“You did the right thing,” Aaron said. He studied the wheel but knew nothing about the maintenance of a carriage wheel. Yet he was a knight and therefore had to act as if he did. Having the women believe he was less of a man would be unbearable. “It appears this wheel is slightly bigger than the others. Perhaps that is the cause of our problem. I’ll have to have it replaced.”
Miss Dunston alighted from the carriage, careful to step on stones so her shoes did not get mud on them. Although she was smiling, Miss Lockhart was not.
“The wheel is not a different size,” Miss Lockhart said, “but rather the axletree has not been oiled properly. And it appears one of the lugs is missing.” She straightened up and dusted her hands. “I’ll return to Chatsworth and bring back Duncan. He’ll know what to do.”
Duncan Prudy was the village blacksmith. No one called him Mr. Prudy, for that had been how his father was addressed, and Duncan never got on with his father. Once Mr. Prudy was gone, no one thought twice about calling Duncan other than by his Christian name.
Or so Aaron had been told by one of the street vendors the week before.
Aaron cleared his throat. “As I said, the axletree. Claremont, escort Miss Lockhart since this is our fault.”
Claremont gave Aaron an indignant look. “My fault? But sir…” Aaron glared, and the driver added, “Yes well, my apologies, sir. Come, Miss Lockhart. I’ll see you get there safely.”
When the pair was gone, Aaron returned his attention to Miss Dunston, who stood shaking her head. “What now? Will you complain about my misfortune?”
“Not at all,” she replied with a sniff. “I’m surprised you’re able to go through the door of your carriage given how big your head gets.”
Aaron could not believe what he was hearing. “Are you saying I’m prideful?”
“Of course. Once again, you’ve been bested by a woman, and as always, you’re incapable of dealing with it.”
“Bested?” he asked with a laugh. “By Miss Lockhart? She gave nothing more than a speculative guess.”
“Speculative guess says you. Yet we both know she outwitted you in an area restricted to men.”
The rustling of leaves made them both spin around as a red fox burst from the underbrush to the left and ran past them to disappear into the forest on the other side of the road. Whether they had startled him, or he simply had somewhere else to go, Aaron was uncertain. But he enjoyed watching the lithe movements of the creature.
“Your sister, Lady Mathison,” Miss Dunston said. “You mentioned that she hopes her husband succumbs to illness because he’s a cruel man.”
“Yes? What of it?”
“Do you think Lord Mathison is the only man who treats his wife in such a terrible way? I would venture to say that many ladies live a similar life.”
Aaron frowned. “I don’t understand your point.”
“My point is simple, Sir Aaron,” Miss Dunston said. “Not everything is a competition of wit or strength. Yet women are reminded every time they fail, much like your sister has endured. Surely, there are times when we deserve at least a crumb of recognition. Like Miss Lockhart understanding the problem with the carriage wheel.”
Aaron searched for a proper argument but found none. An image of Horatia came to mind. She had once confided a secret to him.
“I reminded Reuben that I could help him. After all, Uncle George taught me about the stake he owned in that copper mine. But he laughed and left me standing alone, feeling ashamed. I know I’m no expert, but I learned a great deal that summer.”
Hearing that his sister was being treated so callously had angered Aaron. To him, such men were lower than dogs. Yet had he not viewed women in much the same way? And what was worse, he had mocked Miss Dunston’s attempts at learning how to conduct business or scolding her for interfering in what should have been left to men.
“You’re right, Miss Dunston,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I must admit, you’ve shown me that my judgment of women is somewhat… skewed.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Somewhat?”
“Well, perhaps a shred more than somewhat,” he replied with a small chuckle. “But not by much. But no, you were correct. Women should be recognized for their accomplishments, especially those who go beyond the playing of an instrument or how well she can handle a needle.” He grinned. “But only by small amounts. We wouldn’t want their heads to become so large that they’re unable to get in and out of carriages.”
Miss Dunston laughed. “Perhaps I could learn how to restrain my pride.”
At that moment, Aaron realized he wanted nothing more in life than to hear this woman laugh. To listen to her speak. Her very being made him feel… worthy for the first time in his life.
And he enjoyed their banter. “I could teach you how to restrain your pride… as much as you could teach a roomful of women how not to flirt.”
With a gasp of mock indignation, she slapped his arm. “Don’t go on some tirade with me, Sir Aaron Kirkwood! Though, perhaps we could both learn from each other.”
“Learn what exactly?” he asked.