.
Rachel trailed her finger over the bindings on the shelf, and was nearly startled when someone approached.
“Shall I take that one down for you, my lady?” The young gentleman smiled at her, and though Rachel had not a clue who he was, she thought his expression cordial.
She settled herself and realized she should have been prepared for the attention. She’d been receiving callers for days, all of them she’d found out to have been arranged through Aunt Esther. In the end, it left Rachel little time to herself. But recalling the slightly hidden alcove in her garden, Rachel decided to find a book that she could take with her, during a much needed respite from company. Now, all she needed was the right book.
Rose had promised the Montgomery Circulating Library would be quite empty before noon, so Rachel had come in the hopes of having a little time alone. She’d not even worn her mother’s headdress, the thing that worked like a charm to give her the confidence she needed to handle the public.
But that was never the case, for the morning Sir Walter Scott’s latest book was released. The Antiquary had drawn quite the crowd, and many in that crowd were male.
The library held three floors, with a spiraling staircase that wrapped around the sides of the building, and nearly every inch of it was full.
Upon entering, she’d quickly grabbed whatever book she found first, and took a chair in the sitting area on the first floor, flipping through the pages with no true interest.
But the lords, those she’d refused to dance with over the last few years, those titled gentlemen who thought themselves perfect for her, nearly hovered, as if waiting for the moment she would put the book down so that they could launch themselves at her.
She’d gripped her book nervously, and her stomach had tightened. Then five minutes later, the first gentleman had bravely broken from the pack, and she’d been continuously interrupted ever since.
She tried to keep her ire from her words as she spoke her latest suitor. “Thank you, Mr.…”
“Mr. Peter Dale, eldest son of Viscount Endicott.” He bowed deeply, his smile still in place when he rose. Then he took the book off the shelf and held it out to her.
She bent her head to him and found that he was a rather attractive man. He was likely around her age, which she could imagine Reuben approving of— not that Reuben’s opinion mattered to her in the least.
She was quite past her fancy for Reuben. Two days had passed since she’d seen him, and she only thought of him every other hour or so.
Progress at its finest. By Season’s end, she was sure her heart would be ready to turn to someone else. Perhaps even a man like Mr. Dale.
Yet, at the moment, she found his presence bothersome.
“Erm, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Dale, but I don’t want that book. In truth, I have no interest in…“ She leaned over to gaze at the title. “The History of Insects.” She smiled, bowed again, then turned. “Good day.” She barely made it to the other end of the shelf before someone else cut before her.
“Lady Rachel, what a surprise to see you here.” Lord Fosse, who happened to be a man she did know well, for it always seemed like he and her father were at odds, took her hand and bowed over it. He was around her father’s age. Gray and large, but she could tell by his face that at one time, he’d been a very handsome man. He also smiled often. “You are looking more and more like your mother every day. I see you’re not wearing the headdress.” His dark eyes went there, as if to inspect again.
Rachel held back her sigh of frustration and put on a smile. “Lord Fosse, how lovely to see you, but don’t let me take up your time. I’m simply here to select a book.” Alone.
Fosse didn’t return her hand. Instead, he slipped it into the fold of his arm as he straightened. “My lady, allow me to aid you on your quest for education through literature. Your mother enjoyed such readings, our dear Florentia.”
She pressed together a smile. It had been this way since she’d first made her reintroduction into society. She could go nowhere in public without someone wishing to breathe her air. She silently told herself that next year she’d wear widow’s weeds, as she stared up at the Earl of Fosse. “Actually, I was looking for a pleasure read.” She tried extracting her hand again. “So, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Ah, pleasure reading. Yes. Why would a lady need to educate herself past those things her delicate mind can handle? It seems you’re even better than Florentia. Yes.” She didn’t like the man’s referenced to her mother, or the fact that he called her by her given name. It was too intimate.
Fosse started them in a direction, and Rachel understood Reuben’s comment about her always dragging him where she wished him to go.
Had he ever felt the way she felt now? Agitated? The need for escape?
She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him, she told her mind, not listening to a word Lord Fosse was saying.
Rose’s voice rose as she approached, and even in pale gray silks, which was how she dressed whenever she came to oversee the library her father had entrusted to her, Rachel thought she looked like an angel. “Lady Rachel, I found that book you were looking for.” Then Rose lifted her eyes to Lord Fosse. “Oh, hello, sir. If you need any assistance, Mr. Tash can help you.”
A Mr. Tash stepped out from behind the countess, and bowed.
Rose took Rachel’s hand. ‘This way, my lady.”
Lord Fosse seemed struck mute by everything that was happened, and Rachel was finally released.
She clutched Rose’s arm as she was taken away. ‘Thank you.”
Rose walked with a purpose, her pale blue eyes set away from the crowd, making everyone second guess approaching her, in the hopes of getting near Rachel. She may have started life as a no one’s get, but she’d be ending it as the Duchess of Avon.
She walked Rachel over to the counter, were a few of the usual workers attended to the library’s subscribers on the other side. It was an area limited to only those that worked there, meaning no one would reach Rachel here.
She opened a door and showed Rachel into a small, and quite cluttered, office. Papers and books were skewed, covering the chairs and tables. The room was dark, with an exposed brick wall and a small open window that had the view of an alleyway. The sounds of the crowded streets could be heard, and gray light fell through the small opening, adding to the only lantern that sat on the single bookcase.
“Pardon the mess,” Rose grabbed pages from one of the chairs, and put them on the desk. “More than one of the clerks has offered to organize the space, but I told them I rather do it myself. It just seems that finding Emma has given me less time here.”
Rachel took the seat once it was clear, finding it quite comfortable. The space was small, but pleasant. “How is your sister Emma?”
“Well enough, considering that only months ago, she’d been nothing more than a captain’s wife, and now she’s been approached by more than one paper who wishes to publish her every thought.”
Rachel could understand the feeling, but had already decided there was no going back to her usual way of life. She’d simply have to be more assertive about her time and space.
Rose cleaned the chair at Rachel’s side, and then took it, with a laugh. “You chose the worst day to come, if you hoped to be alone.”
“I see that now.” Rachel bit her lip.
Rose grabbed her hands. “And you look marvelous, by the way. I’ve not had time to compliment you on your new appearance. You’ve a becoming neckline. It makes you look rather tall.”
Rachel smiled. “Do you think so?”
“Indeed.” Rose looked up when the door opened.
“Lady Davis is here,” a woman in the staple black of an employee, said.
Rose smiled her thanks and then stood. “I’ve a book for you,” she said to Rachel. “Let me attend Lady Davis, and then I will return.”
When she was gone, Rachel took a breath, and then another. She was finally alone.
Another knock startled her, and she calmed herself before bidding the person to enter.
She expected her lady’s maid or Aunt Esther. Both had disappeared upstairs, Lucille volunteering to help her aunt find books on needlework.
It was neither Lucille or Aunt Esther who entered.
It was Reuben, and Rachel’s eyes took him in with great greed. Her senses had missed him.
He closed the door behind him, casually crossed the room and took the seat opposite her. She caught the scent of his woodsy cologne and his smile made her mute.
His height caused his knees to brush hers, and Rachel immediately started, as she shot to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
He stood as well, crowding her, even if it wasn’t his intention. “I forget. I seem to do that often, when you’re around.”
Her chest squeezed. “Well then, let me help you remember. You kissed me...”
His eyes darkened as they moved to her lips. “I’ll never forget that.”
“Then you ran from me like the very devil were on your heels.”
His gaze rose to hers again. “A mistake I regret.”
She pursed her lips, and his eyes went there again.
Then he smiled. “Oh, I recall why I came, Rose mentioned you may be interested in this book, and asked me to bring it to you.” He readily held the book in his hand that she’d not noticed when he’d entered.
Rachel moved around the chair and held her hand out. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Well, you have my thanks, my lord, and please give it to Rose as well, on your way out.”
Reuben didn’t take the bait. And neither did he relinquish the book to her. Instead, he sat, and Rachel found his expression hard to read. He stared at her as though he could do so all day, and yet something else played under the surface. She could feel it. Was it hesitation?
It didn’t matter. She needed to be rid of him, no matter what it took.