Chapter Ten
David awoke early, a habit from his army days.
It helped to do so now, since he had to do for himself before he reached his shop each morning.
Quickly, he made his bed and lit a small fire, putting on water to boil.
He had learned after a day in his cottage to already have a pail of water brought inside the night before, rather than having to walk to the nearby well to fill it early each morning.
He did not bother to build a large fire, though one would have been welcomed, the cottage being chilled.
That was a luxury which he did not need in the mornings since he did not stay in the cottage for long.
He did just enough to heat water for his tea, and doused it immediately afterward.
Mentally, he went through what his day would entail. He was starting to get new goods in, changing the placement of items in the shop, trying to hit upon the right arrangement. Since the books from the duke’s townhouse had yet to arrive, he hoped today would be the day they did so.
Which might mean a visit from Lady Justina.
He had not seen her for a few days. When alone, he constantly thought about the kisses he had shared with her. Though inexperienced, she was full of fire and passion, and she had caught on quickly to the art of kissing. He only wished their time together had not been cut short.
David was not sure exactly what he wanted from her.
Obviously, more kisses. But how far he was willing to coax her physically—and how far she was willing to go—might be two different things.
He had to remember that though he was a shopkeeper now, he was still a gentleman and the son of an earl.
She was a lady, not some strumpet to be toyed with.
Regret began to fill him, knowing she deserved far better than him.
He should tell her to save her kisses for the man she would wed, not some humble shopkeeper who had yet to turn a profit and might not for a good, long while.
He laid out his clothes on the bed and went downstairs.
The water now boiled, and he made tea for himself, portioning water for other uses.
He also toasted some bread, slathering it with peach jam, courtesy of His Grace’s cook.
His pantry had been stocked when he moved into the cottage, and Cook had twice sent evening meals to him, for which he was grateful.
He hadn’t any idea about cooking, beyond how to toast bread, and that was only because he and Maman used to do so together late at night when he was hungry for a snack before bed.
The tea now steeped sufficiently, he took the cup and a plate with the toast upstairs, washing and shaving with some of the extra hot water, then eating as he dressed.
It would have been far easier to remain in the duke’s household, but David was a proud man and wanted to do as much for himself as possible.
He took the basin of used water and his dishes downstairs, washing the cup and plate and dumping the water outside the door.
Perhaps he might plant a few flowers in front of the cottage come the spring, giving his new home a more warm, friendly feel.
Of course, he hadn’t a notion of what to plant, much less how to nurture it.
Perhaps Justina might be able to give him some gardening tips.
David cursed under his breath. Why did every thought seem to revolve around her?
It had been a mistake to kiss her. He understood that now. He was in no position to woo an earl’s daughter, much less provide a proper home for her. Somehow, he must convince her that nothing more could occur between them.
And convince himself, as well.
Locking the cottage, he set out for Kidsgrove.
While His Grace’s residence was a good three miles from the village, David’s cottage was on the far edges of Norwood, making him closer to two miles to the center of shops lining the only thoroughfare.
The end of this third week of October was definitely cool.
He would need to add coal to the stove and light it to warm the shop today.
He figured a warmer customer would be a happier one, and they would be willing to spend more.
It took him just under half an hour to reach his place of business, which had no name.
That was something he needed to work on, and then he could order signage from the local blacksmith once he had a name.
He also wanted a sign for indoors, indicating for customers to go up the stairs to the bookshop on the upper level.
Once again, he thought he could toss about ideas with Lady Justina and then decided that would not be wise.
Already, they were too close, especially after those searing kisses.
He was due to dine at Norwood this evening, so he would ask at dinner tonight for ideas from his dining companions.
David unlocked the doors and went inside, locking them behind him so that no one would enter until opening hours.
First, he went to the back and retrieved a shovel of coal, lit the stove, and warmed his hands before it for a few moments.
He went about his usual routine, setting out his ledgers to record goods sold, and sorting and stacking anything which was out of place.
While most customers were good about placing something back where it belonged if they decided not to purchase it, a few were careless.
He liked neat, tidy shelves, so that all merchandise could be seen at a glance.
Though a few of his customers continued bartering for goods, the majority took their purchases with them, along with an itemized bill of sale he provided to them.
He recorded the amounts owed to him in his ledger and would collect what was owed to him at the end of each month.
He only hoped everyone would make their payments in full.
Mr. Shaft had advised him to open a bank account in Keswick, which was the nearest city with access to a bank.
He had done so during the sale of the shop, and he would ride to Keswick once a month to deposit the funds he collected, as well as pick up any items he needed.
Shaft bought many of his goods there and brought them back by wagon to Kidsgrove.
The shopkeeper had not owned a wagon or horse.
Instead, he rented them from the local stables, run by Mr. Gerry, who also served as Kidsgrove’s blacksmith.
He would go and see Gerry soon and see if that arrangement could remain in place.
He also might need to rent a horse and wagon if a customer bought more than they could carry and he needed to deliver it.
Satisfied that all was in order now, he went to the front doors and unlocked them, turning the sign that notified others the shop was open and welcoming them to enter.
Five minutes later, he had his first customer. Mrs. Penny was the village’s dressmaker, while her husband was the local shoemaker. The couple shared space in the same shop a stone’s throw from him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Penny. How are you today?” he asked.
He had thought it important to meet his fellow merchants and had done so, going from shop to shop, introducing himself and learning their names. For the most part, they seemed a friendly lot, especially Mr. Burrows, who had made up some new clothes for David after his return from war.
“And a good morning to you, Mr. Rochester,” the woman replied, setting three sacks on the counter. “I’m here to do a bit of shopping before I open my own shop for the day.”
She had him retrieve sugar, flour, and coffee for her as she collected tooth powder and candy.
“Just in case you want to know, the candy is not for me. I despise anything sweet, but Mr. Penny is fond of his candy. If he doesn’t have a peppermint each day, he says a day is not worth living.”
David recorded her purchases and told her he would bring the sacks of what he called the essentials down to her shop for her.
“I appreciate that, Mr. Rochester. While I liked Mr. Shaft, he was never willing to go the extra mile, as you do.”
He accompanied Mrs. Penny, taking the sacks and storing them in the back where she fitted customers.
He took a minute to speak briefly to Mr. Penny and then headed back to his own shop.
As he reached it, a wagon turned the corner, and he recognized the driver as the butler’s cousin.
His books from the Duke of Norville’s library had arrived, bringing relief to him.
The driver stopped in front of his shop, climbing from the bench, along with a second man.
“Good day, Mr. Rochester,” the driver said. “We are finally in Cumberland with your books. Good thing we covered ’em with a tarp. We had rain at Cambridge and another heavy downpour at Aberford.”
“Did you check the crates?” he asked, worried about leakage.
“Everything is fine. The crates are solid, and the tarp added additional protection. Shall we bring the crates inside?”
“Let us try one. I believe there is room to get it up the stairs. If that is the case, you may bring all of them upstairs, and I will open them myself.”
He waited anxiously as the tarp was removed and then the first crate taken from the wagon’s bed. Holding the door open for the pair, he motioned them inside. They went up the stairs without a problem, and he instructed them to stack the crate in a far corner.
“Bring all of them inside and place them in this area. Stack them if need be.”
A small crowd gathered as the men continued back and forth.
With pride, David told everyone that these were the first books for his bookshop.
He then explained how some books would be available for purchase, while others would be a part of the lending library.
He explained the small, monthly fee he would charge to become a member of the lending library, and Mrs. Johnson, the milliner, said she would definitely take advantage of that program.
“I don’t have much room for anything beyond myself and the materials I use to make my hats,” she explained. “But if I can take a book at a time, read and return it, and then claim another one, I won’t have to store any books.”
“That is exactly how it works, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Are you signing people up yet?” she asked eagerly.
Thinking to strike while the iron was hot and make the most of this opportunity, he replied, “You shall be the first on the lending library patron list.”
That caused her to beam. She glanced to the tailor. “Come on. You know you want to become a part of this, Mr. Burrows. You can stop reading the same three books you own. Why, if I read something I like, I will pass along the title to you.”
“That’s the spirit, Mrs. Johnson,” David said, hearing the approving murmurs from others. “Come inside and sign up.” Then inspiration hit him. “The first ten readers who do so will get their first month of reading for free.”
He definitely had the crowd on his side now, and several accompanied him inside. He retrieved a new ledger, one specifically earmarked for this purpose, and recorded the names of those who joined the lending library list, marking them all as paid.
Once they had all signed up, he said, “It will take me a couple of days before I can begin lending books. I will let you know when I start. And remember, I will have many more books coming from London in the near future.”
“When you said we get a free month, is that the month of November, Mr. Rochester?” Mr. Burrows asked.
“Well, October only has a little over ten days. I hope to have the bookshop up and running by this time next week.” He thought a moment. “If you earned the free month today, I think I can add any days left in October, as well.”
Mr. Burrows smiled. “A very good idea, Mr. Rochester.”
Those inside went back to their shops—or shopping—and he dashed off a quick note to Justina, telling her the first shipment of books had arrived. Walking across the street to the inn, which also served as the village’s pub, he found Mr. Winkler, the owner.
“Might your son be willing to deliver a note for me? It is to go to Traywick Manor.”
“Of course, Mr. Rochester.”
Winkler summoned his boy, and David handed over the letter. “This is to go to Lady Justina at Traywick Manor. Wait for a reply if she wishes to send one if you would. I will pay your father for you running this errand for me, but I also will let you choose a few candies once you return.”
“Yes, Mr. Rochester!” the boy cried, accepting the note and starting out on foot for Traywick Manor.
By now, the crates had all been delivered and taken upstairs. The men had been paid for the first part of their journey, and he told them to go across the street and have a large meal at his expense.
“Once you have filled your bellies, return here and I will pay you for your return to town.”
Though he was eager to head upstairs and begin going through the books, he needed to stay and wait on customers.
He had a steady stream of them, and all of them wished to talk about the opening of the lending library and bookshop next week.
He was thankful for word of mouth and knew he would not have to do any kind of advertising.
Over an hour later, the boy returned with a response from Justina. He allowed the lad to choose three sweets, and he took two chocolate drops and a prawlin.
“Thank you, Mr. Rochester,” the boy told him as he left the shop. “Any more notes you need delivered, I’m happy to do so.”
Now that he was alone, he broke the seal on the note Justina had sent.
Dear Mr. Rochester –
Thank you for letting me know that your books from the duke’s library in London have arrived. I will be in the village tomorrow morning bright and early in order to see everything and decide on a system of how to organize your volumes. I hope that is acceptable to you.
I would also like to share with you a few ideas I have regarding your lending library.
Until tomorrow,
Lady Justina Fulton
David brushed his thumb over her signature, wishing it traveled across her plump bottom lip instead.
He shook his head, trying to dispel that notion, which only made it all the harder to forget.
He would need to make clear to her that while they could remain friends, no more kisses would be exchanged between them.
If she chose not to assist him after he made that clear, so be it.
But he would still count the hours until he saw her tomorrow morning.