Chapter 4 Kitty #2
Edward slanted me a wry look and began scanning the shelves in silence, his posture taut. “I’ll ask the clerk if your volume has arrived. Stay put, please.”
As soon as he left my side, the door to the bookstore opened, and the brass bell above tinkled merrily.
The same voices from outside boomed at the entrance.
I froze as a pair of gleaming top hats along with a feathered turban bobbed among the aisles, advancing with purpose.
I edged toward the ladder, hoping they would head toward the poetry section or some lurid novels.
“I swear the resemblance is uncanny. She looks like him. Fairer, perhaps. Do you think she might be his sister?” An unfamiliar male voice drifted over the bookcases.
My hand reached up to touch my bonnet again. Those cursed pink feathers perched on top must be waving like a cheerful banner. I must retire this bonnet or see it consigned to the flames.
“Good heavens—her eyes! Have you ever seen such eyes and mouth?”
“I fear I was distracted. Quite the pocket Venus. Please, Chudley, grant me some introduction with that exquisite creature.”
“Me? I’ve never seen her before. But I shan’t forget those features either.”
“Gentlemen, please. It is as if I or any other woman has ceased to exist,” piped in an irritated feminine voice.
Laughter followed at the piqued declaration. “Dearest sister, who could ever forget you?”
My mouth dried at the blatant flattery, despite the female ire. Surely the men did not reference me.
The three of them rounded the corner of the nearest shelf and halted when they spotted me standing by the ladder.
A Grenville never retreats at the first sign of danger. I squared my shoulders, just as the Iron Colonel would have done.
The nearest man with the golden curls paused when he spied me.
“I hope you don’t mind, miss, but my friend and I were discussing the season’s incomparable, Lady Elise Gregory, and then you strolled about the promenade with your escort, Mr. Grenville.
I assume he’s your brother? He and I go way back.
Perhaps he’ll allow us to introduce ourselves. ”
How forward! Demanding an introduction in such a manner.
“I do mind. Your impertinence deserves a good boxing of the ears,” I said, channeling the colonel’s most frigid glare.
The woman, her silk turban a raspberry hue, narrowed her eyes as if judging my outfit and finding it wanting. But the younger man with a pug nose and round cheeks coughed into a gloved hand. I swore he hid a laugh.
“We meant no offense, miss, and you may box my ears if you like.”
“Don’t be absurd.” I spun on my heel toward the crimson curtain hiding the back of the bookstore, determined to find Edward as soon as possible. As if hearing my silent plea, he stepped around the shelf with a book in hand and paused at the sight of the two men and the lady accompanying them.
“Edward, as I live and breathe! How good to see you at last! Surely you remember me from a year ago at Cambridge,” the blond man exclaimed.
“Lord Chudley. How could I forget?”
Edward’s smile transformed his normally impassive face. Confusion flashed through me, for I had received the distinct impression that Edward had earlier wanted to hide me. He handed me the Herschel volume I sought, then gestured to the group beside him.
“May I present the Earl of Halewood,” he said with a respectful nod toward Lord Chudley. “And this is his sister, Lady Anne Chudley, and Mr. Richard Statton.”
I dipped into an awkward curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord. Lady Anne, Mr. Statton.”
Lord Chudley’s eyes glinted as he offered a bow. “Likewise, Miss Grenville.”
The pug-nosed dandy grinned at me as he doffed his beaver hat. “Charmed to make your acquaintance.”
Lord Chudley clutched his walking stick, which had more the appearance of fashion than need. “You must forgive our manners. We were utterly smitten by the resemblance of this young lady by your side.”
I clutched my book, curious as to my brother’s change of demeanor.
With a plastered smile, Edward put a hand on my arm and hesitated before turning to the dandies. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Katherine Grenville.”
“Shall we see you during the London season?” Mr. Statton interjected, his cheeks flushed rosy.
My heart fluttered at the interest in both men’s eyes—a far cry from the frigid welcome Edward had described receiving at Eton, and later, Cambridge.
“I believe I shall enjoy what I can.”
Edward’s fingers tightened on my arm ever so gently in warning. If only I knew what he was trying to warn me about.
My brother had grown guarded over the years—no doubt shaped by the whispered slights and too-curious stares he’d endured from those who questioned his heritage.
“Are you reading Herschel’s work?” Lord Chudley gestured toward the volume in my hands, offering a lopsided smile. His eyes were startlingly blue. “His treatise on meteors and stellar motion is remarkable. I’ve visited the man’s observatory in Slough. A truly inspiring place.”
“You enjoy astronomy?” I said, intrigued to meet someone else who shared my interests.
“Oh, not in any formal capacity. I’m no mathematician,” he admitted. “But science does hold a certain fascination.”
Lady Anne wrinkled her nose. “Such tedious reading, Miss Grenville. I cannot imagine what I would do with a book that size! I much prefer the pianoforte. Do you play?”
“Tolerably,” I replied, with a polite smile. “But I prefer the sciences to the arts.”
She blinked as though I had spoken in Greek.
Before I could pursue the conversation further, Edward nudged me firmly toward the counter, where the clerk waited with an expectant glance. Loath to follow, I hesitated a moment before obeying, just as Lord Chudley and his companions stepped aside.
“Have you met the Herschel family?” Lord Chudley asked, perhaps sensing my reluctance to leave.
“I had hoped to meet them in person.” My feet seemed firmly pinned to the floor as Edward now reached for my arm.
The earl gave a polite bow. “Then may your wish be fulfilled this season. I hope we meet again, Miss Grenville.”
Edward offered a courteous smile that held no invitation. “We are expected at another appointment. Good day, my lord, Lady Anne, Mr. Statton.”
I followed Edward to the counter, where he passed a coin to the clerk and collected the book.
Without further delay, he opened the shop door and gestured for me to follow. I hesitated for a heartbeat, aware of the earl’s lingering gaze, then stepped into the bright street.
We had barely crossed the threshold when Mr. Statton’s voice followed. “Oh, Mr. Grenville, one more moment if you will!”
Another low curse left Edward as he stepped away from my side. Regardless, his tight smile stretched wide.
Clutching my new book, I studied the embossed cover, my thoughts tangled from all that had just occurred. Edward’s stiff manner, Lord Chudley’s unexpected charm, and the pointed attention of Mr. Statton.
I barely noticed the sounds of London clamoring all around: hoofbeats, hawkers, a distant church bell. My fingers traced the ridges along the spine as I tried to collect my composure while I waited. Edward remained in the shop’s doorway, a wall between me and the gentlemen.
Why must he act so overbearingly protective? His companions were not the ogres I first assumed.
As if the day weren’t complicated enough with that ridiculous dinner planned for this evening. I despised how my every step seemed orchestrated, including this upcoming marriage.
My grip tightened on the book. I was determined to be late for said dinner.
Lord Chudley glanced back in my direction and smiled, and something about the way his gaze settled on me left a flutter in my stomach. I pivoted, suddenly aware of how warm my cheeks had grown at being caught staring.
If this was flirting . . .
Even so, I couldn’t help but smile in return as I waited at the edge of the street.
The clatter of hooves and the roar of wheels snapped me back to reality. A shout echoed.
“Miss, watch out!”
Before I could react, a hard arm hooked around my waist and yanked me back as a black carriage thundered past, missing my nose by mere inches. I gasped, my heart leaping into my throat as a man spun me around and caught me in his steady grip.
To my horror, my book slipped out of my grasp and tumbled into the mucky street where other carriages and wagons rattled, oblivious to the near accident.
“Sir! Release me at once! My book fell in the street.”
“Ladies first. Books second,” the stranger answered as he set me on the pavement running outside the bookstore.
“Good heavens, I just purchased the latest copy of Herschel’s catalogue and now it will be—Oh!” I covered my mouth in horror as a barouche raced past, the young buck driving it laughing wildly. Mud sprayed as the wheels hit all the puddles collecting at the edge of the street.
“One moment.” With long-legged steps, my rescuer reached for the book, which had landed in such a way that the covers provided some protection against the elements. He picked it up and whipped out a white handkerchief and mopped at it, his frown only deepening.
“I fear I am making matters worse,” he admitted ruefully as he returned to my side. “Are all Englishmen such fiendish drivers that they would run over a lady?”