She closed the book and stood. It was not proper for her to be reading while there was a customer in the store, anyway. She strode, quite purposefully, to the front of the store and pulled out the feather duster from under the counter. Humming nothing in particular, she tackled the first bookcase; dusting enthusiastically, even though she’d performed that task earlier.
“This seems like a good book.”
Lottie jumped at the sound of Mr. Westbrooke’s voice so close to her. She drew in a sharp breath to see him standing not more than three feet from where she dusted. “Excuse me?”
He held up The Archipelago on Fire by Mr. Jules Verne. “Have you read it?”
Her tongue caught in a tangle, she could only shake her head. Why was he standing so close that she could smell his bath soap? It was time to take control. After all, she was an employee. Or a substitute. Or a friend of the owner. Or all three. “No. I have not read that book.” She backed away to make her escape and crashed into the bookcase behind her. Four books fell to the floor. When she bent to retried them, so did Mr. Westbrooke and they knocked heads.
“Ouch.” She rubbed her head and dropped the book she had picked up. Feeling like a fool, she said, “I apologize, Mr. Westbrooke. It seems it is not healthy for you to be around me. I dread to think what mishap I will bring about next. Your very life could be in danger.”
3
If Carter hadn’t been so happy to see the effect he was having on Miss Danvers, he would feel sorry for her. She was truly at sixes and sevens since he’d arrived. That was a good sign. He much preferred that to apathy. The rail ride home had been pleasant with him keeping the ladies entertained. He had also brought a lunch basket with him, compliments of Ross & Hager, a fine restaurant he patronized whenever in London.
They shared pâté, cheese, fruit, crackers, cold chicken, and apple tarts, along with lemonade. He thought he’d made progress in his courtship of Miss Danvers. Especially when she stumbled from the steps leaving the rail car and landed very nicely in his arms, all warm and soft and womanly. The surprise on her face when she looked up at him had soon turned to something else as they stared briefly at each other.
However, when they parted at the rail station, she thanked him for the meal and quickly linked her arm in Lady Pamela’s and practically dragged her to the hackney he’d hired for the two ladies, leaving him no chance for a private word with her.
Not to be deterred, he made the trip today in the pouring rain because he had to see her again. The day before had been taken up with business he needed to attend to for himself and Berkshire while the man was on his wedding trip.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Westbrooke?” Miss Danvers said.
Ah, if only you could read minds, Miss Danvers. You would know precisely how you can help me.
Carter offered her one of his best smiles. One that generally got a lady to agree to just about anything he proposed. “Can I get you to call me Carter? I feel we are friends enough for that allowance.”
He barely got the words out before Miss Danvers shook her head. “No. I don’t believe that is proper. We only just met.”
“I see,” he said, cupping his chin with his index finger and thumb. “How long do we need to know each other for that to occur? Or does it depend instead on how many times we are together? Or perhaps on whether we are in a crowd, or alone?”
She was just beginning to grin when the door to the store opened, the little bell ringing, announcing the presence of someone to interrupt his conversation.
He did not imagine the breath of relief Miss Danvers blew out as she said, “Excuse me.” She skirted around him and hurried over to the young woman with a small child clinging to her skirts. What mother brought her young child out in this rain? Especially when he was making progress with Miss Danvers, he groused.
He resumed browsing the shelves. He did truly want to buy a book since he spent most of his leisure time reading. A perfect evening for him would be a small glass of brandy or port at his side as he sat in front of his fireplace reading a good book. He oftentimes imagined a wife sitting there alongside him, doing her embroidery or reading, as well. Then when the night grew late, they would hold hands as they climbed the stairs together and spend time in bed making love.
He had always intended to marry, but at thirty years of age, he’d never met anyone with whom he felt he could share the rest of his life. He attended the dances at the Bath Assembly Rooms on occasion and knew many of the single women in the town. At least those who were on the hunt for a husband.
Despite his mother’s insistence, he refused to enter the London Marriage Mart fray. The mothers there were downright scary. His brother, Charles, had been caught in a noose by a young lady who he accidentally compromised. Luckily for him, Lady Hastings turned out to be not such a bad wife.
Since he’d never seen Miss Danvers, either at London society events or the Bath Assembly, and had not met her at any other social event in the past year she had lived in Bath, he assumed she was not interested in a husband. It was quite preposterous to assume that a beauty like her would not have men dropping proposals at her feet left and right.
He returned the book he’d been looking through and glanced over at Miss Danvers, who was bending down speaking to the young child.
She had a way of speaking that mesmerized him. She was all hands and gestures when she spoke, even though he was quite certain the proper boarding school she had attended would have frowned upon that. What baffled him was why a woman as beautiful as Miss Danvers, along with her charming personality and kindness, was not searching for a husband.
There was no doubt in his mind that she’d been brought up a lady and her parents would expect her to make a successful match. If she didn’t want a husband, he wanted to know why. He was almost certain she was suffering from a broken heart.
He managed to keep himself busy while Miss Danvers dealt with the customer. After a lengthy discussion and a purchase of two children’s books, the woman and her charge left the store.
“Miss Danvers, may I entice you to join me for lunch?” He glanced out the window, something he’d already done before he raised his question. “It appears the rain has stopped. If you will do me the honor of accepting my invitation, I can escort you in my carriage to whichever restaurant you fancy.”
She
hesitated, her teeth clamping down on her lovely lower lip. He wanted to cover those lips with his own and run his tongue over them until she opened, allowing him to taste her. Feel the velvet of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. “I am sure Lady Berkshire doesn’t expect you to bypass lunch to take care of her store.”
Miss Danvers shook her head. “No. In fact, when Lady Berkshire was in town, she, Lady Pamela, and I met every day here in the store for a late lunch, or I guess you could call it tea. But Lady Pamela is unable to meet today since she has a new pupil and she needs more time to evaluate her music skills.”