“Does it have to be you?” she asked sourly. “Not,” she added before he could get in a snitagain, “because of your stupid leg. It’s because of your stupid personality that I would prefer another to offer his aid.”
To her surprise, this made him grin.
“Mypersonality?” he asked, smirking down at her in a way that made her heart race … but not with the fear she’d felt momentsbefore. “You are the one who goes around breaking things and then being pert about it, princess.”
“Donotcall me that!” she snapped.
He tapped his chin, like he was considering. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” he said. “You made assumptions about me. Doesn’t it stand that I ought to be able to make assumptions about you?”
Clio huffed. “If you are offended that I thought you were a worker at the shop, maybe you are the one who has negative views about workers. I find toymaking to be an admirable profession. Who wouldn’t celebrate the folk who seek to please children with their trade?”
“How admirable,” he said dryly. “A revolutionaryanda princess. Now, hush in there. I’m trying to work … unless you think you want to climb through this broken window, that is?”
It was very, very irritating to be at his mercy.
“No,” she said, crossing her arms. “Do what you must.”
His smirk grew more pronounced. “Sayplease.”
Clio shrieked again, this time in irritation.
Her dubious savior disappeared from view briefly, the ghost of his laugh echoing in his wake, and in the few moments that hewas gone, Clio felt her fear begin to creep back in at the edges of her vision.
“Hurry, please!” she called.
There was no response, or at least, not one directed at her; instead, she heard him barking orders, asking one of the nearby tradesmen to bring him some tools. There was some banging, and, at one point, the carriage lurched sickeningly.
Clio pressed her hands to her middle, like she needed to hold herself in one piece. Even so, a whimper found its way loose from her lips.
“Can you hurry?” she said, the words a thin whine.
Briefly, the gentleman’s head appeared in the window gap again. This time, however, he wore a forbidding frown.
Clio found that despite this, seeing him still felt calming.
“I am sorry, princess,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure that you are so spoiled that you always get what you want the moment you ask for it, but real people have real concerns, and sometimes, that means that you do not come first. Your inconvenience doesn’t rank.”
“I am a real person, too!” she sputtered. Arguing with him was so much less upsetting than sitting here alone. “My name is Clio. Clio Warson.”
The smirk flickered back into place, though she had a suspicion that this was against his better judgment.
“Are you telling me that just so that I won’t call you princess any longer, Miss Warson?”
Technically, it wasLady Clio, but she didn’t feel that pointing it out would help him dispel this idea of her as a prissy, pampered … well,princess.
“I am merely introducing myself to be polite,” she said. “It’s a thing that people do. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, Lord …?”
“The name’s Hector Ferrars,” he said gruffly. “Now, could you hold on to your britches for a second so I can get ye out of there?”
In the time it took her to mouth the wordbritchesto herself in surprise, he disappeared again, and her terror came back.
“Lord Ferrars?” she called. “Mr. Ferrars? Listen, I don’t know your title, but can you please come back?”
His face appeared for a third time. “For goodness’ sake, Miss Warson, show some patience! I assume you are unused to not getting what you want the moment you ask for it, but I cannot make a broken hinge disappear in the flash of an eye.”
Clio’s desperation to keep him around loosened her tongue.
“There’s plenty I haven’t been able to get the way I wanted!” she blurted. “I’m here, aren’t I? Not here in this carriage—although, yes, also here in this carriage—but in England. I was perfectly happy in Belgium, but my brother insisted, and now here I am. And he wants me to marry. But can I summon a suitable man who will satisfy my brotherandme? No, I cannot! So, I am stuck?—”
