Jack merely turned to Lucy. “Shall we, Min?” He grinned, repeating Captain Sedgewick’s words, “Wherever your heart desires.Though I suspect that’ll be some fusty old art shop.”
She looked at him for a moment, feeling a strange urge to say no, not only because she was tired and overwhelmed, but purely to see what would happen, in the spirit of one of Miss Sedgewick’s ‘social experiments’. But he was already shrugging back into his driving coat, tugging the heavy capes straight across his shoulders, and Miss Sedgewick was saying something about delaying the little luncheon they’d planned.
“At least you’re already dressed for it,” said Jack, taking Lucy’s elbow and steering her back out of the door, waving poor William towards him. “Wouldn’t do to keep the horses standing while you fussed. Not that you would. You never care what you look like.”
“That’s not quite true, Jack.”
He handed her into the carriage, then looked up at her, smiling. “No? Well. You always look the same to me, Min. So it doesn’t matter anyway.”
He climbed in and sat beside her, his shoulder bumping hers and then his arm grazing her leg as he fished around at his feet and produced a crumpled rug for her knees with the worrying statement that it wasprobablyclean. His closeness unlocked the memory she was sure she’d suppressed—suppressed with iron chains and forcibly drowned in a very deep lake—of Jack in her new studio, in his shirt sleeves with his arms around her,the heat and muscle of him on her bare arms through his thin linen.“There. That’s where you ought to be.”She’d never had more sympathy for ants than then, sympathy for all those fragile things tramped to death by ignorant, oafish feet. They had no idea, all those people, of what they walked all over.
He’d laughed as she’d pulled away, and though her cheeks were already hot, the glancing touch of his breath had been warmer.
Now he set the horses into a smart trot that seemed far too fast for the cobbled street. Lucy clenched her teeth, remembering the terror of past drives. Jack’s thoughts seemed to be on a similar track, for he said happily, “Remember how I used to drive you into the village? Nell put me in mind of it this morning. This is just like old times.”
“Do you mean to overturn me in a hedge, then?”
He laughed. “That was once! And it was a nice, soft, springy hedge.”
“It didn’t feel particularly soft. And neither will these cobbles.”
“Good Lord, Min, don’t fuss. I know what I’m doing. You’re perfectly safe with me.”
She wasn’t. She wasn’t at all.
“Where did you walk?” he asked.
“St James’s.”
“Then we’ll go to Hyde Park now and have a proper run,” he decided, leaving the question ofher heart’s desirebehind them in the curricle’s dust.
They spanked along at a clipping pace, Lucy very glad for the high springs, otherwise she would’ve been shaken to pieces. As it was, only her nerves ended up shaken, her heart near-stopping every time they shot past a slower-moving vehicle with barely a finger’s width to spare. Either Jack was incredibly lucky or he really had learnt to drive.
“So,” he said conversationally, despite the fact he clearly needed to be concentrating on avoiding that laden builder’s wagon, “how are you finding London? Getting to grips with it yet?”
“I… I do enjoy it.” She tried not to close her eyes as they dashed past, the wagon driver glaring. She caught the scent of the sawn wood he was carrying, and then it was already far behind. “It is very interesting. Though…strange, sometimes, to be so frequently in such varied company.” She thought over the last few hours of her day. “I’ll never remember half the names of the people I meet.”
Jack chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. Miss Sedgewick knows them all. She’ll look after you. She is, isn’t she?” He took his attention briefly from the road to scan her face. “Looking after you?”
“Oh yes! She is so kind. I’m sure I’m such a burden, but nothing is ever too much trouble.”
“Good. I’m glad. And her brother… No. Never mind. But I did want to know if you’ve heard from your aunt since you arrived?”
“Yes. I wrote to her when I first reached your sister’s house. And I have had a reply since.”
“And she’s well?”
“As much as she ever is. Mostly she was complaining at my absence and having no one to look after her.” Lucy laughed. “But I got her a little lap dog before I left. My aunt needs to have a creature in the house to grumble about, you see. I thought a small, yappy, decidedly stupid creature would do the trick. I believe I was right. She spent a page and a half complaining about it. So, as you see, she is quite content.”
Jack had listened to this with a growing smile. Now he turned to her with an appreciative glint in his eyes. “This is surprisingly devious of you, Min. I’m impressed.”
“Keep your eyes on the road!”
“There’s acres of room. And we’re barely crawling.” But he slowed his pace, only to yet again study her. A warm and wicked smile crooked his mouth. “Just how yappy is this dog?”
“Incessant. And shrill.”
The warm, wicked smile deepened. “That’s my girl.”
