Page 23 of One Night to Remember
Chapter 5
Giles crossed his arms in satisfaction as he watched the bustling activity in his busy smithy.
Thiswas happiness. Work he was good at, a shop he was proud of, and someone to share it with. Plenty of someones. Giles was used to waking every morning content with his life. He never longed for things he didn’t possess. Enjoying what he was fortunate enough to have was more than enough cause for joy.
“I saw you at the races,” one of the boys said shyly.
Giles raised a brow. “Did you?”
“We all did,” said another, eyes shining. “What does it feel like to be faster than everyone else?”
Giles didn’t bother with false modesty. He was paid well for a reason: his patrons expected towin. Being able to race his own carriage once in a while was a delight he would never tire of.
“It’s magical,” he said slowly, as he tried to put the feeling into words. “The air rushes in your ears as though you’ve just leaped from a tall tree into a lake, but you’re not falling. You’reflying. Your cheeks are ruddy and cold, and you must squint in order to see against the sun and the wind, but despite the clatter of wheels and the thunder of hooves, it feels likeyouare the one soaring straight and true, an unstoppable arrow that no one can catch.”
“That’s exactly what it looks like,” breathed one of the lads in awe.
“It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen,” said another.
“Mind your posts,” Giles reminded them. “Breaks are for talking.”
They hurried back to their stations.
Giles leaned his shoulders against a wall. He was not surprised to hear the lads ask about the races. It was a frequent topic here in his workshop, particularly any day following the release of a caricature portraying him flying down a track so fast that only the tips of his competitors’ hats were visible above clouds of dust. His lips quirked.
What would the scandalmongers think to see their reckless, fearless rebel serving biscuits and lemonade to a bunch of neighborhood children?
His name would appear in White’s betting book the next evening, Giles realized wryly, along with high-profile wagers as to how many weeks or months remained before Giles set about fathering children of his own... or whether hehadfathered all these boys.
The jest would be on them.
Giles had no intention of starting a family any time soon. Or taking a wife. It would necessarily take time away from his work, as well as from his time with lads like these who had come to rely on him. Many had little at home and even fewer prospects. The opportunity to learn a trade gave them hope when before they had none.
Besides, he loved his life just as it was. Comfortable and fun, thrilling and industrious. The last thing he needed was a wrench thrown into the mix.
“This is your idea of ‘I work alone?’” came a droll female voice just outside his smithy.
Lady Felicity.
His walking, talking wrench.
He jerked his spine up straight. “These are my helpers. I am their master. Are you here to be my apprentice?”
Her eyes danced as a tiny smirk twitched at the edges of her plump lips.
“I am here as a carriage counselor.” She gestured behind her, where the Duke of Colehaven’s horses were tied to a post. “Is there room in the inn for another curricle?”
Giles crossed his arms. “What makes you think I—”
“Station five is empty,” said one of his apprentices.
“We could also ready station two in a trice,” added another.
“Fine.” Giles made shooing motions to his acolytes. “Station five. Go.”
After this, he was going to have to have a stern conversation with the Duke of Colehaven. If His Grace disliked invited guests dropping by ahead of schedule, how did he think Giles might react to the unexpected delivery of a carriage?
“Tell your brother there’s a storage fee,” he informed Lady Felicity as the curricle was eased into its new home.
