Simon gestured toward the utility cart he had readied. He was going to enjoy himself.
But for a raising of her finely arched brows, she wasn’t at all daunted by the almost primitive mode of transport he’d chosen for their outing.
“I’ve spent the last ten years living in the country, Mr. Cockfield. Did you imagine I’d demand you take me out in one of Greystone’s carriages?”
Had she managed to make him feel sheepish? Simon brushed his hand over his mouth with a grin. “In the future, I’ll not presume anything about you, Miss Faraday.”
“I thought you were all-knowing.” She climbed onto the bench before he could assist her.
“That’s what most people think.”
She did not edge away from him when he climbed onto the bench beside her. Instead, she turned and met his gaze. “I find it hard to believe that you are not. All-knowing, that is.”
“Believe it,” he said, pulling his cap down to better cover his face as he turned the cart onto the road. He hadn’t bothered going out of his way to hide his identity while out and about in the past, but for this particular escapade, it was best to appear…insignificant.
“I am quite unsure of you.” At the admission, that sensation he’d had the night before swept through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way around any woman and hoped to discover if the feeling was evoked by the situation or by Miss Faraday herself.
“Have I stunned you into silence?” He slid her a quick glance.
“I’m afraid I am quite unsure of myself as well.” Her proper tones lent a titillating undercurrent to her words. Simon shifted uncomfortably on the bench and then directed the single horse pulling them to walk in the opposite direction of the park.
“Perhaps I can help with that,” he said.
“In sorting myself out?” She laughed.
He would not attempt to rush her into an affair with him. She was one of his best friend’s cousins, blast it all, and a very respectable lady.
But she was no debutante. She was a woman with a mind of her own. Was she an innocent? She’d been engaged, and he wasn’t foolish enough to imagine she’d not allowed her fiancé certain liberties.
She was not seeking to land a husband. If she’d given any indication of that, an affair would be out of the question.
If she had been a widow, an affair would be a given.
Miss Faraday, however, was something quite in-between.
“Where are we going today?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll allow you three guesses.” Where did she think a butler would take a lady who’d caught his fancy?
“Not the park.”
“Was that one of your guesses?” Simon enjoyed teasing her. He enjoyed flirting with her.
“No.” One of the wheels dipped into a rut, jolting them and causing her to grasp the bench with one hand and his leg with the other.
Simon landed his weaker hand over hers before she could clasp it primly in her lap again.
“Are we going to visit a museum?”
“You have two guesses left.”
“Ah, drat. I was hoping to tour the special exhibit featuring a few of Goya’s latest works,” she teased him back.
“The Bordeaux or his black period?” he asked.
She stared at him in surprise.
“Do you not think I appreciate art?” Miss Faraday considered his education to have been limited to service. He wasn’t sure if the assumption pleased or annoyed him.
