by Aston, Alexa
He nodded brusquely. “Thank you for your time, Lady Caroline. I wish you the best of luck in your venture.”
Her heart ached as she watched him walk away. “Wait!” she cried before he reached the door.
Walton turned and came back to her. “Are you willing to write a reference for me, my lady? That would certainly be appreciated.”
“I can offer you something temporary,” she began, formulating in her mind what he might do. “I need to acquire a list of bookshops in London, especially the smaller ones. I must find out if any sellers wish to be rid of some of their inventory. I’ll need helping buying inventory, a good variety because I want Evie’s to be known for having whatever a customer needs and if we don’t, getting that particular book as quickly as we can. I also need a list of publishing houses and which ones sell direct to booksellers. And if they give a discount if a large volume is purchased. It would require a great deal of investigation.”
Walton’s face brightened at the prospect. “It sounds exactly like something I could do.”
“Once I have it and I begin buying, I’ll also need someone to record each book and the number purchased. Some books will be designated for sale, whether new or used, while both new and used volumes will become part of my circulating library. It will take a great many hours to get all of this done.”
“Time is something I have on my hands, my lady.”
“Once that’s done, I can take over since I won’t be buying in such great volume. Would this temporary job suit you, Mr. Walton?”
“It would, indeed, Lady Caroline.” He smiled shyly. “I may even make myself so indispensable that you might want to keep me around. Especially if your bookstore becomes a success.”
“That would be ideal for both of us,” she said, returning his smile.
“I’ll start now, making the rounds,” he proclaimed. “Shall we meet here tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, Mr. Walton. That would be a fine idea. Concentrate on booksellers first.”
“I will. A very good day to you.” This time, the former secretary left with a spring in his step.
Caroline hoped she would be able to keep Mr. Walton on.
*
“That’s cut a little low, don’t you think?” Caroline asked Catherine.
Immediately, Madame Toufours tsk-tsked her comment. “Lady Caroline, you have a wonderful bosom. It should be shown.”
She looked to Catherine, her eyes pleading.
“I agree with Madame,” the duchess said. “Besides, you can always wear a fichu to fill in the low neckline if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I suppose. I’ve just never shown so much of my bosom before.”
“The women of the ton will be envious,” the modiste said and then smiled. “And the men will be enamored.”
Caroline felt her face flaming.
“Not all are cut so low,” the modiste assured her. “Let’s try another. Marie-Therese, bring the lavender.”
The assistant went to fetch the next gown and the Frenchwoman helped Caroline from the garment she wore. After another hour, her fitting was completed.
“I must say, I didn’t even recognize some of my former gowns,” Catherine said. “You are a genius, Madame Toufours.”
“I am,” the modiste agreed. Looking to Caroline, she asked, “Do you have time to stay behind, my lady, and discuss the merchandise to be placed inside Evie’s? I’m ready for it to be moved.”
She looked to Catherine, who said, “I must return home. Mr. Bellows is coming to show me the final version of my book. I’m to check it for any errors before it goes to press. It will definitely be ready for the opening of your bookstore. Let me send the carriage back for you since you may be here a while.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Catherine.”
“Keep it for as long as you need today. I will be home for the rest of the day.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me have Marie-Therese and Genevieve carry out your gowns, Your Grace,” Madame Toufours said.
As the assistants took the gowns to the waiting carriage under Catherine’s supervision, Caroline said, “I have several gowns to donate to your shop. They belonged to my mother, who passed away. Perhaps you would be able to remake some of them as you have the duchess’ gowns for me. If not, I’m sure you could use bits and pieces of them as material for other gowns you create.”
The modiste’s eyes lit with interest. “When can I have them?”
“As soon as you’d like.”
“May I send a wagon tomorrow morning?” Madame asked eagerly.
“What time? It’s at my father’s house, the Earl of Templeton’s. I’m staying with the Marchioness of Merrick. Her townhome is directly across from my former home.”
“Is nine too early?”
“Not at all,” Caroline said easily. “If anything, it’s late for me.”
She’d been busy day and night for the past week. Already, she’d purchase many books, including the entire stock from a bookseller that had planned to retire early next year. Caroline had convinced him the opportunity to rid himself of the contents of his bookstore wasn’t to be passed up and they’d struck an agreement on the spot.
In a week, Rachel had seen to the minor construction projects at Evie’s, including having the wall knocked down to join the bookstore with the tearoom. The entire place had been cleaned and painted and, only yesterday, furniture had been delivered. This afternoon, Rachel and Leah were meeting Caroline at Evie’s to organize the placement of various reading areas. They were using furniture from her father’s townhouse to begin and would see if more would be needed.
“What of the goods you wish me to carry?” Caroline asked.
“They are ready to be transported, as well, once you give your approval.”
“Then let me see them.”
The modiste led her down a hallway and through a door to a storeroom. She turned to her left and indicated a large group of items.
“These are what I wish to bring. Marie-Therese has a list of everything, along with the prices to be charged.”
“I’ll go to Evie’s now and send my driver and a clerk to load them. Marie-Therese can come with them and arrange things. If you’d like to stop by after your shop closes, you can see how things were laid out and make any suggestions on placement.”
“These are exciting times,” the modiste said, a satisfied look on her face.
“They are, indeed,” Caroline agreed.
She left in the ducal carriage, which now waited for her with her own gowns from her fitting. It conveyed her to Evie’s. She asked the driver to deliver the gowns inside to the Merrick townhome and then dismissed him. She spoke to Stinch about picking up the wares from Madame Toufours and he told her he would see to it immediately. Her friends arrived and with the help of two clerks, they arranged and rearranged the furniture to their liking, deciding what they had was adequate for now. Shelving would come in tomorrow and be placed. That was a good thing since, next door, stacks of books filled the small warehouse and she still hoped to purchase more before the grand opening.
Marie-Therese arrived with the goods from Madame Toufours and Rachel and Leah decided to help the clerk arrange the wares for sale. Caroline let them know the modiste would be by in a few hours to approve of their work.
Mrs. Withers came and asked if everyone in the bookstore might like to sit for a spot of tea. Nobility and workingmen alike filed into the teashop, where the cook and her sister lavished them with sweets and hot cups of tea. Caroline looked around, glad they’d finally gotten in the tables and chairs she’d ordered. Everything was falling into place nicely.
Everything—except her heart.
It, unfortunately, dangled from a precipice of her own making. It didn’t help that Luke, once the ovens had arrived, had made himself scarce. She’d only seen him once. He’d informed her that he was working on the font to be used for the teahouse’s menu and how items would be grouped and priced. He ass
ured her he had everything in hand and had found a printer for the work.
After that, nothing. She’d seen the three husbands, as she’d begun to call them, several times. Evan and Alex dropped by with helpful hints, while Jeremy had asked to meet twice with her, wanting updates on her progress. He’d made a few subtle recommendations that she’d pounced upon, knowing his experience in business far outweighed hers.
“Lady Caroline, a message has come for you,” Stinch said, handing her the note.
“Thank you.”
She opened it and saw it was from another bookstore owner that she’d tried to meet with. He’d been out of town on a buying trip and, now, he agreed to see her if she were currently free. With the furniture already placed and Rachel and Leah aiding Marie-Therese, Caroline decided she wasn’t needed for the rest of the day. She told her friends goodbye and explained to Stinch and Walton where she’d be and that she would see them in the morning.
“May I come with you, Lady Caroline?” Walton asked. “This is one of the few shops I haven’t investigated yet.”
“Of course.”
Outside, Walton hailed a hackney and told the driver, “Netherby’s Bookshop,” and then helped her into the vehicle.
She was curious to meet Leland Netherby. Walton had told her the man had a reputation among the book community for being persnickety and demanding. Most booksellers avoided dealing with him when they could. Caroline didn’t mind.
She liked a challenge.
Chapter Sixteen
Netherby’s was only five blocks from her own bookstore, which would make him one of her chief competitors. Caroline and Walton entered the bookstore and Walton peeled away to look the place over. She went to the desk and a clerk asked if he could help her.
“Lady Caroline Andrews to see Mr. Netherby,” she said crisply.
“Ah. Let me see if Mr. Netherby is available.”
Before she could inform the clerk that she was invited—even expected—he hurried away. As Caroline waited, her eyes roamed the store. Experience told her there were between eleven and twelve hundred books available on the shelves. She began moving through the store, estimating that a little more than half of the available books were new and the others used. The small corner devoted to children’s books was poorly stocked. She took that as good news since she planned a large area for children’s books.
Suddenly, it hit her that women of the ton would be shopping for books for their children. They might even bring their children along on occasion. What if she created a reading nook and play area? It could have books for them to read and puzzles to play with while their mothers shopped. She could even hire someone experienced with children to watch over the area so mothers could browse on their own and even have a cup of tea.
Excited by the idea, she returned to the desk. The clerk was still missing. She joined the line with two customers in it and waited patiently until her turn came.
“I have an appointment to see Mr. Netherby,” she said.
“Don’t worry, Sims. I’ll take care of this.”
Caroline saw the clerk she’d spoken to earlier had finally returned. She didn’t know if he’d been waylaid by a customer or if Mr. Netherby had kept him but her time was valuable.
“Is Mr. Netherby ready to receive me?” she asked pointedly.
“He is. If you’ll come this way.”
The man led her through stacks of books, where she saw Walton browsing, and then through a door and down a corridor. They reached an office with an open door and the clerk left her without a word.
Leland Netherby concentrated on a sheaf of papers. He was mostly bald, with tufts of graying hair bunched above his ears.
When he failed to acknowledge her presence, Caroline cleared her throat. Netherby looked up, almost bored, and slowly removed his spectacles, placing them on the desk before him. He rose slowly to his feet.
“Lady Caroline Andrews?” he asked languidly.
Her temper flared but she tamped it down. She had a suspicion this man was testing her.
“Yes,” she said and smiled graciously. “You must be Mr. Netherby. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Come in.” He indicated a chair before his desk and she took a seat.
“Thank you for inviting me to meet with you,” she said. “I’ve become acquainted with some of London’s booksellers already but it’s nice to meet you since our shops are so close. Has Netherby’s been here long?”
“Yes,” he said, pride evident in his posture. “I am the third generation to operate it. My grandfather began the store. My father ran it after him and then passed it along to me. It has been in this location for decades.”
“My, that’s impressive. Do you have a son who will take over from you someday?”
Displeasure filled his face. “My son has chosen to . . . follow another path.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said politely.
“Tell me about your little bookstore.”
Something spiked inside Caroline. Instinct told her he’d deliberately kept her waiting. This man was her rival. She decided to only give him the barest of information.
“It will be named Evie’s Bookstore, after my late aunt,” she began.
“And what makes you think you have the capability of running a bookstore?”
Immediately, his tone made her think of the verbal battles she’d participated in with her father and she grew wary.
“Because I ran one in Boston,” she said succinctly.
He shrugged. “A provincial little town.”
“Actually, Boston is a thriving city,” she informed him. “One of the largest in America. I assisted my aunt in running the place and managed it on my own after her death.”
“You’re playing at being a businesswoman, Lady Caroline,” Netherby said flatly. “No one is going to accept a woman bookseller. Oh, there are some women who run a business in London. Milliners. Modistes. No one is going to take you seriously, though.” He paused, looking her up and down. “You are a woman of the ton. You’ll be ostracized by that very ton for dirtying your hands in business. They won’t shop at your little store. And no one will recommend it, either.”
He crossed his arms. “If a customer wishes for a book I don’t have, I tell him I’ll get it for him. If I’m unable to within a reasonable amount of time, I send him to a fellow bookseller. I—and others in London—will never send them to your establishment.”
She started to speak but he held up a hand.
“Yes, you’ve purchased some stock from other sellers in the past week but that will not be the case in the future. You won’t be able to build any more inventory. I’ll see to that. This is a man’s world, my lady. Run by men. You aren’t wanted here. We shall close ranks and make sure—if you continue this foolish venture—that you fail.”
Caroline rose, knowing her cheeks blazed in anger. “Evie’s Bookstore is my livelihood, Mr. Netherby. I don’t have the pleasure of having a father who left me well off because mine was a gambler who lost everything. I have the wherewithal and determination to stake a claim and create a haven for women to buy their books and socialize a bit. I understand that we are competitors and that you have little regard for me. I am sorry for that. It’s your loss, though. Not mine. Good day, sir.”
She left the office, hearing Netherby shout after her, “You’ll fail! So will that tearoom of yours. You’ll be a laughingstock.”
Caroline burst through the door and stormed through the bookstore. Walton quickly joined her and they left the premises.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Mr. Netherby doesn’t have a high opinion of women going into business. Especially women who might compete against him. He’s going to try and turn other booksellers against me.”
Walton swallowed. “So, it’s war, is it?”
“It is, indeed. This visit to Mr. Netherby has only increased my resolve. I am determined to make a success of Evie’s simply to spite him,” Caroline
declared.
*
Three days later, Caroline realized how dire her situation was. Suddenly, no one would sell to her or any of her representatives. Everywhere, booksellers gave her the cold shoulder. Still needing a great deal of books, she tried not to panic. She had too many people she’d hired depending upon her for her to fail in this endeavor.
The problem led her once again to the Duke of Everton.
Barton admitted her and asked, “His Grace? Or Her Grace?”
“His Grace,” she said and followed the butler to the duke’s study.
Everton welcomed her warmly and introduced her to his companion.
“This is Matthew Proctor, who serves as my eyes and ears and advises me in business.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Caroline,” Proctor said. “His Grace has told me of your venture. I’m eager to see it—and shop there.”
She frowned. “There won’t be any shopping or any store if I can’t get my hands on more inventory.” She looked to the duke. “May I sit?”
“Of course.” He steepled his fingers. “It sounds as if you have troubles. Share them. Together, Matthew and I might be able to come up with a solution.”
Caroline told him of what she’d accomplished since his last visit and how everything had changed after her meeting with Leland Netherby. Everton said nothing but a muscle in his cheek twitched as she told him how the bookseller had threatened her.
“He’s going to drive me out of business before I can even open my doors,” she said, exasperation plain in her voice. “Netherby has rallied other London booksellers around him. The tearoom is ready to open now but I still lack in books.”
She sighed. “That’s why I’ve turned to you, Your Grace, for advice. I’m sure as often as I show up here, I should be paying you as my financial adviser.”
“There will always be petty Netherbys in the world. We cannot let them win.” Everton rose. “Come with me to my library. You, too, Matthew.”
