Page 18 of One Night to Remember
This was her opportunity to observe him in his natural habitat… and find out if women really did dampen their bodices and swoon at the sight of him.
The boy frowned. “I heard him tell you, ‘No modifications.’”
“He did say that,” Felicity agreed. “I also heard His Grace clearly state that he wanted towin. Our loyalties must lie with him.”
“He won’t just win.” A smug smile spread across the boy’s face. “With you and the Curricle King as a team, the duke willdestroythe competition.”
As flattering as the boy’s confidence was, Felicity and Langford were a team in only the weakest of definitions. She straightened her shoulders. With luck, today’s field research would help her gain an advantage.
“Hyde Park,” said the driver as he pulled the hack to a stop.
Felicity’s pulse quickened as she alighted to a crowded street.
Hyde Park at dawn was the preferred ground for illegal duels or semi-legal races, and an endless stream of foot traffic swarmed toward Rotten Row as if the road were paved with gold sovereigns.
“I’m guessing we go this way,” she told the boy dryly as they melted into the flow of people.
Faster than she would have anticipated, they reached the edge of the track, a few dozen yards from where several smart curricles stood at the ready. Felicity moved to the front for a better view.
“This is madness,” she murmured—or would have murmured, if it were possible for anything lower than a shout to be heard over the roar of voices. “It’s as if these people expect the Prince Regent to roll by.”
“Even better, honey,” a girl to her left said with a conspiratorial wink. “You’re about to seeGiles Langford.”
Felicity might have scoffed, had the sound of his name not sent a delicious shiver of anticipation tingling down her spine.
She was far from alone. Excitement was palpable. The brisk chill in the air had been replaced by the warmth of hundreds of bustling bodies, rubbing shoulders as they crowded to line the dirt-packed road. Even though she was disguised, Felicity was grateful she didn’t glimpse any rich gentlemen she knew.
“Have you seen Langford race before?” she asked the maid.
“Every time I can,” the maid replied without hesitation.
Several others nodded at this response, men and women alike.
“There he is!” squealed the maid.
Felicity jerked her gaze away from her fellow spectators and back toward the row of smart curricles, where groomsmen were handing off the reins to dashing, well-dressed drivers. How she wished she could race alongside them!
Langford’s curricle was near the rear of the queue. All the drivers exchanged pleasantries with spectators as they inched toward the starting line. In moments, Giles Langford would pass directly in front of Felicity.
“That’s his baby,” murmured a man to her right.
Felicity leaned forward eagerly. “The legendary ‘Baby?’”
“The custom curricle he built by hand,” another said in awe. “Won’t let anyone but himself sit in the driver’s seat.”
Looking at this crowd, Felicity realized Langford did notneedto race lordlings’ carriages to be welcomed among them. In this arena, Langford was king and everyone else his mere subject.
“Too bad the race is only half an hour,” said a woman.
“Some come for the races,” another explained. “The rest of us could gaze at Langford all day.”
Of that, Felicity had no doubt. She forced herself to focus her attention on the chaise, rather than the equally breathtaking man at the reins. Until today, she’d only seen “Baby” in penny caricatures. What was it about this particular design that gave him greater advantage? How could she incorporate similar elements into Cole’s curricle in time for that race?
“Here they come!” another woman whispered, fanning her throat.
The crush of bodies pushed dangerously forward as the curricles rolled toward the starting line.
“How’s Baby feeling today?” a man called out.
