“We could get ices at Gunter’s afterward,” Malcolm said with mounting enthusiasm.
“Gunter’s?”
“You have not seen London if you have not been to Berkeley Square and experienced it. I insist. My treat.”
“Thank you, Mal; I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Have a terrible time, I am sure,” he said with a grin and opened the door for her.
The bookshop was utterly charming inside, a labyrinth of shelves snaking away from the main area in every direction. Ladders, each more precarious than the last, rested against the high shelves, and books were piled in every corner.
“You, see?” Malcolm said triumphantly as Charlotte felt her smile widen considerably. “I knew this would cheer you up. I charge you to find three books of poetry you have not yet read, and I shall buy them for y—” he stopped, his eyes widening slightly in shock.
Charlotte turned to see what he was looking at, and she too froze in place as the Duke of Lindenbrook and Lady Elizabeth Ludlow emerged from between the bookshelves.
He looked impossibly handsome; his features relaxed in a faint smile as he accompanied his cousin. Charlotte’s fingers fluttered at her skirts as she watched him approach, her breath coming faster as she took in the strict line of his coat. He had not yet seen them, but Elizabeth had noticed Malcolm.
After a moment of charged tension, where Malcolm stared at her, seemingly unable to move, he launched himself across the shop to speak to them. Charlotte followed at a slightly more leisurely pace and curtsied to Elizabeth.
The duke’s eyes widened as he saw Charlotte, watching her with an intensity that made Charlotte’s heart beat a thunderous rhythm in her chest. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that look, but her skin felt hot in the face of it.
“Good morning, Lady Wentworth,” he said with a perfect bow. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Your Grace,” she said with a smile. Lady Ludlow was looking between them curiously, and the duke quickly motioned to her, his eyes twinkling a little.
“Lady Wentworth, may I introduce my cousin, Lady Elizabeth Ludlow.”
Charlotte curtsied to Elizabeth, who bowed her head. She was a very elegant woman up close, and Charlotte found herself rather envious of her petite frame. Malcolm, for his part, appeared to be completely tongue-tied, and Charlotte took pity on him.
“Lady Ludlow, may I introduce my companion, Miss Sarah Gilmore. We have been walking about the town this morning after Lord Preston invited us to accompany him.” Malcolm finally broke out of his stupor and bowed. “I have been charged with perusing the poetry, your Grace.” Charlotte continued, a familiar calm overcoming her as she looked at the duke. “Lord Preston has promised to buy me three books, no matter the cost! Isn’t that generous of him,” she stated, flicking an amused glance at her cousin.
Malcolm scoffed, finally finding his voice, and groaned aloud. “I had forgotten how much you adore poetry. I renege on my agreement. Small volumes, please, Lady Wentworth, think of my purse.”
“May I show you?” the duke asked, surprising her as he held his arm for her to take. “We just came from there ourselves, and I would hate for you to be cursed with only Byron for company.”
Malcolm watched with interest as Charlotte gave a small huff of laughter, her cheeks pinking prettily as she accompanied the duke to the shelves a little way from them. Malcolm observed the duke’s expression with great interest—there was admiration in his eyes, and Malcolm wondered where they might have met before.
“I did not expect to see you here, my Lord,” Elizabeth said, shifting the books under her arm and looking about them at the small bookshop. “Are you here to purchase anything for yourself or purely for Lady Wentworth’s benefit?”
“I have purchasedfartoo many books, Lady Ludlow. I have fifteen volumes I have yet to read. Do not allow me to buy anything, I beg you,” he said lightly.
She laughed as she showed him the titles she had pulled from the shelves.
“Ah! I see you are a reader of Austen,” he said cheerfully.
“Indeed, I have read all of her books, although this one is a gift. I have a well-thumbed volume ofEmmaat home. This I have bought for my niece. I think it important to corrupt women early. My father thinks Austen is a radical, so I feel it is a suitable present for a ten-year-old.”
Malcolm let out a sharp bark of laughter at that and shook his head.
“A radical; indeed, she certainly makes me laugh a great deal when I read her books. But then, I always laugh when I am around you, too, so perhaps you are also a radical Lady Ludlow.”
He was delighted to see her smile at that as she looked down at the floor in embarrassment and Malcolm’s heart positively sang as he glanced behind them to see where his cousin had been.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlotte was in heaven.
The books around her were the greatest collection of poems she had ever seen. She could not think to pick only three and had been extolling the virtues of Wordsworth for almost two full minutes before she realized that the duke had not spoken for some time.
