Page 7 of An Enchanting Dare

As usual, Conor availed himself of one of the few chairs in the place and sat down with a sporting journal to while away the time whilst they investigated the titles. The scent of paper and dust and leather was heavy in the air, and Aisling fancied she could smell the knowledge held between the pages of the overstuffed bookshelves. Happily, they appeared to be the only visitors today. Mr Ransom greeted her warmly, recognising a regular customer and immediately asked what she needed.

“Culpeper’s Herbal? Yes, my lady. You are in luck. There is a very fine copy on the shelves at this moment.”

Aisling nodded, pleased. “Excellent. I shall hunt down my quarry in that case.”

“Actually, my lady, there is….” Mr Ransom hesitated and darted a nervous glance at her brother.

“Yes?” Aisling said, curious why he looked somewhat anxious.

He lowered his voice. “Well, I have had a curious volume come into my hands and I’ve not known what to do with it. However, what with your interest in medicines and… unusual titles—”

“Oh,” Aisling said, perking up and glancing around herself much as Mr Ransom had done. “Yes, it might be something I’d find of interest. Might I see it?”

Mr Ransom nodded. “If perhaps you’d like to take Culpeper to the little reading nook, I could bring it to you.”

Aisling nodded, understanding. The reading nook was a cramped corner at the far end of the shop and the farthest from any prying eyes. She lost no time in tracking down the herbal and making herself comfortable at the rickety table. The chair was little better, with lumpy padding and a spring that poked at her backside, making her sit at an awkward angle. There was still no better place in London and Aisling passed a happy five minutes inspecting the book, though she knew it practically off by heart already.

Quick footsteps announced the return of Mr Ransom, who handed her a small, but fat and well-worn book. “If it is of interest, I’d be willing to let it go cheaply rather than find another buyer. I must admit I…. It makes me uncomfortable to keep hold of such a thing. Silly, I know,” he added ruefully.

Aisling bit back a smile and nodded her understanding. “Of course, Mr Ransom. I shall take a look and let you know.” Though she already knew she would buy the volume. It had the feel of something old and precious, and she turned the pages reverently. The writing was neat, obviously in a feminine hand, and the drawings quite lovely. It was a grimoire and likely full of the most fascinating advice and information. Aisling was captivated and so absorbed in her perusal that she did not hear the tinkling of the shop bell. The dark shadow that fell over her might not have roused her attention either, if it hadn’t made it hard to read. Irritated, she looked up and then swallowed an oath as she saw a familiar face staring down at her, curiosity burning in his tawny eyes.

“Is that a diary?”

Aisling slammed the cover shut and gathered up the copy of Culpeper’s Herbal, so it hid the book from view. “Of a sort,” she replied, pushing to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

Mr Cootes looked about the room, pursing his lips as though considering the matter. “Well, I thought I might buy a book. I rather assumed this was a good place for the endeavour.”

Aisling frowned, annoyed that he should have found her bookshop, of all places. With difficulty, she manoeuvred out from behind the table and replaced the chair.

“Surely Hatchard’s is more your style, Mr Cootes,” she said, clutching her books tight to her chest. “Or are you a regular visitor to Mr Ransom?”

“No, actually. I’ve never even seen the shop before today, but I was passing, and it caught my eye. It’s a fascinating little place, isn’t it?” he added, looking about with obvious interest.

Aisling fought back a proprietary urge to tell him to find his own bookshop because this one was hers. “It is,” she agreed.

“May I see what you’ve chosen?”

Aisling’s hold on her book tightened a degree further. “Culpeper’s Herbal. The dog ate my copy.”

“Unfortunate,” Mr Cootes replied, his lips twitching. “And the other title—”

Aisling felt a blush creep up her throat as she realised she would rather die than tell him. “None of your business,” she replied, sticking her chin up.

His eyes gleamed with interest, and she silently thought a very bad word she’d once heard her brother say. Drat the fellow, now he was more interested than ever.

“My lady,” he said, lowering his voice. “Not that I disapprove of such things, but you aren’t buying, er—naughty books?”

Aisling blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Naughty books?” she repeated. “Whatever do you—Oh!” She had once found a book with pictures in her brother’s room when she’d been looking for a novel he’d borrowed and never returned. She’d only caught the barest glimpse of the activities illustrated within before Conor had snatched it from her, but she knew this was the kind of thing he must be referring to.

To her consternation, her blush increased. “Don’t be disgusting,” she retorted.

The devil shrugged, unimpressed. “I don’t see what’s disgusting about it. Some of the artwork is very fine indeed. You need not prevaricate with me, you know. I would not judge you for being, er… curious if it is something wicked.”

“Well, of course it isn’t! How could you think that I….” Aisling saw the amusement glinting in his eyes and wished she knew more bad words. She really must learn some new ones. “You are a—”

“Pestilential nuisance, yes, I remember,” he said, grinning at her. “Might I call on you tomorrow?”

“Certainly not,” she snapped, wishing he would move aside so she could pay for her books and get out of the shop.