by Aston, Alexa
Caroline glanced around and said, “I’m sure you’ve noticed the bare walls. Father must have sold much of the artwork. I also have noticed a few missing vases. At least there’s still some furniture left. But let’s get to what’s important—the books.”
They took some minutes skimming the shelves.
“I’ll need to make a list of everything here but this gives me a good idea of what I have.” She indicated two shelves. “These are all first editions. If Father would have realized how valuable they were, they would have been the first to be gone.”
“Was your father a great reader?” Luke asked. “He’s got a large collection of Shakespeare. Chapman’s translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey. Milton. Pope. Congreve.”
She eyed him with interest. “You sound familiar with all of those works.”
“I am. Remember, I told you I enjoy reading. I wasn’t interested in literature as a schoolboy but when I went off to university and could follow my own interests, I took a liking to reading and have kept up with it ever since. Plays. Poetry. Novels.” He laughed. “Even pamphlets on farming techniques and livestock breeding.”
“You’re interested in that?”
“I am a landowner. My estate is called Fairhaven. I’m responsible for a large group of tenants. I’m always experimenting, seeing if we can get a greater yield of crops from the land.”
“You surprise me, Luke. To the world, you present a devil may care image. You are much deeper than what you let on.”
“And that’s a good thing?” he asked softly.
“Definitely.”
“Then I’m glad for your approval. Of course, I would assume you would approve of my voracious appetite for reading since I will be a frequent customer at Evie’s.”
She frowned. “Don’t think you have to do that. You or any of your family.”
“We all enjoy reading. Cor taught the three of us how to read before we ever had a governess or tutor. And you’ve heard how Leah is a subscriber to a circulating library. Be glad we are such a large bunch and will patronize Evie’s. We can talk it up with all of our friends.”
“Thank you.” Sincerity shone in her warm, brown eyes. For the first time, he noticed the flecks of amber in them.
“Are there any other books in the house or should we search for pieces of furniture now that would be appropriate for the bookstore?”
“There may be a stray book or two. I’m sure I left a couple in my room while packing for Boston.” She paused. “I haven’t been to my room since I left.”
“It was cruel of Morrow not to let you claim your personal things. At least you have access to them now.”
“Let’s go upstairs.”
Luke went with her and Caroline pointed out things missing from the corridor. They reached her room and entered. She was quiet as she looked about, running her hand along the bed and opening the wardrobe.
“Just as I left it,” she murmured.
She led them across the hall to another bedchamber. When he opened the door and then entered, she gasped.
“Everything’s gone!” she cried, spinning in a circle.
Without being told, he determined this was her sister’s room—and that her father had sold all the contents.
“How could he have done this?” she said angrily. “I have nothing left to remember Cynthia by.” Her hands fisted and her cheeks heightened with color. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”
“He must have been in dire straits to strip the room in such a fashion, as well as sell off other pieces throughout the house,” Luke said, trying to soften the blow.
“Sometimes, I don’t think he cared a whit for any of us. Me. Mama. Cynthia. He was a very selfish man who only cared about himself and his pleasure. His card games. His mistresses.”
Guilt filled Luke. Caroline could have been describing him a short time ago. But that was before he decided what was important in life and rid himself of things—and people—he didn’t want in his life.
“I must go to Mama’s room,” she said and hurried away.
His longer strides easily caught up to her and they entered a chamber that was larger than the ones they’d been in. From the looks of it, about half of the furniture had been taken away.
Caroline went to the dressing table and opened a jewelry box.
“Empty,” she said dully.
He could feel the waves of disappointment emanating from her and wanted to comfort her, deciding to speak of something he’d buried deep within.
“I’m sorry your father was so rotten, Caroline. I can relate—for mine was cut from the same cloth.”
She slowly closed the jewelry box and met his gaze.
“My father’s life revolved around being merry,” Luke revealed. “He gave no love to his children and devoted not one whit to the three of us. He would only partake in whatever gave him pleasure. That meant drinking to excess and bedding every available woman he could find. And gambling—the same as your father. When Jeremy inherited the title, the estate was almost bankrupt, thanks to Father’s losses at the tables. It took years for Jeremy to pull us out of debt.”
“I had no idea. I’m sorry, Luke.”
“We don’t talk about it,” he said. “It’s in the past.”
“I wish I could say the same,” she replied. “Having only come home and now being confronted with all of this is disheartening. I feel so alone.”
Luke hated the hurt in her voice, all due to a despicable man, one just like his sire. To witness such a lack of love in Caroline’s life brought him deep pain.
“Jeremy became a father to me and Rachel once our father passed. I am fortunate that he and Cor lavished us with attention and love. I cannot fathom you returning to England and feeling so isolated, with no loving family members to turn to.”
Caroline shrugged. “I’ve been on my own so long. I don’t really know any other way.”
She went to the bedside table and picked up a small painting. Luke came and stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. He saw two girls on the cusp of womanhood and instantly knew them as Caroline and Cynthia.
Caroline gazed at the portrait for a long time and finally said, “This was painted just before Cynthia came ill that last time. I’d decided to postpone my come-out so we could do it together.” Her finger touched her own image. “It’s hard to think I was once this girl. A naïve, shy thing who kept her nose in a book, trying to learn as much as she could to impress a father who always ignored her.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I like you better now. You’ve matured into a beauty that’s only promised in this portrait. You are outgoing and outspoken. Strong and determined.” Luke brushed his lips against her hair. “You have become a thoughtful adult, Caroline. One who will never act as selfishly as your father did. You will cherish your family and love them well.”
She rested the portrait against the table and he heard her choke back a sob. Luke turned her in his arms and brought her close. Her fingers clutched his coat as she buried her face against him. Even through the material, he could feel the hot tears. He stroked her back, murmuring soft words to soothe and console her.
The heaving sobs subsided and she stilled. Luke relaxed his grasp on her without totally releasing her and Caroline lifted her tearstained face. Her gaze met his and his heart broke at the sadness he saw. Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her, wanting to comfort her. That’s all the kiss would have been. Brief. Light. Reassuring.
Until she opened her mouth to him.
It was as if someone lit a match. Something sparked instantly between them. His tongue delved into the rich velvet and tasted her yearning. Her heat. Desire flared within him. His hands spread on her back and brought her against him. He wasn’t the only participant in the kiss. Caroline’s arms went about his neck, her hands locking together and pulling him toward her. Her tongue did battle with his, engaging in a strategy that overwhelmed him. Her light, floral perfume wafted about h
im and he delved even deeper with his kiss.
Her fingers pushed into his hair and fisted there as their kiss became more urgent. His hands slid down and cupped her rounded bottom, kneading it. He broke the kiss and allowed his lips to travel down her throat, finding where her pulse pounded wildly. He nipped and licked at the place, hearing her moan as she tossed her head back, giving him all the access he needed.
Her breasts, crushed against his chest, suddenly called out to him. Luke’s lips burned a path down her neck and went lower as his hands came round and cupped her breasts. He squeezed gently and dragged his thumbs across her nipples, slowly circling them as she whimpered. His mouth closed over one breast, his tongue finding the erect nipple through the thin material of her gown. As he licked at it, her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer to her. Luke’s heart raced wildly. All he wanted was to strip her of her clothes and take her.
The thought took him back to reality.
That was the last thing he would do. He wanted her to want him but he couldn’t let their passion spin out of control and make the all-important decision for her. She must be clearheaded and determined to pick him to spend their lifetimes together without desire clouding her judgment. Luke wanted Caroline to feel confident and get her business off to a strong start. She must stand on her own and be comfortable with who she was before he could ask to be a part of her life.
Though how he was going to keep from blurting out that he loved her might be the greatest test he’d ever faced. In that moment, Luke accepted the fact that he did love her—and because of that, he would keep silent. For now.
Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away. He saw her glazed eyes and fevered cheeks and couldn’t resist one final, quick kiss, hard and possessive. Then he released her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing her elbows when she swayed.
“Why?” she asked, her eyes pleading with him to continue.
“I meant merely to comfort you. You’ve faced such disappointment and loss. I’m afraid I took advantage of you in a weak moment. You’re a lady, Caroline. I’m a gentleman. I value our friendship. I would never compromise you.”
Hoping she was steady on her feet now, he let go. Reaching for the portrait, he picked it up and handed it to her, knowing it would give her something to focus on.
“You should take this with you back to Rachel and Evan’s. Place it by your bedside. Talk to your sister each night. Tell her all that you accomplished that day and how much you love her and wish she could see you. Know that she’s always proud of you, even if she can only look down from heaven at you.”
Caroline wiped away tears with the back of her hand and clutched the painting to her breasts.
“Let me see you home,” Luke said quietly.
They didn’t speak the entire way to his sister’s house. When they arrived, he said, “I will work with Mrs. Withers and Mrs. Baker tomorrow. I’ll see that the right ovens are purchased and that they finalize the menu so we can order some of the staples they’ll need in baking.”
“When will I see you again?” she asked.
Whenever I can keep my hands off you, he thought.
“Soon,” he promised.
Luke rang the bell and Kent answered almost immediately.
“Goodnight, Caroline,” Luke said and hurried away.
Chapter Fifteen
Caroline’s mind wandered. Her eyes felt grainy from lack of sleep. She’d tossed and turned all night long, thinking of the kiss she and Luke had shared.
Why had he stopped?
He’d told her. She just had trouble accepting his reason.
Because they were . . . friends.
He’d said he’d taken advantage of her and valued their friendship. That he’d never compromise her.
Frustration filled her. She’d been the one who’d taken advantage of him. She knew he was trying to comfort her with an innocent, brief kiss. She was the one who’d felt desire flame within her. And she was the one who turned the kiss from sweet to one full of heat. Even now, her blood sang with his name.
How would she live with the fact that he only wanted to be friends? Was it even possible for men and women to be friends, with no passion between them? Just being in the same room with him caused her to come alive. Her senses seemed sharper. Her body tingled, longing for his touch. She hung on every word he spoke. Yet knowing he didn’t think of her as she did him made her think she should avoid him. She’d thought to do that when they’d first met, thinking him a dangerous rogue who would trifle with her heart. She hadn’t wanted that, especially with her focus on establishing her own bookstore.
Caroline supposed that if Luke truly were to look for a bride this Season, as she’d been led to believe, she would be the last woman he’d ever choose. First, she had a father who’d fallen out of favor with the ton. Gambling and mistresses were tolerated to a certain point but the Earl of Templeton had gone over the edge, losing money hand over fist, so much that not only was he financially ruined, but he had shamed the only family he had left.
The fact that Caroline was now a businesswoman would also be a strike against her. A family as old and distinguished as the St. Clairs would not want someone frowned upon by the women of the ton to become Luke’s wife. She already knew she would be judged even more harshly than a titled gentleman who might dirty his hands in trade.
She didn’t think it would affect the new friendships she’d made though she doubted she would be able to socialize with Rachel, Leah, or Catherine in public. Once word got out about her bookstore and tearoom, Caroline knew social invitations would dry up. She would not want her friends’ reputations maligned by her presence. She hoped she would still see them in their homes. The three women already meant a great deal to her, as if she’d been welcomed to their sisterhood.
Stinch cleared his throat. “Do you agree, Lady Caroline?”
Oh, dear. She hadn’t heard a word her new manager said. Wanting to support him, though, she smiled and said, “I certainly do, Mr. Stinch. You are rarely wrong about anything.”
He smiled, pleased with her praise. “Then I think I will let those waiting know what our decisions are.”
“Yes. It would be best if news of their hiring comes from you since you will be in charge of everything regarding our employees. Have them report first thing in the morning. By then, I’m hoping to have some inventory available. And let any former servants of Father’s know that I will write them references even though they won’t be working at Evie’s.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She watched him go to deliver the news to those who would be working for her. Two of their former maids would be taking orders and serving customers in the tearoom. They were both in their mid-twenties, young enough to stand on their feet long hours and yet with enough experience to be steady on the job. They’d also hired one of the former footmen as a driver. Not for the coach but for the large cart that she knew was in the stables. It would be used to ferry books to Evie’s from other bookstores and possibly even directly from a few London publishing houses. That’s what she would look into next.
What had surprised her were three clerks they’d hired for the bookstore itself. None of the former Templeton servants who’d come to interview seemed qualified to act as clerks who recommended books and waited on customers. A few of them hadn’t even been able to read, which had knocked them out of the running. She and Stinch had hired three young men this morning from other booksellers, though. Two of them had previously worked at rival bookstores she’d visited and were men she’d asked many questions. The third man had worked in a nearby circulating library and had heard gossip about what establishment would fill the empty space she’d purchased. He’d taken a chance and come by two days in a row and was granted an interview when he saw them inside. She thought the trio all well qualified since she’d asked them not only about various types of literature and nonfiction books but assessed their speech skills and mannerisms. They all would do well working with t
he public.
A fourth young man, barely twenty, had also come on board. He’d apprenticed with a bookbinder and knew quite a bit about how to repair books. He’d told them that his master had a son who also apprenticed under his father. The young man knew when the time came, the son would be favored and receive a job in the family business. He decided to take the initiative and strike out on his own. He promised to be a hard worker and had also worked a few hours a week in a local bookstore. His familiarity with how books were labeled and shelved would be invaluable.
Stinch returned and gave her a list of four names.
“These are those who wish for you to write them a reference, Lady Caroline. I told them they could return tomorrow to receive them. They all asked that I thank you. Finding a job in London without a reference is almost impossible.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said, placing the list in her reticule.
She was ready to leave the bookstore when a familiar face walked through the front door.
“Mr. Walton. I’m surprised to see you.”
He tipped his hat to her. “Lady Caroline. It’s nice to see you’ve returned safely from America.” He glanced about. “So the rumors I’ve heard are true. You’re opening a bookstore.”
“I am.”
“Then you’ll need an assistant.”
Walton had served as her father’s secretary for many years. He’d always taken time to ask Caroline what she’d learned from her governess that day and occasionally slipped her a peppermint from a jar he kept in a drawer.
It hurt her to say, “I don’t think I have anything for you, Mr. Walton. Mr. Stinch is serving as the bookstore’s manager. I’ve already hired sales clerks.”
“Who’ll keep the ledgers? Order your books?”
“I’d plan to do all of that,” she said gently. “I inherited my aunt’s bookstore in Boston and am quite familiar with how to run one.”
Disappointment crossed his face. “I see.” He paused. “It’s just . . . so hard finding another position at my age. Your father dying suddenly left me without any references. Even then, I feel others are reluctant to hire me because of the sad state of the earl’s affairs. I am blamed merely by my association with him, though none of the debt was my doing.”
