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The Bookseller and the Earl Page 13
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Even though Mr. Dickens’ book, A Christmas Carol, was published over forty years before, Mr. Evans assured her she would receive many requests for a copy once December arrived.
She was excited to decorate her store for Christmas, too. She could already see the cute little toys and books she would display in the front window.
Excitedly, she turned to Grayson as his rented carriage transporting them from the train to his townhouse pulled away from the station. “I put an order in for my Christmas books over a month ago. I should dash off a note to Lottie and make sure they arrived.”
Grayson waved his hand. “Do not fret over that, sweeting. Let the new owner deal with any problems having to do with book orders.” He looked out the window at the cloudy day. “I hope the rain holds off until we’ve unloaded all of our luggage.” He grinned at her. “You certainly bought enough things on our trip.”
Addie had frozen at his words. She shook her head as if she could loosen the words her new husband had just spoken. “What did you say?”
He reached out and ran his finger down her cheek. “I said, my dear, you purchased enough things in Brighton Beach to fill up the entire newly added suitcase.”
Her hands fisted in her lap, and her heart thudding like a racehorse, she took a deep breath. “No. That’s not what I meant. I’m asking, what you said about my bookstore?”
He regarded her with raised brows. “I said it was not necessary for you to fret about the bookstore since the new owner will deal with any issues that arose while you were gone. I have two potential buyers interested in purchasing the shop.”
Addie felt closer to swooning than she had when she had worn the tightened stays that had landed her in this position. Married to a man who now assumed he would run her life.
She raised her chin. “I am sorry you have gone through such trouble, my lord, because I have no intention of selling my bookstore.”
Grayson took one final look out the window and dropped the curtain. “It will be much easier on you to have a new owner than to try to hire someone competent to run the place.”
“Wait.” She put her shaking hand up to stop him. “I believe we are at a crossroads here, my lord. I have no intention of selling my store, nor having someone run it for me. It is my store. I own it. I shall run it.”
The man actually looked surprised. No. He looked aghast. “You will not be working in a bookstore.”
“Not a bookstore, my lord. My bookstore.”
All humor and teasing left his voice and demeanor. “I will not have my countess working in a store like a common laborer. You have a proper place to assume in Society, the management of my households, looking out for the welfare of my tenants, and the care of my son.
She gritted her teeth. “My household. My tenants. My son. Do you not see anything wrong with that?”
The blasted dimwit actually looked confused. “No. What is wrong with what I said?”
Addie wanted to punch someone in the face. Not just someone, but her new husband. However, since the carriage was drawing up to the front of the townhouse, she managed to get herself under control. Barely. “We will discuss this later.”
She would not show up at her new home screaming like a shew for all the servants and neighbors to witness. She would be dignified and graceful. She would enter the townhouse as the lady she was. She would meet the staff and then suggest they send for tea. She would drink it and eat lovely biscuits and offer charming chatter.
Then she would invite her cretin husband to their bedchamber. Not for a rousing session in bed, but for a sword-less battle. Maybe not sword-less if she could find one in his house.
The door to the carriage promptly opened and a footman stood there. “Good afternoon, my lord, my lady.” He gave a deep bow.
“Good afternoon, Jason.” Grayson jumped from the carriage and turned to assist Addie out. Drawing on all her years of training she smiled at the footman. “Good afternoon.” Then she accepted her husband’s hand and promptly exited the carriage landing with all her weight on his foot.
Grayson winced, but said nothing.
The childish action making her feel a bit better, Addie walked up the steps, her hand resting on her husband’s arm. Because of the chilly weather, the staff was lined up in the corridor, rather than outside, to meet the new lady of the house. Since Grayson was rarely in London, the servants were few.
As she stepped into the entrance hall, Addie cringed at the reminder of the garish decor that she would be more than happy to replace.
The servants smiled, curtsied and bowed. She put aside her angst at her husband and greeted each staff member warmly, using each one’s name as they were introduced to her to help her remember.
That requisite formality out of the way, Addie did as she planned and asked for tea. She made a point of sending for Cook so she could rave about the biscuits, scones, and tarts. The woman was blushing with happiness when she left them.
Addie and her new husband conducted a stilted conversation over tea, exclaiming over the array of treats Cook had sent, the weather, Parliament, the poor conditions of the roads in London, and the plans already in the making for the queen’s golden jubilee celebration.
Once Addie was sure they covered all the required subjects, she wiped her mouth, placed the napkin carefully next to her plate and placed her hands demurely in her lap. “I would request you join me in our bedchamber, my lord.”
At first Grayson’s eyes lit up, but when he took a better look at her face, he sobered and nodded. “Of course, my dear.”
She swept from the room like a queen and made her way upstairs. Once the door to the bedchamber was closed, Addie drew herself up and faced her husband. “I have no intention of giving up my bookstore. You might be my husband, and by law own all that is mine, but this is one thing on which I will not concede.”
He started to move forward, most likely to wrap his arms around her, which would start a whole new activity that she was not ready for just yet.
When she held her hand out, palm up, he stopped and said, “We are both tired from the hurried wedding and trip. Also, we need to focus on the hearing next week. I don’t think this is something we should discuss right now.”
As much as she hated to give up the conversation, he was correct. The two of them squabbling like children while trying to deal with the upcoming legal issue was not wise. She gave him a brisk nod. “I agree. However, I will say one thing. Do not. I repeat, do not even think to sell my bookstore before we’ve spoken about this.”
“Very well. I agree.” He reached his hand out. “Is it possible for us to call a truce now?”
Addie’s stomach was still in knots. “I don’t think that would work right now.”
He walked to the bed, sat down, and patted the spot next to him. “Come join me. Just to talk.”
She might be a new bride, but she was already aware of her husband’s tactics. The look he cast her almost had her clothes going up in flames.
He offered her that crooked, little-boy smile that always went right to her heart. “I just want to hold you. Rub your back. It will relax you.” With his big brown eyes and the hair falling over his forehead, he almost looked penitent, but she knew better. Still, at his words, she felt her muscles relax and her nipples hardening.
He held his hand out again. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She should hold onto her anger and dignity and walk right out the door. Instead, she found her feet slowly moving toward the bed. She sighed. When it came to Grayson, she had little resistance.
Damn the man.
After putting herself to rights following their tumble in bed, Addie spent the rest of the day with Michael. Shortly after they sent a note to Mother informing her of their return, her stepson had returned from the Mallory townhouse, along with Mrs. Banfield, where they had resided while Addie and Grayson had been on their trip.
Addie was truly amazed at how quickly her mother had gone from scheming marriage-minded mama to Grand
mama. All the rules and regulations that had applied to Addie and Marcus while growing up, seemed to have disappeared with Michael.
And of course, being the smart lad that he was, and very much like his father, Michael played right into her hands. His beautiful smile and loving ways got him pretty much anything he wanted.
Grayson had left after their ‘truce’ to visit with the barrister who would be meeting them in court the following week. She and Michael were in the library, practicing their sign language. Addie was thrilled at how quickly the boy had picked up the skill. He would need years to master the method of communication, but right now they could hold a short conversation by moving their hands and pointing. It was incredible.
Brooks, the very imposing butler at the Berkshire townhouse entered the room. “My lady. You have a caller.”
Addie looked up at him from where she sat, very undignified, on the floor, with pictures of various items spread out before them. “Who is calling?”
Brooks walked to where she sat, not showing any sort of reaction to the unseemly position in which he’d found the lady of the house. He handed a card to her.
Mrs. Peter Hartley
Addie frowned. The name did not seem familiar to her. She hated asking a personal question of the staff, but she also did not want to admit a caller she knew nothing about. “Do you know Mrs. Hartley?”
Brooks lifted his nose in the air which told her more than what he was about to say. “She is the widow of his lordship’s brother, Mr. Peter Hartley.”
Oh, goodness. She was a relative. Addie jumped up and began brushing her skirts, then she realized who Mrs. Hartley was. She was Grayson’s sister-in-law who had brought the legal action against Michael. “One more question, Brooks. Does his lordship have any other brothers?”
She couldn’t believe that she was married to a man about whom she knew so little, but theirs had been a quick courtship. The only relative who had attended their wedding had been Michael.
“No, my lady. Mr. Peter Hartley was his lordship’s only sibling.”
This was the woman who had instigated the legal conflict. Addie patted her hair and glanced down at Michael. “Brooks, will you take Michael upstairs to Mrs. Banfield? And then send for tea after you put Mrs. Hartley in the drawing room.”
“That is where she is, my lady.”
“Very good. Thank you.”
As she straightened her clothing and considered going upstairs to change into something a bit more formal, Addie thought about this woman she was about to meet. She apparently loved her son enough to try to legally wrestle away Grayson’s son inheritance and title.
But on the other hand, she had no regard for her nephew who was in no way an idiot, or incompetent. As she made her way to the drawing room, it occurred to her that it was odd that both Mrs. Hartley and Grayson were widowed.
Addie found the woman standing, her arms crossed, staring out the window. When she heard Addie enter, she turned and regarded her. The first words that came into Addie’s head were ‘ice queen.’
Mrs. Hartley’s hair was so blonde it was almost white. She had very little in the way of eyebrows and her lips, like her skin, was insipid. Her eyes were such a pale blue that Addie was forced to look away. “Good afternoon Mrs. Hartley.”
The woman viewed Addie with contempt. “Well, it seems you are the new countess.”
A bit taken aback by Mrs. Hartley’s greeting, she said, “That would be correct. May we sit down?” Addie waved to the small sofa in front of the fireplace.
“I’m not sure. Perhaps I must remain standing while you sit. Isn’t that the way it is with a commoner and the aristocracy?”
Addie was stunned. She had never met anyone who disliked her so much on sight. Even the young ladies who had tortured her throughout her Seasons didn’t have the amount of hate that spewed from this woman.
“I have ordered tea. If you wish to continue to stand and hold your cup, saucer, and plate in your hand, that is your prerogative.” Addie settled herself on the sofa and looked up at the woman.
Slowly Mrs. Hartley lowered herself to the chair opposite Addie. “Where did you come from? I had no idea that Grayson was courting anyone.”
“And you two were so close that he didn’t advise you of that? So close that he forgot to invite you to our wedding? Or perhaps you forgot to come?” Addie was becoming more annoyed by the minute. How dare this woman come into her house and speak to her in this manner.
“He’ll never love you; you know.”
Addie’s heart began to thump and suddenly she wanted to jump up and leave the room. She was afraid this woman was about to tell her something she did not want to hear.
Attempting an indifferent demeanor, she said, “The relationship I have with my husband is of no concern of yours. Might I ask what is the purpose of your visit? If you have come to welcome me into the family, I am afraid your intention falls a bit short.”
Mrs. Hartley leaned back and crossed her arms. “Did he tell you his wife, Margaret, was running away with my husband, who she was having an affair with, when they were killed in a carriage accident?”
Addie lost her breath and felt the blood drain from her face. So that was the scandal involving Grayson’s wife that had been bandied about the ton.
The clock behind her ticked much louder than normal while Addie composed herself. “I must once again state that our marriage is none of your business or concern.” Addie stood. “Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters needing my attention.”
Addie moved swiftly, anxious to be gone from the woman’s presence. As she reached the door to the drawing room, Mrs. Hartley called out, “He was desperately in love with Margaret. On the day she was buried, he told me he would never marry again because he could never open up his heart to another woman.”
Addie turned back, her chin raised. “Things change.”
Mrs. Hartley smirked at her. “Has he told you he loved you?” Her smile grew wider. “Ah, yes. I can see by your expression that he has not.”
The woman stood and leaned over to pick up her reticule. “He never will, either. Margaret was the love of his life and that will never change, no matter how hard you try.”
Barely keeping herself under control, Addie whispered, “Please leave my home. Now.”
Mrs. Hartley strolled toward the door, swinging her reticule. “I am going, Lady Berkshire. But remember when he turns to you in your bed at night and takes you in his arms, he is wishing you were Margaret.” With those words resounding off the walls, the harridan made her departure.
Addie leaned against the closed door and wrapped her arms around her middle. She felt sick to her stomach. All the joy and happiness she’d experienced at Brighton Beach had dissolved like sugar in hot tea.
Her husband would never love her, and he planned to sell her bookstore.
Chapter Fourteen
It had been a long week as they all waited for the court hearing at the Court in Chancery. Grayson already knew Addie was upset about his plan to sell the bookstore, but there was something else bothering her. The closeness they shared during their trip to Brighton Beach had disappeared.
Each day he felt Addie pull farther away from him. They continued to make love every night, but something was missing. The passion was still there, but he no longer felt the closeness.
And he missed it. Missed her.
He hadn’t changed his mind about having his countess work in a store, but there had to be some sort of compromise they could reach so things could go back to the way they were.
“Are you ready?” Addie joined him in the library, her empty smile bringing his spirits down further.
Grayson picked up the notes he’d been making while he waited for his wife. “Yes. Where is Michael?”
“He’s with Mrs. Banfield. They will be down any minute.”
“How does he appear? Is he nervous?”
Addie smiled, the warm smile that used to be for him, but now only appeared when she spo
ke of Michael. He really had to get to the bottom of this once the hearing ended.
“No. In fact, he appears more excited to show off his new skills than nervous.”
Grayson walked toward her and took her hands in his. He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for my son.”
Addie pulled away, her eyes shuttered. “‘Tis my duty, my lord.” She turned and walked to the door, her back straight.
Grayson shook his head. Yes. He would get to the bottom of this. Soon.
The courthouse loomed before them and he had to admit to twinges of nervousness himself. His barrister, Mr. Daniel Albright met them as they entered the building.
“Are we ready?” the barrister asked as he joined them, his steps jaunty. He turned from Grayson and bowed to Mrs. Banfield and Addie. “Good morning, my lady. Mrs. Banfield.”
When Mr. Albright had suggested that Addie do the interpretation during the hearing for Michael instead of his tutor, Mr. Graves, Grayson was a bit reluctant, wanting to make sure everything went well. But Mr. Albright was adamant that Addie would garner more support being a woman, the boy’s stepmother, and very competent in sign language.
They entered the room in the Court in Chancery where the hearing was to be held. Grayson nodded briefly to his sister-in-law, Beatrice, and the man sitting alongside her, who he assumed was her legal representative. His nephew, David Hartley, was nowhere to be seen, but perhaps he wasn’t needed for this hearing even though their hoped-for outcome would benefit him.
Grayson immediately noticed that with tightened lips, Addie ignored Beatrice striding right past her, although she had never met her before. He was not in the mood to introduce them, so he just herded his group into the chairs facing the front of the room.
He glanced briefly at Beatrice and frowned at the smirk she tossed at Addie, which he found odd. Addie continued to stare straight ahead, but her face had paled. Perhaps she was nervous, too. He reached over and took her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze.