Chapter 2 The Search
After coming so close to disaster, Mia couldn’t believe how well things had worked out.
She hadn’t just managed to find her way into the Bells’ library for an evening, she’d actually found a way to get in there for weeks, as long as she wanted to.
She had even found a way to make him think it had been his idea.
He had asked her like it was, anyway. A trap he had walked straight into.
She hadn’t planned it; the idea had just come to her.
She had learned from not just Beatrice, but a number of London gossip rags about the Bells’ money problems. The Bells had once been known as the richest family in the county, but it was rumored that they had lost at least half their fortune in just two years!
The Bells, though, had always been known for their lavish spending. They hosted extravagant balls and had a stable full of prize-winning horses as well as a large pack of bloodhounds, one gossip column read. Mr. Bell’s spending habits, in particular, were supposedly second to none.
Even the way he dressed. He only wore the finest clothes, probably only drank the finest brandy too. It was shameful, Mia thought. Because of his careless spending, the Bells had had to reduce their staff by nearly half.
It was why England’s most eligible bachelor needed to get married in the first place. And yet they continued to spend by hosting that ball. So of course he had jumped at the idea that the library could be a honey hole.
Something told her he didn’t want to get married. At least to any of the women at the ball. He had followed her out into the hall for a reason. He’d been bored…probably.
Maybe it had just been because he’d thought she had been a thief. Whatever the reason, he knew who her father was now—working class, and therefore, she wasn’t an option for him. Not in the least.
Alone with him in that hallway, Lord knew what might have happened. But thanks to her father’s widespread reputation and her quick thinking, it had all worked out in the end.
Here she was unpacking her things at Bell Manor with her aunt in the room just next door.
Aunt Viv had been easy to convince. They could use the income; plus, Bell Manor was much finer with a great many more servants, even with half dismissed, than their London home.
Not to mention its formal gardens and flower fields, which her aunt was only too tempted to explore.
The fact that the home housed one of England’s most eligible bachelors didn’t hurt, either.
Aunt Viv was rather fanciful and was already plotting to bring them together somehow. Even if it didn’t make sense.
Mia had already tried to explain it to the woman. They were working class. Mr. Bell and his family had debts, and there was no knowing how much the family library might really be worth. So of course he had his sights on ladies of much higher circumstance. There was also his reputation.
“Gossip?” Aunt Viv guffawed. “Never believe gossip.”
Aunt Viv didn’t get it. Or maybe she just didn’t want to. She’d much rather believe that love really could conquer all.
Mia just shook her head. Sometimes it was hard to believe her aunt was a spinster at all. Between strands of gray, Aunt Viv still had many vibrant streaks of red, which, along with her high cheek bones and sharp, cat-like eyes, must have been stunning not too long ago.
Aunt Viv didn’t like to talk about it, but there had been one man she had almost married.
A sailor whom Aunt Viv had waited years for, even turned down other offers for, only for him to slip away and marry another.
By then, it had been too late for her, she’d said.
That hadn’t made her aunt bitter, though.
It had seemed to make her determined to ensure Mia didn’t experience the same.
Mia wanted to believe in love too. But she was always so focused on books, new and old. She simply hadn’t made time for love, particularly the kind of scheming and plotting that sometimes seemed to go along with it.
She was already so eager to start looking through the crates Mr. Bell had mentioned, but Aunt Viv wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted to socialize with the Bells and neither of them was brave enough to face them alone.
If they hurried, they should be able to make it to afternoon tea.
When they first arrived, Mrs. Bell had announced that afternoon tea was served promptly at 4 p.m., which was exactly in fifteen minutes’ time, according to the mantel clock.
The finely dressed lady gave no indication whether or not she’d be willing to wait for late arrivals or if they would be turned away.
Were Mia and her aunt invited to every tea service?
They weren’t exactly guests, but they weren’t exactly servants, either.
It didn’t help that it was Mia’s second time in a home this grand and she wasn’t well-versed on the expected etiquette. She was terrified of committing some kind of gaffe. She had Aunt Viv to guide her, but the older woman’s experience with high society was just as limited.
Again, Mia considered escaping to the library. If it was really as badly organized as Mr. Bell had suggested, it could take weeks to find the book she was looking for. Then there was trying to sneak it away into her trunk…
The family most likely wouldn’t even notice. Technically, it hadn’t even been theirs to begin with.
Mia changed out of her traveling clothes into a light-blue chiffon dress that she hoped would suit. If she had to choose, she’d much rather be treated as something closer to a guest than a servant during their short stay.
*
Mia pried open another crate and waved away a cloud of dust. It was her fifth so far today with another three more scheduled to be brought into the library after lunch.
She had already begun organizing them into piles according to century.
So far, there was a clear pattern. Much of the books the Bells had collected had come from the sixteenth century—the very century in which the book she was looking for had been written.
She felt herself getting closer. Every spine she examined had her heart pounding.
The books in this crate looked just as old.
Soon, she’d have to start categorizing by topic.
A soft knock distracted her. At the open doorway in front of her stood Mr. Bell.
His eyes widened at the scattered piles of books.
“I thought you were supposed to be organizing. Not making a mess of things.”
“Deep cleaning, I’ve found, always requires more mess.” Mia picked a book up out of the crate, her eyes staring at the spine and seeing nothing. What would a man like Mr. Bell know about cleaning, anyway? Did he even blow his own nose?
She sniffed.
“What?” He waltzed in, smiling. “See anything good? A book worth a thousand pounds, I’d like to hope.”
So he could spend it on a rare barrel of whiskey?
She shook her head, trying to erase the thought.
She shouldn’t think these kinds of thoughts.
She was the type who always displayed her feelings on her face.
She was never the kind to wear a mask like those in society.
She didn’t know how to. It was a trait that seemed unique to England.
Even if she was half-English, she hadn’t been lucky enough to inherit the skill.
“Where is your aunt?” Mr. Bell asked.
“In search of something far more entertaining than this.”
“Do you require any assistance?” Max wove his way around the piles of books.
“Thank you, but I have someone bringing in another set of crates this afternoon.”
“I’m good for more than just my brawn, I’ll have you know. I told you I’ve read a great many of these books.”
“Truly?” Mia stilled in her work, wondering if he was still just trying to impress. The picture of him that society had painted was a man who loved to do nothing but drink and hunt. Sometimes at the same time.
“What have you read?”
“Mostly novels. Victor Hugo is a favorite of mine.”
“Me too. Have you tried Mary Shelley?”
“I haven’t. Would you recommend her?”
“Oh, yes. Her first novel won’t be like anything else you’ve ever read, I can assure you of that.”
“It’s that unusual?”
She nodded.
“The books here are unusual too,” he said. “In fact, I should warn you that many may not be suited for a lady’s eyes.”
“Erotica?”
He reddened and cleared his throat. “No, I mean things of a darker nature. Things that have to do with old Pagan beliefs. That is, the supernatural. That some might say go against Christian values.”
Mia shrugged. “It’s a common enough subject in today’s society. Even my aunt has attended a seance or two.”
“That may be the case for your aunt, but amongst high society…it can be frowned upon.”
“Would you like me to put those books in a special pile? Of course you’ll have my discretion…”
Was that what he was worried about?
“It isn’t something that interests you, is it?” The way Mr. Bell looked at her, Mia suddenly understood why he had escaped the ballroom and followed her into the hall. She couldn’t hide behind the excuse that he’d thought she had been stealing. Not anymore.
He was attracted to her. She could see it in the way he searched her face.
He was looking for something. She just didn’t know what.
Whatever it was, she couldn’t let it distract her.
Though with his charm and good looks, that felt extremely difficult, if not impossible.
She just hoped he could take no for an answer.
If pressed, she couldn’t be entirely sure if she’d resist.
Of course, it could never lead anywhere. He’d never marry someone of her class. Marriage was far from her mind these days, anyway. No matter how many times Aunt Viv tried to bring it up.
“Well?” He pressed. “Does the topic interest you at all?”
Mia shrugged. “Sure. I never shy away from any topic if there’s something to be learned from it. Lucky for me, I don’t have to abide by the same rules that you do.”
“Indeed. You are lucky in that regard.”