he frowned.
“You were certainly welcome inside,” he said, before stepping up on the coach step, still looking vaguely baffled. It was a pitiful excuse, Jac acknowledged.
“To Smyrna, Your Grace, sir?” Harold asked and Jac nodded, pulling her legs out of the way as Aspen clambered into the carriage and sat down opposite her. It wasn’t until Aspen had settled that she realized what she’d done. She was supposed to be a man, she berated herself, and yet she’d forced the Duke of Aspen to sit facing backwards. Sitting forward was a woman’s right and she’d never done anything different, but amongst men it was polite to give a guest the favored spot. Daniel had grumbled about the idiotic political maneuvering of coach seating many times before.
“Oh! Do forgive me, please, take my seat,” Jac insisted, shifting over and moving to swap places with him.
“Stay, stay,” the duke replied, snorting and waving a hand at her lazily. Jac was certain he was going to accept the odd arrangement until he pushed himself out of his seat and settled in beside her.
Jac opened her mouth to protest, but did not know what to say. The coach was designed for two people to sit alongside each other. It was not so unusual for two passengers to decide to face forward. What protest could she make? Yet the duke’s thigh was pressed up against her own. Aspen stretched his legs out under the opposite seat, settling in again. Jac shifted slightly, not sure if she wanted the duke’s leg to press against hers less or more. He was warm, she realized belatedly, only to blush like a child still in schooling.
“Thank you. I get coach sick facing opposite,” he admitted. Jac stared at him. She did not know of any man who was afflicted by such a thing. Then, of course, it would be rude for a man to mention it to her. The carriage jerked forward.
“You wanted to learn about the Queen’s Gambit?” she started and Aspen turned.
“The chess opening, yes. What the actual Queen is doing I’d prefer not to know,” he answered. Jac chuckled. The last she’d heard, the king was deaf, blind, and lost to insanity in Windsor Castle.
“Indeed. Unlike in politics, your chess openings we have a prayer at fixing,” she replied, hoping dearly that he would laugh with her, and not stare, wide eyed at her rudeness. She’d heard men exchange much worse insults before.
“Ha!” Aspen barked out good-naturedly and Jac smiled, relaxing into her seat. “Though I’d argue that a queen’s antics are hardly politics, in that we have no rights for changing them,” he answered.
“That is not entirely true. Parliament compelled the Prince of Wales to marry Princess Caroline in return for paying off his debts, if you recall,” Jac replied. Aspen tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point.
“And we can both rejoice in how well that worked out,” he replied.
“Do you have any latest news as to her antics?” Jac asked, letting the chess conversation fall away for a different time, and Aspen leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with delight at the political gossip.
The coffee house, as it turned out, was a white building with a bright green sign. Jac climbed out into the cold night, her curiosity growing as she saw Aspen smile and pull open the heavy wooden door.
“You shall enjoy this, I think,” he said, striding inside without pausing for her. Jac had to pull herself back to keep from running into the man, expecting him to let her proceed before him.
There is so much we do automatically, she thought as she followed Aspen into the building. She was not prepared for the noise inside. Gentleman gathered around the long tables, excited and loud as she’d never seen them. They sounded like sailors bent over a game of dice, for all they shouted and spoke over each other. Only the academic subjects at hand and the words ‘Lord’ and ‘sir’ tacked on the end of their sentences differentiated them from such gambling
“You were certainly welcome inside,” he said, before stepping up on the coach step, still looking vaguely baffled. It was a pitiful excuse, Jac acknowledged.
“To Smyrna, Your Grace, sir?” Harold asked and Jac nodded, pulling her legs out of the way as Aspen clambered into the carriage and sat down opposite her. It wasn’t until Aspen had settled that she realized what she’d done. She was supposed to be a man, she berated herself, and yet she’d forced the Duke of Aspen to sit facing backwards. Sitting forward was a woman’s right and she’d never done anything different, but amongst men it was polite to give a guest the favored spot. Daniel had grumbled about the idiotic political maneuvering of coach seating many times before.
“Oh! Do forgive me, please, take my seat,” Jac insisted, shifting over and moving to swap places with him.
“Stay, stay,” the duke replied, snorting and waving a hand at her lazily. Jac was certain he was going to accept the odd arrangement until he pushed himself out of his seat and settled in beside her.
Jac opened her mouth to protest, but did not know what to say. The coach was designed for two people to sit alongside each other. It was not so unusual for two passengers to decide to face forward. What protest could she make? Yet the duke’s thigh was pressed up against her own. Aspen stretched his legs out under the opposite seat, settling in again. Jac shifted slightly, not sure if she wanted the duke’s leg to press against hers less or more. He was warm, she realized belatedly, only to blush like a child still in schooling.
“Thank you. I get coach sick facing opposite,” he admitted. Jac stared at him. She did not know of any man who was afflicted by such a thing. Then, of course, it would be rude for a man to mention it to her. The carriage jerked forward.
“You wanted to learn about the Queen’s Gambit?” she started and Aspen turned.
“The chess opening, yes. What the actual Queen is doing I’d prefer not to know,” he answered. Jac chuckled. The last she’d heard, the king was deaf, blind, and lost to insanity in Windsor Castle.
“Indeed. Unlike in politics, your chess openings we have a prayer at fixing,” she replied, hoping dearly that he would laugh with her, and not stare, wide eyed at her rudeness. She’d heard men exchange much worse insults before.
“Ha!” Aspen barked out good-naturedly and Jac smiled, relaxing into her seat. “Though I’d argue that a queen’s antics are hardly politics, in that we have no rights for changing them,” he answered.
“That is not entirely true. Parliament compelled the Prince of Wales to marry Princess Caroline in return for paying off his debts, if you recall,” Jac replied. Aspen tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point.
“And we can both rejoice in how well that worked out,” he replied.
“Do you have any latest news as to her antics?” Jac asked, letting the chess conversation fall away for a different time, and Aspen leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with delight at the political gossip.
The coffee house, as it turned out, was a white building with a bright green sign. Jac climbed out into the cold night, her curiosity growing as she saw Aspen smile and pull open the heavy wooden door.
“You shall enjoy this, I think,” he said, striding inside without pausing for her. Jac had to pull herself back to keep from running into the man, expecting him to let her proceed before him.
There is so much we do automatically, she thought as she followed Aspen into the building. She was not prepared for the noise inside. Gentleman gathered around the long tables, excited and loud as she’d never seen them. They sounded like sailors bent over a game of dice, for all they shouted and spoke over each other. Only the academic subjects at hand and the words ‘Lord’ and ‘sir’ tacked on the end of their sentences differentiated them from such gambling
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