Page 30 of One Night to Remember
“You’ve never been plain a day in your life.” His blue eyes held hers before he turned back toward the curricle. “What do you think about widening the wheels to be sturdier over rugged terrain?”
Felicity was not thinking about wheels at all. Had Giles Langford just implied he found her pretty?
“No comment?” He poked his head over the tail-board in surprise. “Somehow I assumed Lord Felix would be even more opinionated than Lady Felicity.”
“No need for ‘lord’ or ‘lady.’ Partners should be on a first-name basis.” She tilted her head at the carriage. “Wide wheels are heavy wheels. What do you think about narrower and lighter?”
And with that, they were off and running, any awkwardness forgotten. They perused every inch of the curricle, arguing and agreeing, guessing and teasing.
It wasn’t until they were shoulder-to-shoulder beneath the chaise that Felicity realized how much easier it was to pass the time with Giles than to decipher ballroom mating dances.
Here with Giles, she was truly herself. Not just a woman in trousers, but a fellow coach smith in her own right. It was a heady, heart-pounding feeling.
Giles didn’t speak to her as though he did so as a favor to her brother, or even in the same manner the lords she danced with spoke to debutantes. He treated her like she was his equal. As though there was nowhere this skilled, handsome man wished to be but right here at her side.
Felicity didn’t notice she was staring until she realized he was gazing right back at her. Breath tangled in her lungs, but she couldn’t look away. No matter how warm her cheeks had flushed.
She bit her lip to keep from blurting how she felt.
He tilted his head. “Colehaven says the only reason he entrusted his carriage to me instead of you is because I have a proper smithy and you don’t.”
She grinned. Not having a proper forge was the only valid excuse for one’s brother to choose some other blacksmith over his own sister.
“Now you know what to get me for Christmas.”
He affected an arrogant expression. “You’ll never find a better smithy than mine.”
True.
Neither said what they were both thinking. That this—whateverthiswas—would be over within a fortnight. There would be no Christmas. They could have nothing at all.
Except the continued pleasure of each other’s company for the next eight days.
“I like your smithy,” she said shyly.And I like you.
He glanced over at her in flattered surprise. “Do you?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
With a lift of his shoulder, he flashed a crooked smile. “It’s a smithy.”
“A splendid one.” She cast her gaze about the palatial interior. “Clean, orderly, well-stocked, impressive…”
Being in his smithy was like visiting a toy shop. Every shelf and hook were full of new wonders, just waiting for her to explore. The workshop had an earthy, distinctive scent, a comfortable, inviting atmosphere, a feeling like… home.
Her chest thumped in alarm. This was not her cozy shop. She couldn’t keep itorGiles. Her pulse fluttered at the idea. Appalled at the direction of her thoughts, she floundered for a way to ruin the moment.
“I’m sorry you disapprove of my husband-selecting process.”
The jarring words shattered the companionable calm like a sledgehammer to ice. She could practically feel the cold shards raining down upon them.
“Most lords in town are my customers or friends from the Wicked Duke,” Giles replied evenly. “I just hadn’t expected to come across their names on a shopping list.”
Felicity’s face flushed with heat. There. She’d deserved that dig. Nor could she argue. Cole had created the initial list of approved prospects. Felicity had refined it. To Giles, she supposed “practical reasons” only made her seem more mercenary.
“I didn’t know they were friends of yours,” she muttered.
“Of course you didn’t.” A muscle worked at his temple. “A blacksmith, friends with Quality? Horrors.” His lip curled and he looked away. “I despise when someone like you makes assumptions about everyone else.”
