Nathaniel smiled down at her and chuckled. “I’ve had plenty of practice having my toes stepped on by my younger sisters.”
He led her into the steps and turns of the waltz. Caris would’ve kept her attention on her feet if Nathaniel hadn’t drawn her into conversation.
“Do you own a racing carriage?” Nathaniel asked as they spun about the ballroom amidst other dancers.
“We own several. I race my own.”
“Is that what you do for fun in Cosian?”
“It’s far more enjoyable than this.”
Nathaniel laughed, the amusement in his eyes kind as he spun her in a circle by one hand on the beat of the music. “I find I would probably agree with you if I’d ever had the pleasure of racing one.”
“Amari has races.”
“I’ve been to the spring races here as a spectator, not a driver. I’m afraid my skills in that area would be nonexistent.”
Because he didn’t assume racing was easy and something anyone could do made Caris reluctantly approve of his attitude. Racing at the speeds the altered motor carriages ran at wasn’t for the faint of heart. She’d been racing since she was fourteen after spending a year begging her parents for permission and enjoyed it immensely.
“How do you know the duchess?” Caris asked.
“Our families do business together. I’ve only heard good things about yours.”
“My family or our business?”
“Both.”
Caris raised an eyebrow, staring up at him. “If you come calling, my father will want to talk business with you.”
“Only if you’re there as well.”
That he didn’t immediately assume she wouldn’t take over from her father rather than sell the company, as so many other people did, made Caris carefully consider her opinion of him. “Did you enjoy your time at the Aether School of Engineering?”
“Immensely.”
Nathaniel talked at length about the classes he’d taken and the wealth of knowledge that awaited her so long as her parents let her attend. Caris hungered for what he spoke about—the limitless desire to learn, to invent, that gave rise to the new inventions seeping into everyday life.
By the time Nathaniel led her off the dance floor, Caris was pestering him about the expected course load for a first-year student. Her father seemed fondly amused at their choice of conversation upon their return to the little group that had somehow become the epicenter of the ball. Her mother appeared resignedly exasperated.
“I had hoped you would at least remember your conversation classes and what topics were fit for tonight,” Portia said on a quiet aside.
Caris lifted one shoulder in a shrug, smoothing down the skirt of her gown. “Did you know the graduating engineers have a tradition of tossing an automaton off the clock tower at the end of their last term? I want to do that.”
“That sounds strangely exhilarating. Your father was just telling us about your patent exploits,” Meleri said. “I must say I’m impressed.”
Caris shifted her attention to the older woman. “Gears make sense.”
She was keen enough not to mention that sometimes people didn’t. Caris was terrible at making small talk if it wasn’t about business. She spent hours in the laboratories outside her schooling and preferred an engineer’s coveralls to a dress or suit. She preferred racing carriages on the dirt track to dancing, liked the freedom she could find there from the restrictive manners high society exacted on creativity.
Caris liked inventing things that helped people, as her father did. She wanted to make a difference in people’s lives. Figuring out what made the world tick began with the machines that ran it.
“I’ve invited you and your mother over for tea tomorrow. I hope to chat more with you about the future of your education.”
Caris glanced quickly at her mother, unable to read the expression on her face. She didn’t appear angry or worried, but even Caris knew being invited to tea by the duchess was an honor rarely bestowed on anyone newly presented. When all was said and done, in the absence of the Rourke bloodline, the Auclairs were the oldest, unbroken bloodline left in Ashion. Gaining their favor would’ve been like gaining the favor the old queen.
She knewthat, at least, from her lessons.
“I look forward to tomorrow,” Caris said, dipping into a quick little curtsy after a raised eyebrow from her mother. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
