“Arriving home exhausted and exhilarated after taking the fastest curricle in London for a test drive. My brother’s carriage is finally ready.”
Giles stared at her.
He knew his line—anything along the lines ofwhat makes you think your curricle is faster than my curriclewould do—but his brain was still fracturing over the first words in her sentence.
Arriving home.
Home.
Home was here with him.
He swallowed hard, his heart racing too erratically to think properly. Surely that was why he replied, “I’ll get you a hat.”
Her eyes widened.
“A proper hat,” he added, grabbing one from a nail. “You’ll go as one of my apprentices, not as my great-aunt Melba.”
She leaped into the interior with the agility of a fawn.
“Remind me why I bother helping you in and out of hackneys?” he groused as he hoisted himself up into the seat beside her.
“Misplaced chivalry,” she answered, then gestured toward the shaft tip. “I’m not the master of this smithy, but I think we might be missing a horse.”
“I’ve got a horse,” he assured her. “Several, in fact. But I needed to see how the height and weight difference would feel from the driver’s perch.”
“Decide faster,” she begged as she clutched her hands to her chest and wriggled like a puppy. “I’ve been waiting a fortnight for this.”
‘You have not waited a fortnight,” he said with a laugh. “You finished whatever you were just doing a scant moment ago, despite having begun this project a mere—”
Oh.
She didn’t mean Project Curricle. She meant Project Giles-and-Felicity.
They’d met a fortnight ago. Colehaven’s upcoming race was morning after next. This was their last chance for stolen moments of freedom like these. Giles swallowed hard.
“I’ll summon the horses.” He jumped to the floor. “Don’t make any other modifications while I’m gone.”
“Just my disguise,” she promised, and began arranging a woolen scarf about the collar of a lad’s jacket.
In no time at all, they were flying down Rotten Row with the wind in their faces and huge, silly smiles as each of them sent the other aSee? I told you so!glance.
They could not have asked for a better day. The sky was cloudy enough to provide cover from the sun, yet clear enough to keep all threat of rain away. The hour was not late enough for the ton promenade to begin, nor so early as to interfere with other races.
It was as if Rotten Row was their own private Eden, a racing track made for no one else but Giles and Felicity.
…and a few assorted riders and pedestrians whose faces passed in such a blur as to be completely unrecognizable.
“Let me drive,” she panted when they reached the other end.
He tightened his hold on the reins. “Not a chance.”
“This is my brother’s carriage. I’ve driven it a thousand times. You’ll let me take it apart and rearrange Baby as I see fit, but you won’t relinquish control of my family’s curricle for a single moment, even on a wide, closed track with no other carriages?”
“Youarea quick study,” he said in awe. “It’s like you can peer inside my mind.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you?” He hoped not.
