Six
“Here’s a perfect reading nook, girls.”
Aramintawaited until the twins had gingerly settled into the overstuffed burgundy armchairs with their borrowed books before placing their hot chocolates and napkins on the rosewood side table between the tufted chairs.
Thoughthey were ten years of age, Araminta wasn’t comfortable leaving her sisters alone all day, so she had brought them with her.
SirWaddlesby had tried to accompany her too, the poor thing.
Hemissed her.
Asshe herded him into his pen earlier, she’d promised him a pleasant cuddle tonight and a long walk tomorrow morning.
Thethings she did for that silly goose.
Hehad objected, and loudly too, his distressed honks gradually turning into sad chirpings. Never had he endured such regular confinement. Pity for his plight cramped Araminta’s chest.
Callidoraventured a sip of her chocolate. “’Tis delicious.”
Aramintahad acquiesced to the twins’ pleas for the sweet beverage, an indulgence she could ill afford. However, the girls would spend the next several hours in the store. It didn’t seem right not to purchase something, even though the coffeehouse hadn’t officially opened.
Dariushad finished his final preparations last week and quietly started permitting patrons to peruse the shelves, make purchases, and order coffee and dainties. The store had seen regular traffic too, despite not formally being open.
Fivecrates of books had arrived a couple of days ago, surprising Araminta, who thought she too was prepared. The crates contained gifts for the library from Darius’s parents. Not that she wasn’t grateful for the unexpected bounty—naturally, she was.
Althoughthe Duke and Duchess of Latham’s generosity quite delighted her, it also added strain to her already over-burdened schedule. It meant additional hours of work cataloging the recent additions, preparing bookplates, and rearranging the shelves she’d already readied. It also meant she had needed to ask Darius for additional shelf space. He could hardly refuse, given his parents’ munificence.
Notthat he had appeared the least churlish or belligerent. In truth, he’d been nothing but accommodating and kind. So much so that Araminta’s doubts about his willingness to help launch Woodhaven’s library had evaporated.
Whenone spent as much time with someone as she had with Darius these past weeks, one either grew to admire or dislike a person.
Sheassuredly did not dislike his lordship.
No, she’d discovered a kind, generous man with a delightful sense of humor and estimable moral character. Combined with his dashing good looks, even she, a reverend’s pious daughter who rarely ever looked at a man twice, took extra care with her appearance.
You are a foolish twit, AramintaLiliannaEmmaWeldon.
He is not for you.
Notif EudoraClarke had her way.
Ifonly Darius knew the real Eudora. The petty, mean, vindictive girl who flirted and teased and then tossed men aside when someone richer and more influential showed an interest.
Howcould Araminta compete with Eudora’s elegant beauty and petite perfection? Not to mention her beautiful gowns and perfectly styled hair?
Itwould be best to put aside her growing fascination with the handsome lord.
Fareasier said than done. Spending hours and hours with him over the past weeks had allowed a tiny sprout of attraction to take root and blossom into full-blown captivation.
Notthat Darius would ever know.
Afterall, if Araminta could hide her secret identity from her father, she could certainly subdue her emotions for the charming bookshop owner. Mayhap if she told herself that often enough and long enough, she’d convince herself the tarradiddle was the truth.
And fairies clean the pews each Sunday after Papa’s sermon.
Theidea of Eudora sinking her talons into Darius, winning him over with her false smiles and contrived demureness, made Araminta physically ill.
Hedeserved better.
Hedeserved to know the truth.
Tampingdown a sigh, she summoned a smile.
“Take care not to spill chocolate on yourselves, the books, or the furniture, please,” Araminta gently admonished her sisters. The last thing she needed was for the twins to ruin something before the store opened.
Papahad departed for London last evening and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow night, so Araminta had seized the opportunity to finish setting up the library.
Papa’strip had been a godsend.
Shecould spend all day in the bookshop.
She’dalso brought luncheon today, alleviating the need to return to the parsonage for the midday meal.
Laurellacaught her tongue between her teeth as she ever-so-carefully lifted the cup and took a hesitant sip. She grinned. “I feel like a grand lady, Minnie.”
“And so, you should.” Araminta patted her sister’s slender shoulder. “Just remember to behave as such.”
Araminta’sname had been too much of a mouthful for her baby sisters, and Laurella had shortened it to Minnie when she’d begun talking. Usually, one to take her cues from her bolder twin sister, Callidora, had followed suit.
Thenickname had stuck.
Callidorabrushed her fingertips over the smooth leather-bound cover of the SwissFamilyRobinson. “Donating so many books was most generous of the Duke and Duchess of Latham. I could scarcely choose which story to read.”
“Me too.” Laurella nodded eagerly. “WhenI finish Gulliver’sTravels, I shall read your book.”
“We’ll have to make sure no one else has requested it first,” Araminta reminded her. “There is a waiting list, and we cannot be selfish.”
Although, truth to tell, when she’d spied a copy of NorthangerAbby, she‘d snatched the book for herself and read it in one night, so tantalizing had it been. However, she made a point to return it the very next day.
Herroyalties for MissWimple’sMarvelousAdventures still hadn’t arrived, which meant she’d had to take on more embroidery work—primarily gloves and linens. While she couldn’t help but feel proud of her ability to create lovely treasures for others, it proved disheartening that she could not afford the same for herself, given the considerable cost of silk embroidery thread.
“I’m trusting you to be on your best behavior, darlings.” Araminta gave the twins an encouraging smile. “I’ll be just around the corner in the library section.”
Sheturned and encountered the spinster Mulbury sisters, Garnet and Opal, seated at a nearby table with cups of steaming tea and a stack of books covered in brown paper and tied with a string between them. Although shrunken and wrinkled with age, the sisters beamed impishly at Araminta.
“LordDarius’s book selection is most accommodating.” Garnet’s voice quavered and crackled like old parchment paper. “I’m quite beside myself with anticipation.”
“You’ve also collected quite an impressive selection of books to lend, Araminta.” A trifle hard of hearing, Opal spoke loudly, her voice carrying to the room’s far corners and causing the twins to glance up from their books for an instant. “Well done, you.”
“Indeed,” echoed Garnet. “Well done. You should be proud.”
“Thank you, ladies.”
Garnetsent Opal a mischievous glance.
“I imagine it’s not too difficult managing the library when you have the company of such handsome lords.” Garnet blinked innocently. “I believe LordDarius and LordCassius are both unattached. Are they not?”
Sheknew full well that they were.
Truthbe told, everyone in Woodhaven knew, so what was MissGarnet up to, the sly old bird?
“Hmph.” Opal sniffed as she lifted her teacup, then practically bellowed, “ThatClarke chit has set her cap for LordDarius, poor chap. If he’s smart, he’ll run for the hills. That one will never be content as a bookseller’s wife.”
Neverhad a more truthful statement been made.
“Wasn’t it just a few months ago,” Opal continued, “that the twit set her hat for SirElroyNeedleman over in Keswick, and everyone had awaited the toll of wedding bells? ThenLordDarius came along, and she discarded poor SirElroy with as much care and consideration as rancid tallow.”
Oneof Araminta’s sisters giggled.
Aramintacast a furtive glance around. Thank goodness, other than her sisters and Mr. Sherman, no one else heard the dear woman’s comments.
Thougha budding smile made his mustache twitch, Mr. Sherman—the epitome of discretion—continued placing cups and saucers on a shelf.
“Fiddle faddle and flimflam.” Garnet waved her blue-veined hand as if shooing a pesky fly away. “Her mother will never permit a match between LordDarius and the spoiled chit. Gertrude’s aspirations for her daughter are far loftier, even if LordDarius is a duke’s son.”
Nosmall truth there.
PoorDarius.
Eudora’sgreedy, society-climbing mama—might well prevent the match. It wasn’t uncommon, even if the situation was unjust and untenable. Though truth be told, Mrs. Clarke generally acquiesced to her daughter’s demands, so if Eudora had her heart set on Darius, there was a slim chance she would prevail. But then, wouldn’t she be a constant presence at the bookshop where Darius spent his days?
Thenwhy hadn’t the self-centered wretch visited the bookstore more frequently?
Ithad been at least three weeks since she’d put in an appearance—since that day Darius had waltzed Araminta round the library. That didn’t mean, of course, that Darius wasn’t seeing Eudora elsewhere. Still, one would think if she were hell-bent on marrying Darius, she’d find any excuse to be with him.
Hedidn’t appear to be pining over Eudora, but men didn’t wear their emotions on their sleeves. He might well be languishing over her.
Overthe past few weeks, Araminta had grown to regard him with something far more powerful and potent than simple appreciation or attraction. Raw and fresh, she could barely acknowledge these feelings to herself, let alone speak of them aloud.
Garnetglanced around to ensure she wouldn’t be overheard and added, “From what I’ve observed of LordDarius, he’s too kind and decent for that shallow, vain, empty-headed nincompoop. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Eudora read anything more challenging than an invitation to a ball, let alone a book.”
Cometo think of it, Araminta had never seen Eudora read anything either.
“No,” MissOpal agreed with a vigorous shake of her silvery head, causing her bonnet’s profusion of orange and yellow silk flowers to bob and sway as if buffeted by a spring breeze. “His lordship needs a woman who loves books as much as he does.”
Theelderly matchmaking dears stared at Araminta, their watery, faded blue gazes not the least repentant about their bold insinuation. They might as well have shouted, Someone like you.
Quite impossible.
Isn’t it?