Even if the butterflies in her stomach begged to differ.
She followed him down a stairwell leading to a pretty, private residence facing the opposite street. It was clean, orderly, homey, just like his shop.
Unlike his shop, neither customers nor young apprentices were likely to wander in off the streets.
Here… anything could happen.
“I like your rooms,” she said shyly.
“Do you?” he asked with obvious surprise. “I feel like it’s missing some frescoes and gilt, and humble marble flooring.”
“It’s missing lemon tarts,” she reminded him. “You can’t eat marble flooring.”
“I’ve never tried,” he told her with wide eyes. “Does Almack’s serve that with a little salt, or a dollop of French sauces?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be cooking?” she grumped. “Mix some gold dust in my tea.”
“Iknewthere was something I meant to pick up at market.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then led her to a sunny parlor with a large window and cozy chairs. When she was settled, he rang a bell pull.
A fresh-faced maid immediately appeared. “Yes, sir?”
Felicity blinked. She shouldn’t be surprised Giles had a maid. Who else would be fixing his meals and pressing fresh trousers for lady colleagues? He was far too busy to deal with such minutia himself. His time was better spent in carriage houses and on racing tracks.
Besides, Cole’s list of approved suitors exclusively named men richer than Croesus, and they were all Giles’s clients. If what her brother was paying him was anything to go on, Giles could afford a far more extensive staff than half the fortune-hunters at Almack’s.
No wonder his home was far more elegant than she’d imagined.
“Just realizing untitled men can live comfortably, too?” he asked dryly.
Her cheeks heated.
“In my defense,” she explained, “I’ve never known any who did. First I was incredibly poor and had nothing, and then I was incredibly rich and had everything. I never had a chance to experience havingsomeof the things.”
“I don’t have ‘some’ of the things,” Giles said as he settled into a comfortable sofa to her left. “I have all the things I care about. The things I appreciate most cannot be purchased.”
A man who already had everything had no need for anything—or anyone—else.
There was no room for her. Not in his house, not in his smithy, not in his life. She should be glad. It should make walking away all the easier. And yet the thought of doing so ripped a hole in her chest.
She bit her lip. “Is there nothing else you want?”
Rather than answer, he looked away. The maid was just arriving with a tray laden with tea service and sandwiches.
“Allow me to pour this time,” Felicity said.
Giles held out a palm in acquiescence.
“Pour fast,” he warned, “else I might eat all the sandwiches while you dally.”
“A lady never dailies when it comes to tea,” she assured him.
Indeed, they didn’t speak another word until every crumb was gone.
“You’re not the only one who started with little and ended with a lot,” he said as he collapsed back against his chair with a sated sigh.
Her heart thumped. The stiff-necked denizens of the ton would consider anything less than a palace to be an unfortunate hovel, but Felicity intimately understood how Giles felt. She just hadn’t realized they shared that, too.
“You haven’t always lived here?” she asked in surprise.
