Page 57 of Hearts of Briarwall

“Not horribly wrong,” he said softly.

“No?” she asked.

“No.”

“Utterly wrong?”

He smiled.

“Painfullywrong?”

He paused, frowning. “I’m horribly and utterly sorry I caused you any pain.”

She thought to argue, but instead let him continue.

“I’ll have more care of my words from now on. You deserve no less.”

The verity of his statement seeped through her like hot tea. “Thank you, Spencer.”

His smile returned and brought out hers. The air between them warmed as the burning logs in the fireplace hissed and popped, and the desire to be closer nearly made Lydia take that step to him. He would take both her hands and bring them to his chest, and then he would tell her he would take her money and make her a part of the future of motorcars.

But instead, she stayed rooted where she stood.

Spencer blinked rapidly with a shake of his head. “It’s getting quite warm in here,” he said, more to himself than her.

“You’re still wearing your duster.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

He stepped away, removing his coat and setting it and his hat on a nearby chair.

“Where did you go?” she asked. “In the car, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I headed east, following the River Tillingbourne. I turned down a narrow road canopied in trees, but after a time I stopped and had words with some cows who would not be moved. So I turned around and gradually made my way back here.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“I suppose it was.”

“Next time will you take me with you?” she asked.

He blinked in surprise. He glanced to Andrew, who held Violet’s knight in his hand as he frowned at the chessboard.

She lowered her voice. “Will you take me with you and teach me how to drive?”

He turned toward the window, running a hand through his mussed hair. He settled both hands on his hips.

She drew beside him and casually picked up a book from a nearby table. “I won’t tell Andrew,” she said, thumbing absently through the pages.

“That doesn’t help me feel better about it.”

“I’m a quick study. I’ve been driving in my head for practically a year now. Florrie’s driver answers all my questions. Surely you can see the practicality of it. Someday I hope to have my own car. And really, you must agree that any investors in your shops should be familiar with the workings of a motorcar. At theleast,how to drive one.”

“It will pain you to know I’m not that stringent in the qualifications of my investors, other than that they have money to invest and have come by it legally.”

“That does pain me, seeing as you recently turnedmedown as an investor.”

He ducked. “I didnotturn you down.”

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