The Bookseller and the Earl (The Merry Misfits of Bath 1)

He walked to the sideboard and poured a small glass of brandy. Tall, confident, handsome, and charming, Adeline always idolized her brother, wishing she could be more like him and less like herself.

His expression softened. “Will it make you happier than you were tonight at the Everson’s ball, poppet?” As usual, her brother had attended the same event, spending his time avoiding the marriage-minded mamas. She had only seen him briefly, but he apparently had been watching her.

She blinked away the tears rushing to her eyes. “Yes. I believe so.”

He downed the drink and shrugged. “Then do it.” With those curt words, he offered her stunned parents a slight bow and left the room.

Chapter One

October 1886

Adeline raised the shade in the front window of her bookstore, Once Upon a Book, making a quick note that the display needed to be changed. She generally did it the first of each month, but somehow she’d gotten busy with new inventory and had forgotten to do it.

Every month she offered the spot to one local author to showcase their books. It had helped to build her business, and the authors had been grateful for help with their sales. In turn, those authors sent their friends to Once Upon a Book.

She’d been considering forming a book club where she would invite local authors to read and discuss their books to the members. She had already started a children’s reading circle that met every Saturday morning.

Addie—as she was now known in Bath—had turned into quite a good businesswoman and had never been so happy in her adult life as she’d been the past year.

After many sessions of tears and pleading, Mother had finally relented and grudgingly offered her blessing to Addie's plan. Most likely Addie's refusal to attend any further ton affairs eventually swayed her. Though she doubted Mother truly understood Addie’s decision. Before her father married her mother, she had been one of the ton’s Incomparables. She had enjoyed a social life with numerous suitors, flowers, rides in the park, and dance partners. Something Addie had never experienced herself.

Father had generously bought not only the store for her, but instead of renting rooms, he’d purchased a small house at the edge of town, along with a carriage and a pair of Cleveland bays.

Addie, however, had acquired a sturdy bicycle and was proficient enough to get around town without having to make use of the carriage. She found she only used the vehicle when traveling at night since bicycle riding was dangerous after dark.

In one of the many sessions they had when considering the bookstore, Father had told her that as far as the business went, she was on her own for keeping it running. If she felt she was capable enough to take on the project, he would bow to her intelligence and capabilities and assume she could make enough money to be successful.

She was thrilled with his confidence in her, and so far she had done quite well, and was happy with the money she’d squirreled away in the bank. The one concession she’d made to her parents was to bring Mrs. Wesley with her. Mother was appalled that she intended to live alone with no chaperone. No amount of arguments on Addie's part changed her mind, so Mrs. Wesley was happily ensconced in the second bedroom in Addie's little house. Her companion and chaperone spent most of her day keeping the household running and supervising the cook and one parlor maid Addie employed.

Addie turned from the window and surveyed her kingdom. Highly polished dark wooden floors supported twelve bookcases. Half of the bookcases held non-fiction books on every subject available, shelved according to the new Dewey Decimal system—most times. With her word blindness problem, books occasionally got mixed up.

The other half of the shelves contained novels, memoirs, poetry, and to her delight many female authors. Miss Jane Austen, George Eliot, Mary Wollstonecraft, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Helen Hunt Jackson, and several others held spaces on her shelves along with the popular Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, and Lewis Carroll.

Instead of the fussy wallpapers so prevalent everywhere, she had decided on cream-colored walls with pale green trim. The only artwork displayed on the walls were a few paintings of mostly soothing scenery done by a local artist.

Most days the long windows along the sides of the building and the front bay window provided enough light for customers, but for evening and cloudy days, she had two pendant gas lights attached to the ceiling, and a few gas lamps on small tables scattered around the room.

With feather duster in hand, Addie smiled as she dusted the shelves, lost in her thoughts, until a soft tinkle of the bell hanging over the front door sounded, alerting her to the arrival of a customer.

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“Addie, where are you hiding?” Charlotte Danvers, known as Lottie to her friends, called out as her eyes swept the store.

Sticking her head around one of the bookcases, she said, “Back here, Lottie. I’m dusting the shelves.”

Lottie was one of the two best friends Addie had made since her move to Bath. At the mere age of twenty, Lottie had also escaped London and its frivolity. A strikingly beautiful girl, Lottie held a secret close to her heart that she hadn’t shared, even with her best friends. The only personal thing Addie and Lady Pamela knew about Lottie was that she was estranged from her mother who lived in London.

Lottie had refused to accept any money from her mother and supported herself by giving lessons in French, social manners, polite conversation, painting, dance, and music to young ladies in Bath wishing to enter the marriage mart. All things she’d perfected while studying in France.

“Have my books come in yet?” Lottie joined Addie at the third row of books.

“Yes, it came in yesterday. I spent the entire day unloading my most recent order from London.” Addie crossed her arms over her chest, the feather duster sticking up, almost reaching her nose. “How can you read those silly romance books?”

“Reading keeps me from feeling sorry for myself.”

Addie studied her friend. “I know we’ve spoken of this before, but I think you should visit your mother.”

“Subject closed.” Lottie turned on her heel and Addie followed her to the front of the store.