it’s a refreshing surprise to be with a client who actually knows what they’re talking about. And yes, you’re the first lady mechanical artisan I’ve met.”
“Not for long,” she muttered as she rose to her feet.
He raised his brows. Had debutantes exchanged watercolors for wrenches?
“There are more?”
“There’ll be fewer,” she corrected, and gestured about the carriage house. “When I marry, I’ll have to give all this up and be the mistress of a grand household. There won’t be time for tinkering.” She bit her lip. “Not that a married lady would dirty her hands even if she did have the time. I won’t have any. I’ll be too busy.”
“Busy being fancy?” he asked dryly.
She crossed her arms. “Fancy doesn’t meanworse.”
It also didn’t meanbetter. But it was her life and her choice. He wouldn’t be part of it either way.
“Let’s concentrate on the carriage,” he suggested. “There’s no sense worrying about the future.”
“All I think about is the future,” she muttered.
He couldn’t imagine a worse use of her time. “Are you worried about the race?”
“No.” She pushed a stray curl from her forehead. “I know Cole’s carriage will be the fastest. I’m worried about how my life will turn out afterward. Why? Areyouworried about the race?”
“No.” As long as he concentrated on work. “I know I’ll be the fastest driver, but more importantly, the race is two weeks away. Worrying about it doesn’t help anything. It’s better to relax and enjoy whatever is happening right now.”
He wasn’t certain which one of them had stepped closer to the other—or if they had both done so—but he was suddenly very aware that her plump, rosy lips were not nearly far enough away from his.
“Whatishappening right now?” she asked softly.
A colossal distraction when he most needed to stay focused. And professional. And a much safer distance from the Duke of Colehaven’s sister.
