Nicola and the Viscount by Meg Cabot

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    All too quickly, the Catch Me Who Can ran out of steam and chugged to a halt. The passengers, with much laughter and praise for Mr. Trevithick, tumbled out of their carts. Some—like young Phillip Sheridan, who had enjoyed his ride immensely—immediately ran back to the line, another shilling at the ready. Others, like Nicola and the God, stood and gushed about what a glorious experience it had been. Still others, Nicola could not help noticing, stood and looked disapproving. That, at least, was what Nathaniel Sheridan was doing.
    I suppose because he thinks it isn’t proper for girls to ride on the Catch Me Who Can, Nicola thought bitterly. Well, she would show him. She would go for another ride, just like Phillip was doing….
    Except that just as she was opening her reticule to search for a shilling, Honoria came rushing up, followed by her parents.
    â€œNicola!” she cried. “How was it?”
    Nicola replied, loudly enough so that she could be certain Nathaniel overheard, that it had been perfectly delightful, and that she intended to do it again.
    Lord Farelly, upon hearing this, burst into loud guffaws.
    â€œSee?” he said to his wife. “See, Virginia? I told you. We’ll make a railroad enthusiast out of you yet, Miss Sparks.”
    Nicola, her eyes shining, said, “Oh, I should think I’m one already, Lord Farelly. Tell me, do you really think they’ll have engines like this all over England one day?”
    â€œAbsolutely.” Lord Farelly, who was a big man, flung one arm about Nicola’s shoulders, and another about his daughter’s, and brought them both in toward his green velvet waistcoat for an enormous bearlike hug. “All over England, all over the Continent…maybe even all over the world. People who think of trains merely as useful tools for hauling coal or timber haven’t really thought it out. The most precious of cargo can be transported safely and quickly by railroad.”
    Nicola, who felt her bonnet was being rather scrunched in Lord Farelly’s embrace, exchanged a comic glance with Lord Sebastian, who stood nearby, grinning at her. “Precious cargo?” Nicola echoed. “You mean diamonds?”
    â€œNot at all.” As abruptly as he’d grasped them, Lord Farelly released the girls. “People, my dear. People! That will be the railroad’s true calling. Transporting people to their loved ones who live far away.”
    â€œOh,” Nicola said, tucking a few curls that had slipped from beneath her bonnet back where they belonged. “I see.”
    â€œIf you are quite finished, Jarvis,” Lady Farelly said in a bored voice, “might we go home now? I quite long for my lamb cutlet, which you so cruelly forced me to abandon in order to accompany you on this little…jaunt.”
    Lord Farelly declared that they could and would go home now. And, after bidding polite good-byes to the Sheridans (Nicola stubbornly avoiding the knowing grin of Eleanor—who was all atwitter over the way the God had draped his arm about Nicola—and the equally knowing gaze of Nathaniel, who had also witnessed it, and from right up close, having sat behind Nicola’s cart), they were all turning to do exactly that when Honoria, gazing across the crowded square, cried, “I say, Nicola, but isn’t that your uncle?”
    Nicola looked, and was somewhat astonished to see the Grouser as well as the Milksop staring in her direction. The Blenkenships were not, of course, standing anywhere close to the line for the Catch Me Who Can , the Grouser being too old, and the Milksop entirely too low-spirited ever to set foot on any such thing. Still, they had clearly come to observe others riding in the contraption…and the Grouser, in particular, did not look too pleased to see that one of those riders had been one of his own relatives.
    Stuff and bother! Could Nicola never do anything to please the