“I do like ices.”
“Ye like all confections,” Abigail said. “Ye even liked that book about confections I found for ye last week.”
Lily smiled, restored to her usual glow. “I should have liked to read it through, but I’d nothing to trade for it.”
“Ah.” Tobias reached into his pocket. “It just so happens that I have a book here that I’ve been meaning to sell.” He pulled forth a small volume. “We shall trade this for your confectioner’s book, Lady Lily.”
“Oh, thank ye!” She took the proffered volume cheerily.
Una caught Teresa’s eye and her brow lifted. Teresa offered a breezy smile, but she’d glimpsed the title. It was her brother’s most cherished book, a history by an ancient Greek historian that he had carried with him to war and back again.
“Thank ye, sir,” Una said. “Yer kind to our family.”
“I pray you, don’t thank me, my lady,” he replied. “It’s my pleasure.”
The bookshop was an elegant little cabinet at the end of a long corridor from an unremarkable door leading off the street, snug, smelling of lemon polish, and ceiling to floor with books. But the wood of the bookshelves sparkled, the chairs arranged here and there were beautifully upholstered, and several very fine albeit tiny oil paintings decorated the miniscule wall space. The shopkeeper greeted them distractedly. Then abruptly he came to attention and slid off his stool behind the desk. He straightened his spectacles and smoothed out his otherwise neat waistcoat.
“Good day, ladies.” He bowed. “Lady Abigail,” he said in a quieter voice. She gave him a little smile and a nod then went to a shelf and pulled down a book.
“Is this the one ye showed me afore, sir?” she said.
“Yes.” He hurried to her. “Yes. That’s the one.”
Una, Moira, and Lily wandered deeper into the shop. Teresa took her brother’s arm to detain him.
“You went off so swiftly yesterday after our ride in the park that I hadn’t the opportunity to speak with you privately,” she whispered.
“Ah, yes. Sorry about that.” He seemed distracted.
“And . . .?”
“And?”
“It’s been three days and you haven’t said a word about your conversation with Lord Eads. Did you speak with him?” The earl had not accepted the invitation to walk in the park with his sisters the previous day, and the day before that had been taken up entirely with measuring and hemming gowns. Teresa was rather desperate to see him again. But she supposed he saw no reason for that unless he owed her payment on their wager.
Abigail and the shopkeeper stood with their heads bent close, whispering earnestly. He gestured with the book as though to emphasize a point. She laughed. Abigail—serious, bookish, quiet Abigail who had not spoken a single syllable at Lady B’s drawing room— laughed aloud . It sounded like rusty bells tinkling. But the shopkeeper smiled as though he’d won a prize.
Teresa stared. Then, as the shopkeeper moved half a step closer to Abigail, her belly filled with butterflies.
“Toby?” she whispered. “Did Lord Eads meet with your approval? I must assume he did or you would not be ferrying his sisters about in a carriage you hired.”
“I didn’t hire it. Eads did, of course.” Tobias was still facing her but his gaze was fixed deeper into the shop. Teresa didn’t have to follow his attention to know where it rested.
Her nerves sang. Abigail and the bookseller! And Lily and Tobias ? Teresa hadn’t seen any sign of her brother’s especial interest in that twin as yet. But he had given away his most cherished keepsake for her. Could it be love already? It must at least be strong admiration.
She drew in a steadying breath. She mustn’t get ahead of herself. But now Abigail was looking straight into the shopkeeper’s face and her hand rested beside his on the open page.
“Tell me, Toby.” Nerves cracked her voice.
Tobias’s attention came back to her a little dazedly. She resisted
“Ye like all confections,” Abigail said. “Ye even liked that book about confections I found for ye last week.”
Lily smiled, restored to her usual glow. “I should have liked to read it through, but I’d nothing to trade for it.”
“Ah.” Tobias reached into his pocket. “It just so happens that I have a book here that I’ve been meaning to sell.” He pulled forth a small volume. “We shall trade this for your confectioner’s book, Lady Lily.”
“Oh, thank ye!” She took the proffered volume cheerily.
Una caught Teresa’s eye and her brow lifted. Teresa offered a breezy smile, but she’d glimpsed the title. It was her brother’s most cherished book, a history by an ancient Greek historian that he had carried with him to war and back again.
“Thank ye, sir,” Una said. “Yer kind to our family.”
“I pray you, don’t thank me, my lady,” he replied. “It’s my pleasure.”
The bookshop was an elegant little cabinet at the end of a long corridor from an unremarkable door leading off the street, snug, smelling of lemon polish, and ceiling to floor with books. But the wood of the bookshelves sparkled, the chairs arranged here and there were beautifully upholstered, and several very fine albeit tiny oil paintings decorated the miniscule wall space. The shopkeeper greeted them distractedly. Then abruptly he came to attention and slid off his stool behind the desk. He straightened his spectacles and smoothed out his otherwise neat waistcoat.
“Good day, ladies.” He bowed. “Lady Abigail,” he said in a quieter voice. She gave him a little smile and a nod then went to a shelf and pulled down a book.
“Is this the one ye showed me afore, sir?” she said.
“Yes.” He hurried to her. “Yes. That’s the one.”
Una, Moira, and Lily wandered deeper into the shop. Teresa took her brother’s arm to detain him.
“You went off so swiftly yesterday after our ride in the park that I hadn’t the opportunity to speak with you privately,” she whispered.
“Ah, yes. Sorry about that.” He seemed distracted.
“And . . .?”
“And?”
“It’s been three days and you haven’t said a word about your conversation with Lord Eads. Did you speak with him?” The earl had not accepted the invitation to walk in the park with his sisters the previous day, and the day before that had been taken up entirely with measuring and hemming gowns. Teresa was rather desperate to see him again. But she supposed he saw no reason for that unless he owed her payment on their wager.
Abigail and the shopkeeper stood with their heads bent close, whispering earnestly. He gestured with the book as though to emphasize a point. She laughed. Abigail—serious, bookish, quiet Abigail who had not spoken a single syllable at Lady B’s drawing room— laughed aloud . It sounded like rusty bells tinkling. But the shopkeeper smiled as though he’d won a prize.
Teresa stared. Then, as the shopkeeper moved half a step closer to Abigail, her belly filled with butterflies.
“Toby?” she whispered. “Did Lord Eads meet with your approval? I must assume he did or you would not be ferrying his sisters about in a carriage you hired.”
“I didn’t hire it. Eads did, of course.” Tobias was still facing her but his gaze was fixed deeper into the shop. Teresa didn’t have to follow his attention to know where it rested.
Her nerves sang. Abigail and the bookseller! And Lily and Tobias ? Teresa hadn’t seen any sign of her brother’s especial interest in that twin as yet. But he had given away his most cherished keepsake for her. Could it be love already? It must at least be strong admiration.
She drew in a steadying breath. She mustn’t get ahead of herself. But now Abigail was looking straight into the shopkeeper’s face and her hand rested beside his on the open page.
“Tell me, Toby.” Nerves cracked her voice.
Tobias’s attention came back to her a little dazedly. She resisted
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