A man came out of the shop, tucking a newly purchased newspaper under his arm. He nodded to Douglas as he passed. It brought Douglas’s mind back to why he was here. There were perhaps less than five minutes before the shop closed, so he needed to hurry.
He went inside and headed straight for the book. But when he arrived at the shelf where he was sure it had been located, he couldn’t find it. He thoroughly checked the shelf again, as well as those around it, but the book was gone.
The shopkeeper approached him. “May I help you find something, sir?”
“Yes, thank you.” He pointed toward the bookshelf. “When I was in the shop earlier this evening, I saw a book on this shelf. I’ve come back to buy it, but now I don’t see it.”
“I’d be happy to help you locate it. Do you remember the title or the author?”
“Yes, it was—” He paused, embarrassed. “That is, I believe the title was The Spinster’s Guide to Romance, or something similar.”
He waited for her reaction, expecting perhaps a smirk or grin of amusement. At the very least, she’d have to wonder why he wanted to read such a book.
However, she merely nodded and said pleasantly, “I know the book you’re speaking of. However, I’m afraid it has been sold. I’m sorry I haven’t another one to offer you.”
Sold already! Douglas had been gone only half an hour. He shook his head in amazement. “I expect books like that are very popular—especially with the ladies?”
“Oh yes, sir.”
“Such as the lady who bought it tonight?” He cast his mind back to the book Alice McNeil had been holding. Although wrapped in brown paper, he thought it had been about the same size as the spinster book. Perhaps that was why she looked uncomfortable. She’d been determined to point out that she read serious books and hadn’t wanted to tell him about the one she held in her hands. “The lady who was in here just a few minutes ago, for example?”
It was impertinent of him to ask, but curiosity had overtaken him. He held his breath, waiting for the shopkeeper’s answer.
“That’s the only lady we’ve had in the shop tonight, sir.”
A touch of amusement stole onto her face, making Douglas certain he was correct. Perhaps this shopkeeper was familiar with Alice’s reading habits. Was this out of the ordinary for her? Or was it entirely in keeping with her taste in books? Douglas couldn’t imagine that Alice McNeil was the kind of woman who would want to learn how to attract men. But then, there were a lot of things he didn’t know about women. That was precisely why he had wished to buy the book.
Another gentleman who’d been perusing a nearby shelf approached the shopkeeper with a book to buy. Douglas said good night and left.
As he walked home, he pondered the idea of a woman who clearly had a mechanical and scientific mind also buying something like the spinster book. It made her all the more interesting. In fact, if he hadn’t been so determined to woo someone of higher station, he might even have fancied her.
He wished he had been able to buy that book and read more of it.
CHAPTER
Six
Good morning, Miss McNeil.” Douglas caught up to Alice just as she was about to enter the Henley and Company building.
She had wondered if she would see him on the omnibus this morning, since they would both be coming from the same direction. She hadn’t seen him, though. He must have taken a different way in. She’d been glad for that, as she still felt uneasy about their meeting the night before. The last thing she needed was for him to discover she had bought the spinster book. On top of that, her brain still went gauzy when she looked at him. The vertigo she experienced in his presence was something she had to conquer—and quickly.
She took a steadying breath and murmured a greeting as he stepped ahead of her to reach for the door handle.
He held the door open for her. Forcing herself to look him full in the face, she gave him a nod of thanks as she passed through. Was there a twinkle in his eye? Or was she imagining it? He was definitely smiling. Alice’s impractical heart sped up, despite her determination to remain unmoved. Mavis probably would have swooned right there on the steps. She chuckled at the thought.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” Douglas observed. “Does that mean the book you bought last night was entertaining? What was it called? I never did catch the title.”
A bolt of panic shot through her. Alice abhorred lying, but her determination to keep her secret held greater sway. “An Elementary Treatise on Electricity by James Clerk Maxwell.”
That was as close to the truth as she could get. She had acquired that book recently from the same shop. Besides, she hadn’t actually read any of the spinster book last night. She was still mildly appalled at herself for even buying it. She had placed it on a side table and instead spent her evening reading the other book in order to feel that she’d at least accomplished something profitable.
Alice pulled the book from her bag. “I brought it with me today, in fact. I thought I might sit outside and read it during my midday break. It looks as though the weather will be nice today and not too hot.”
“You’re reading Maxwell’s work? How extraordinary.”
“This is a collection of his lectures. I can’t claim to understand all of it, but I do my best.”
Her modest reply didn’t seem to lower Mr. Shaw’s opinion. He was still looking at her with undisguised admiration. This was distressing—especially in light of last night’s foolish purchase, which only cemented her opinion that she wasn’t as intelligent as he might assume. In her discomfort, she compounded her silliness by beginning to babble. “I was so fortunate to be able to find this secondhand at a price I could afford. What a shame that Mr. Maxwell has passed away, and far too young, too! But I’m confident his work will live on.”
He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss in her manner. He merely nodded. “He was a genius. Visionary too. I’m sorry you found the book before I did.” He said that last bit with a smile to show he was only joking. “May I have a look?”
“Of course.” Alice gave him the book but then immediately wished she hadn’t. As Mr. Shaw flipped it open to peruse the pages, she realized it had a larger cover and was thicker than the book she’d been carrying last night. Would he notice? How closely had he observed the parcel in her hands?
He studied the table of contents with evident pleasure. “Yes, this looks very interesting.” He closed the book and handed it back to her. “Perhaps you might be so kind as to loan it to me sometime?”
“I would be happy to.” Alice returned the book to her bag. “And you? Did you find something? I don’t believe you had much time to peruse the shelves.”
She’d spent a lot of time last night trying to come up with reasons why Mr. Shaw would have returned to the shop. Her biggest fear was that he had decided, for some reason, to buy the spinster book after all. But she was equally sure that was unlikely. He’d dismissed the book out of hand, showing less interest in it than either of his friends had. Unfortunately, she couldn’t ask him outright without admitting she’d been in the shop watching and listening to them.
“Yes, well, I . . .” Surprisingly, he looked nonplussed at the question.
If Mr. Shaw had returned for that spinster book, he would surely be as embarrassed as she was to admit it. That would be admirable, at any rate. But she repeated to herself that it was a ridiculous notion. Why would a man like him want to purchase a book like that? Based on her own reactions to him, she suspected he could win over any woman he wanted.
He cleared his throat. “In fact, I was looking for a particular volume on chemistry that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else.”
Yes, that made far more sense. He had mentioned last night that he was interested in books that explained how the world worked. It didn’t explain why he hadn’t asked for that chemistry book while he’d been in the shop the first time, but perhaps he’d been distracted by the conversation with his friends. “So you are interested in
chemistry?”
It was an automatic question, more from politeness than anything. Yet he gave her a smile that would have pierced the heart of even the most hardened female. “Very much so.”
Alice wondered if there was a chapter in that chemistry book on spontaneous combustion.
Chemistry.
Douglas had to laugh at himself for coming up with such an answer. While it was true he owned several books on the subject, his response cut too close to the bone. Not that he minded. At the moment he appeared to have Miss McNeil slightly off balance, and he was discovering he rather liked her that way. Although he hadn’t known her long, he suspected she was the kind of person who had not been put off balance often enough. In Douglas’s opinion, it was good to be shaken up once in a while. It helped a person learn to be more flexible.
They heard the sounder as soon as they entered the office. Someone was already trying to reach them.
“Everyone’s up early today, it seems,” Miss McNeil said. She was all business now, her composure returning. In a moment she was at her desk. Setting her bag out of the way, she tapped out the response indicating she was ready.
Archie wasn’t there yet. He generally came in later and worked until seven. Douglas was surprised to see Miss Waller’s desk unoccupied, though. She was usually the first person in the office. She always made a great show of being busy and having a lot to do, which Douglas didn’t doubt was true. Yet she was terribly disorganized. Had she the cleverness to develop a better system, she might accomplish her work in half the time.
Douglas was about to walk to his office when he was stopped by Mr. Henley coming through the main doors at full speed.
He pulled up when he saw Douglas. “Shaw, I’m glad you’re here. Listen, something has come up with that cotton shipment from Charleston. It was delayed a full month due to storms, and now the buyer is claiming we promised to reduce our fees if that should happen. Is this true?”
“No, sir. I’m sure we never put anything like that in the final draft of the contract, although I remember the buyer asking for it.”
“We’ll need to track down that contract. Where is Miss Waller?” Henley sent an angry glance at her empty desk.
“I don’t believe she is here yet.”
Henley blew out a breath. “Late again! That’s been happening too often. If it keeps up, I’ll begin stopping it out of her wages.” He turned toward Alice. “Miss McNeil!”
She stood up, a telegram in her hand. “Yes, sir?”
“What is that message? Is it from Charleston?”
“No, sir. It comes from the post office in Camden Town. It was sent from a lady who says she rooms in the same boardinghouse as Miss Waller. She wishes to inform us that Miss Waller has fallen ill and will likely be out for several days.”
“Of all the times for her to get sick,” Henley said with a grimace. That was apparently the only sympathy he was going to extend.
“What do you need?” Alice asked. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Miss McNeil. I appreciate you jumping in. I need to locate our file with the contracts for Manchester Textiles. It was signed last October.”
She nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“Keep an ear out for the sounder, though. I want to know if we hear from Southern Shipping in Charleston or from our insurance man in Liverpool.”
“I’ll help you look,” Douglas offered, following Alice as she walked into the adjacent room used for file storage. When she looked at him in surprise, he added, “I have the advantage of knowing what the contracts look like.”
“Right,” she said with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
The room was small and narrow, flanked on two walls by rows of filing cabinets. It felt more like a large closet, although it did have a window at one end for light. They began by sifting through the stacks of papers piled high on top of the cabinets. When this didn’t yield what they needed, they began looking through the drawers. It took some time, owing to Miss Waller’s inscrutable filing system.
At one point, Alice remarked, “This seems to be some odd mixture of chronological, alphabetical, and some other criteria that I can’t identify.”
Douglas shrugged. “Somehow Miss Waller always seems to find what we need when we ask her for it. Heaven knows how.” He opened another drawer and began to thumb through the files. “Mr. Henley told her very specifically not to lose this information.”
They both paused when they heard the sounder announce an incoming message. “I can answer that,” Douglas said. He was always happy for an opportunity to keep his telegraphic skills sharp. He’d enjoyed telegraphy work, even though he was proud to have taken on a more important role in the company. “Why don’t you keep looking?”
He thought she might object. It would be her right, given that it was officially her job. But she gave him a little nod and then pulled open another drawer. There was a look of grim determination on her face, and her brows were creased, as though she was trying to work out a complicated problem.
Douglas went to the telegraph machine and took down the message, perhaps surprising the sender—their clerk at the Liverpool office—when he identified himself as the receiver. The message was unrelated to the current situation, so he set it on the stack of messages to be typed up later. He returned to the filing room just as Alice was pulling a folder from a drawer.
“I believe this is it!” she said triumphantly, and handed it to him.
He opened the folder and perused the contents. “So it is. How did you find it?”
“It was filed among the items starting with V, naturally.”
Douglas looked at her, confused. “Why do you suppose it was there?” He couldn’t think of anything from the names of the companies involved that started with a V.
She smirked. “I assume that stands for ‘Very Important.’”
They laughed.
Douglas said, “I never would have guessed that. I suppose it must take another woman to figure out how a lady’s mind works.”
Alice crossed her arms. “Not all women think that way, I assure you. I was just guessing based on what I’ve seen of Miss Waller during my three months here.”
Douglas leaned against the doorjamb, effectively blocking her exit from the filing room. He liked this conversation, and he wasn’t in a hurry to move on. Whatever was going on with this contract could wait another minute or two. “So you’re a student of human nature, Miss McNeil? Do you perchance make a study of men?” He was thinking about that spinster book, still trying to discern if or why she might have bought it.
She grimaced. “No need for that, I assure you. Growing up with three brothers, plus my father, I would say I know more about men than I care to.” Her reply was tart, but Douglas could hear amusement underlying it.
“Three brothers!” he exclaimed. Perhaps this explained why she was able to hold her own with other men. It could also account for her unusual interest in scientific matters. “No sisters?”
“Just one.” She frowned as though it were not an especially happy thought.
“And where are you in the order?”
“Somewhere in the middle. That’s what my father always says when pressed. It’s a joke,” she added, perhaps misreading Douglas’s surprised reaction as horror. “He has no trouble keeping track of who we all are.”
“That’s good to hear. And your sister?” He knew he was asking a lot of questions, but she didn’t seem to mind answering them.
“She’s the youngest.”
“Is she also an expert telegrapher and file sleuth?”
Alice gave a little snort. “Hardly. She’s my opposite in every way.”
“Then I feel sorry for her.”
It was a compliment, pure and simple. It was also, Douglas knew, bordering on flirtation, which was definitely not advisable. He did not want to jeopardize a good working relationship. But at least it was not false flattery. He meant what he said.
She
looked at him wonderingly for a long moment. He noticed, now that he had a chance to really look at them, that her eyes were an interesting shade of dark green. There were hints of brown, but they were definitely green. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that before. As the moment lingered, he began to worry that he’d been staring, and that his words had been too forward.
But then she smiled. “I thank you for the compliment. My sister probably would not.”
“I imagine she has other admirable qualities.”
“She’s married.” Alice said this in a derisive way that made it clear she didn’t necessarily consider this an admirable quality.
“Is there a problem with that?” Douglas asked.
“On the contrary. It’s a load off my parents’ mind to have both their daughters settled.”
Douglas shook his head. “I don’t understand. Isn’t there one still left to worry about?”
She looked at him blankly for a moment before catching his meaning. “Oh, they don’t have to worry about me. I’m settled. I have work I enjoy and a comfortable place to live.”
“Do you mean you don’t intend to marry? You want to live alone forever?”
She drew back, as though Douglas’s words fell too harshly on her ears. “I never feel lonely, if that’s what you’re driving at.”
“But what about later in life?” he pressed. “What if one day you are unable to care for yourself, due to age or illness?”
Once again she gave him a blank look, as though he’d brought up an idea she hadn’t even considered. A look that might have been worry crossed her face. It passed, however. She waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll have a whole bevy of nieces and nephews for that.”
“Miss McNeil, you seem to be living solely in the present.”
“The present is the only place one can live, Mr. Shaw.”
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