Page 27 of One Night to Remember
No. Giles curled his lip. She meant the marquess would marry her if she couldbecomewhat he wanted. That was what was so disappointing. Lady Felicity had seemed like so muchmore.
Or perhaps he, too, wanted her to be something she was not.
“I cannot abide stuffy, pretentious people,” Giles said.
“How awkward. I aspire to be a stuffy, pretentious lady,” she informed him, “married to a stuffy, pretentious lord with a stuffy, pretentious estate. What do you care?”
“It makes you sound selfish,” he muttered.
“And I am,” she agreed. “We all are, to some degree. Not that it’s any of your business what I do with my future husband’s money, but I intend to fund a charity.”
Giles paused with one hand on the splinter bar. “A what?”
“A charitable foundation to aid children in need. Food, housing, education. I hope to make it a large affair, with so many helpers we’ll never have to turn away a single child.”
It sounded… admirable. Some of his disdain fell away.
“Will your future husband allow you to volunteer in such a place?”
“The marquess would allow me to donate funds,” she hedged.
Not quite the same thing, but even Giles could see why Raymore was the one man who made her list. His wealth, his power, his position…
“He’s passionate about charitable works,” Lady Felicity added. “He even leads a committee.”
Huzzah for Lord Raymore.
“You could volunteerhere,” Giles heard himself say. “If you wanted to do more. There are always more neighborhood lads than my journeymen and I have time to mentor.”
“Ifyouwanted to do more,” she replied archly, “you could welcome a few lasses. Lads aren’t the only creatures capable of tightening a wheel nut. Or is your charity only open to boys?”
“It’s not a charity,” he protested. “It’s a smithy.”
A smithy in which the only artisan who had ever come close to being his father’s equal had walked in the door wearing a frilly bonnet and day gown.
“A smithy for men,” she said with a shrug. “I thought you, perhaps, would not be so prejudiced.”
Giles snapped his jaw closed. He hadn’t welcomed a passel of local lads out of an explicit intent to exclude girls. Opening the smithy to their female counterparts hadn’t crossed his mind at all.
Somehow, that almost made it worse.
“I don’t just want to keep Cole’s curricle in working condition,” Lady Felicity continued, as if their discussion of eligible gentlemen and proper apprentices had never happened. “I want to improve it. The custom modifications would be based on my years of experience handling Cole’s horses and your unique characteristics as the driver.”
“You’re asking for unconditional faith that everything will work out perfectly within the allotted time,” he said flatly. “You want me to put the race in your hands.”
“I want to take every advantage we have and maximize them.” She licked her delectable lips. “I want towin. What doyouwant?”
To kiss you, came a little whisper from somewhere deep inside.To show you that pots of gold and blue-blood titles aren’t the only characteristics you should look for in a man.
“Fine,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “F-fine?”
“Call me arrogant and overbearing if you like, but I’m the best at what I do.” He crossed his arms to keep from doing something foolish, like reaching for her. “So are you.”
Her mouth fell open. “So am I?”
“Your brother says so. And this is his wager.” Giles let out a slow breath. “You’re just as motivated as I am for me to end the race in one piece and for Colehaven to win. Come back tomorrow at three. I’ll clear the rest of my afternoon.”
“Three o’clock it is,” she said quickly, pulling off her leather apron with shaking fingers. She glanced over at him from beneath her lashes. “Tea time. I don’t suppose we can heat a pot in the forge?”
“It’s always best not to suppose,” Giles agreed.
He placed her bonnet atop her head and tied the ribbon. The infernal floppy brim would keep his mouth well away from hers.
For now.
