The Bookseller and the Earl Read online

  Just the thought of spending the next few hours with the man annoyed her. Not only did she have no interest in his lordship, and never would, but the idea that her mother conspired with Featherington’s mother to send the man to Bath to court her raised her ire even further.

  Lord Featherington looked at Berkshire. “Berkshire.” He gave a curt nod.

  “Featherington.” He nodded back.

  Of course, they would know each other since they were both peers. They eyed each other like two dogs after the same bone. In some ways she was pleased since she’d never had that happen to her before. But she was still faced with an evening with Lord Featherington.

  Suddenly, a scathingly brilliant idea occurred to her. She pulled her hand away from Featherington’s sweaty one and turned to Lord Berkshire. “Would you and Michael care to join Lord Featherington and me for dinner?”

  Featherington opened his mouth, she assumed to object, but good manners had him shutting it quickly. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Yes. Why don’t you and the lad join us?”

  Berkshire cast a questioning glance at Addie. She gave him a slight nod, her eyes boring into him which encouraged him to say, “Yes. That would be very nice.”

  “I will join you in a minute. I just need to freshen up.” Addie hurried to the back room where she kept water, a comb, a toothbrush, and tooth powder. While taking care of her needs, she spent the time grumbling about Mother’s interference, and having to spend time with Lord Featherington.

  She’d danced with him a few times at various events, and between her mistakes and his, and his constant huffing and wiping his brow, the occasions had been torturous. At least this was just dinner and hopefully, it would go well.

  After her ministrations, she returned to the men, feeling less grubby. “I am ready.”

  Both men held out their elbows. She dodged them both and took Michael’s hand. Featherington scowled at her. Berkshire grinned.

  “Where are we dining, my lord?” Addie locked the store, then dropped the keys into her reticule.

  Featherington waved to his carriage sitting in the street in front of the store. “I found a respectable little restaurant over on Wolcot Street that I thought we would enjoy.” He turned to Berkshire. “I assume you have your own carriage?”

  “Yes. But it probably makes more sense for us all to ride together. Don’t you think?” His smirk told Addie that he didn’t want her riding alone with Featherington. She still didn’t understand where she stood with Lord Berkshire, or where for that matter, he stood with her. They were friends, of a sort, and now that she met his son, she wanted to help him. Other than that, she had no idea.

  “If you prefer,” Featherington groused. He stepped in front of Berkshire to assist her into the carriage, crushing his foot in the process. Berkshire grunted and she wished she could explain to Berkshire that Featherington’s tromping on his foot was most likely accidental.

  She settled back in the seat, and once they were all comfortable, Featherington tapped on the ceiling of the carriage and the vehicle rolled away.

  Michael stared out the window while the adults remained quiet. Uncomfortable with the silence, Addie said to Featherington, “How is your mother, my lord?”

  “Quite well, thank you. Your mother is still a bit distraught at your rebellion.”

  Addie straightened, her stomach muscles clenching. How dare her mother refer to this as a rebellion. “This is not a rebellion my lord. This is my life.”

  “Bravo,” Berkshire said.

  Featherington waved her off. “One I’m sure you would be more than happy to give up for marriage and a family.”

  Addie ground her teeth so hard they would surely be in crumbles before they arrived at the restaurant. “No, my lord. I am sorry to disagree, but I have no plans to give up my bookstore. Or my life here.”

  Berkshire stepped in, most likely not wanting his son to witness fisticuffs, and made a comment about the roads and the city’s need to fix them. That resulted in a less threatening conversation that took up the remainder of the time until they reached Wolcot Street.

  The restaurant was one Addie was familiar with but had only eaten at a couple of times. They were led to a table near the south wall, where they all settled in and perused the menu. While not exactly crowded, the restaurant had a decent number of diners.

  Addie was taken by Michael who sat quietly in his chair, watching his father’s every move. When Berkshire asked Addie what looked good to her, the boy then looked over to her. Her heart broke a little bit at the confusion on the child’s face. She vowed right then to help Michael in whatever way she could.

  After about five minutes, the waiter appeared and took their orders. Addie just wanted the meal to be over before another contentious conversation began between her and Featherington, or one of them caused some damage to the restaurant.

  “So tell me, Berkshire, how is it you survive so well here, away from London?” Featherington smirked, obviously thinking that there was no place like London to call home. More specifically: Mayfair, London.

  Berkshire placed his fork alongside his plate. “I was never fond of London. Too noisy, too crowded, too hot in the summer.” He shrugged and wiped a spot on Michael’s mouth with a napkin.

  “What about your boy here? He would benefit from hobnobbing with the other lads of his rank.” He looked at Michael who was busy eating his food, ignoring the adults who, of course, he could not hear. “He’s a very quiet one. Is there something wrong with him?”

  Addie sucked in a breath at the man’s audacity. She quickly looked over at Berkshire who was calmly chewing his food. He took a sip of wine, swallowed, and looked Featherington in the eye. “My son is deaf.”

  “Ah. Too bad. I guess you’ll have to put him away soon.” Featherington continued to shovel food into his mouth, oblivious to Berkshire’s mounting rage.

  “I would no more put my son ‘away’ as you stated than Miss Mallory would sell her bookstore and move back to London.” Addie could almost see the steam coming from the man’s ears. It appeared if there were to be fisticuffs it would be between him and Lord Featherington.

  Featherington actually looked surprised. “I meant no insult. It’s just that—”

  “Perhaps we should change the conversation, my lord.” Addie interrupted Featherington before he made an even greater fool of himself. “I believe the subject of England’s weather or the queen’s next birthday celebration are always interesting benign topics.”

  Thankfully, Featherington nodded, but instead of the conversation switching to something less volatile, the rest of the meal was consumed in relative silence. She finally breathed a sigh of relief when Featherington signed the bill and they all stood to leave. She would need a tisane when she arrived home to relieve her of the pounding headache that had been served up with her dinner.

  “How long do you plan to stay in Bath, Featherington?” Lord Berkshire asked, once they were all settled and the carriage on its way back to her bookstore.

  Featherington looked over at Addie. “Not long.” When Addie didn’t look his way but continued to glare out the window at the passing stores, now all darkened for the evening, he added, “In fact, I will probably leave tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Berkshire muttered, as the carriage rolled over the cobblestones of Bath.

  Chapter Five

  “I rearranged a few of your books that were placed incorrectly on the shelves.” Mr. Morton, one of Addie’s most loyal customers placed three books on the counter for her to wrap.

  “Thank you so much. I can’t imagine how they got misplaced.” Addie hoped her red face didn’t give away her guilt. Because of her word blindness she oftentimes misread the book titles and authors and the books ended up in the most peculiar places.

  “I am happy to help. I am sure you have a lot to take care of, running this business by yourself.” Mr. Morton was not only her most loyal customer—he claimed he never bought a book anywhere else—but he
had also been one of her very first customers.

  She remembered the day Once Upon a Book opened for business under her new name. Mr. Morton, with his graying hair, slight paunch, and devil-may-care attitude had strolled through the door, looked around, smiled at her, waved his cane about, and declared, “This is my new favorite bookstore. I love the name.”

  He then proceeded to browse the store and purchased five books. He also encouraged his friends to patronize the store. Yes, he was her favorite customer.

  Mr. Morton picked up his books. “Well, you have a nice day, Miss Mallory.” He whistled as he left the store, leaving Addie in a cheerful mood, also.

  The day passed quickly, with a steady stream of customers. More misplaced books were brought to her attention. She really needed to slow down when she placed new books on the bookshelves. Most times her mistakes were because she either wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing or was rushed.

  Fortunately, she had finished her ledger books the day before. She hated that part of the job because math also confused her. When things didn’t balance, she oftentimes had to go back and check the numbers again. She looked forward to when she could have someone else do her books since she could very well be cheating herself.

  Later that day, she was just turning her ‘closed for lunch sign’ back over to ‘open’ after waving goodbye to Lottie and Pamela, when she saw Lord Berkshire crossing the street in front of the store, heading her way. His steps were brisk, his face full of determination.

  Addie backed up so he wouldn’t walk right into her when he entered the store. “My goodness you seem to be in a hurry.”

  His hair was mussed from the wind, and she was once again taken by his handsome face with its aristocratic features, deep brown eyes with long, dark eyelashes, and full lips that were right now turned up at the ends in a slight smile.

  When there were no customers in the store to keep her occupied, she foolishly spent time thinking about Berkshire in a way that was really not smart for a woman like her. She was no beauty, and her ineptness had disgraced her more than once. Did she forget how unacceptable she’d been during her Seasons? In fact, Lord Berkshire himself had looked right through her whenever she’d seen him at London events. Addie was definitely not the type of woman to whom a man like Lord Berkshire paid attention.

  But since the dinner she shared with him, Michael, and Lord Featherington, she’d begun to view Berkshire in a different way. He had definitely been, if not jealous, at least a bit annoyed that Lord Featherington was taking her to dinner. It was nice to know how other girls felt when two men were vying for her attention.

  Of course, Featherington had been sent by her mother, most likely with the offer of some sort of boon if he managed to pry her away from Bath, and Lord Berkshire was interested in her obtaining a book. She sighed. At least for a while, she could pretend.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when his lordship came to an abrupt halt only a few feet in front of her. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I have wonderful news!” His face glowed, which led her to believe the news was about Michael. How she would love to be the one who put that look on his face.

  “What is that?” She gestured toward the envelope. “You seem very excited.”

  “Yes, indeed.” He took a deep breath and slid the paper from the envelope and handed it to her. “I just heard from the headmaster at Institution Nationale des Sourds-Muets à Paris.”

  She skimmed the paper as he continued, her usual way of reading something, especially when someone was watching her. “They offered to take Michael as a student, but, in the event I do not want to do that given his age, they gave me the name of an organization in London for members who communicate with sign language.”

  “That is good news.” A sudden sinking in her stomach told her it wasn’t all good news. “Um, will you be moving to London, then?”

  Berkshire shook his head. “No. I do not want to live in London. It is my hope to travel there and speak to the members of this organization to see if I can persuade one of them to move to my house here and work with Michael.”

  He took the letter from her hand and slid it back into the envelope. “The city is not a good place for my son. The air is much too heavy with smoke and fog. My home a few miles outside of Bath has places for him to roam, where he can climb trees and do all the other things that young boys do. He is so restricted with his deafness I would never take that away from him.”

  She stared at his impassioned expression, so full of excitement and love for his child. “You are a remarkable father.”

  To her amusement, it was his turn to blush. She let out a breath of relief that he was not moving to London, which was absolutely foolish since she had no claim on him. In fact, he would probably laugh if he knew what she was thinking. She’d been laughed at enough, thank you very much, and didn’t need to mar their budding friendship by allowing him to see her foolishness. “I am very happy for you. When will you go to London?”

  “It depends.” He looked at her, then looked away. He seemed to be doing a great deal of thinking. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Just as she was about to ask him whatever was the matter, he said, “I don’t suppose you could find someone to tend to your store for a week or so?”

  Very few people had the power to stun Addie into silence, but Lord Berkshire had just done that very thing. Certain she misunderstood his question, she asked, “Why do you wish to know that?”

  “I know it’s a great deal to ask of you, and we haven’t really known each other that long, but I would love to have you travel with me and Michael to London to speak with the people in this organization. Mrs. Banfield will go, of course, as Michael’s tutor, and can act as chaperone. Unless, of course, you wish to bring your own chaperone. I believe you would be quite helpful in finding the right person.”

  When she didn’t answer because, quite frankly, her tongue was still unconscious, he added, “Mrs. Banfield is a woman in her fifties who is very conscious of proper behavior. I assume you will stay at your parents’ house, not my London townhouse, of course. It will all be above board, as I would never jeopardize your reputation, I can assure you of that.”

  Her head was spinning with his request, while at the same time considering who she could ask to run her store for a week. The most obvious solution was to ask Pamela and Lottie to take turns. With the two of them, it would not be a huge burden for either.

  “I don’t know anything about sign language. Are you sure you want my opinion?” Good gracious, no one had ever solicited her opinion before, and to think Lord Berkshire wanted her to help him select a tutor for his beloved son almost brought tears to her eyes.

  “Yes, I do. You are intelligent, helpful, and kind, and more importantly Michael adores you.” He grinned at the red flush that covered her face.

  “He does?” Oh, if only there was a way to stop this infernal blushing. She was certainly old enough not to fall to pieces every time someone complimented her.

  “Indeed.” He nodded. “Even though he cannot speak, he has his own way of letting me know when he likes someone. After our dinner the other night, his excitement as he tried to let me know how much he liked you was quite amusing.” He stopped for a minute, his smile fading. “And sad.”

  “I understand.” She’d been thinking since their dinner how hard it would be to have a child you loved beyond measure and have something seriously wrong with them. An affliction that some people thought required shutting the child away.

  His smile returned, a slight lifting of the right side of his mouth. “Will you go?” His eyes were warm with something she didn’t want to dwell on, while his smile reminded her of Michael. Except she was certain Berkshire was much more dangerous than Michael. She was sure he used that smile to entice many a woman into his bed.

  Addie tapped her lips with her finger. It would be nice to visit her parents. As a side benefit, there would be no need for them to visit her here in Bath anyti
me soon. As much as she loved them and was proud to show off what she’d accomplished, Mother seemed to spend her short visits to Bath trying to match her up with every gentleman who came into the store. It was downright embarrassing how she practically ambushed every man with the question, “And how is your wife today, sir?”

  Lord Berkshire reached out and took her hand. “I apologize. I have probably put you on the spot, and that was not my intention.”

  She glanced down at their hands. His large, warm, and a bit tanned from the sun, hers small and pale. She pulled her eyes away as a slight tingle began in her middle. “No. No. Do not trouble yourself over that. I was just trying to think of how I could arrange it.”

  His brows rose. “Do you mean you would actually consider it?”

  She looked at him, a slight smile gracing her lips. “Yes. I believe I would.”

  It was early morning, a week after Grayson asked Miss Mallory to accompany him to London. They were taking the train from Bath Spa Station to London. While Miss Mallory had been putting things in order at her store, he had sent a wire to the head of the organization in London alerting him to expect their visit. He received a very encouraging response and had high hopes that he would be able to secure the services of one of its members and move them to Bath to instruct him, Michael, Miss Mallory, and Mrs. Banfield in the art of silent communication.

  He had expectations of forming a similar organization in Bath. Surely there must be more people than his son who were afflicted with deafness. He refused to allow his son to grow up friendless because he couldn’t talk. And if he was to put up a decent fight against the legal threat that hung over their heads, this was an important step. He did his best to shove that matter to the back of his mind since he hadn’t heard any more about it for the last few weeks.

  He assisted Miss Mallory and Mrs. Banfield as they alighted from his carriage at the train station. Michael jumped down with no effort, his eyes wide, his arms waving frantically as he viewed the large train. There were porters racing back and forth, assisting passengers, and loading luggage onto the train that had steam coming from underneath its cars.