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“Is anything the matter?” she asked, glancing up from her book.
“Nothing,” he muttered. He lifted more crates.
“What will you require for the renovations?” she asked him when he returned from his last trip.
“A full set of carpentry tools. Ladders. Oak floorboards to replace the damaged ones I remove.”
She jotted it all down with a pencil and notepad she’d pulled from her bag. “Hobbs will have everything delivered tomorrow morning. I probably won’t be able to come myself. I have a lamentably full schedule tomorrow.”
“That’s for the best. It will be chaos in this room when I knock out the wall between the showroom and the side parlor. This is no place for young ladieswearing costly finery. You wouldn’t want to dirty your fine frock. And those flimsy slippers wouldn’t protect your toes from much of anything.”
“I quite agree. These heeled slippers make my ankles wobble precariously. I always wore sturdy footwear in Cornwall. The next time I visit the bookshop, I’ll wear something more practical, I promise.”
The next time she visited? He’d thought she’d give him a wide berth in the short time he had to complete the demanding job. “It might be best if you stayed away from the shop while I do the worst of the demolition and repairs.”
“Ah... but you never let me have a moment’s worth of peace in the library in Cornwall. Why should I humor you now?”
“This is an entirely different situation. You’re the one employing me, and I’ll finish more swiftly if I’m allowed to work unimpeded.”
The last thing Ford needed when he was trying to finish a project swiftly was a privileged, opinionated lady telling him what to do, attempting to help, and making everything more difficult.
“Now you know how I felt in Cornwall, Wright. I’m sorry if my presence will incommode you but I bargained with my mother for the chance to escape her ministrations and spend time in the relative freedom of this shop, and I plan to be here as often as possible. I’ll do my best not to disturb you.”
If she kept removing her clothing in that unintentionally sensual way, there was small chance of that.
“Who knows? I might even be of use to you in your endeavors, Mr. Wright. I may not be broad of shoulder, but I know my mind to be a formidabletool. I shall read a reference book on the subject of carpentry and form my own opinions on the most efficacious and efficient methods for the swift transmogrification of this shop.”
That sounded ominous. “How about if I don’t tell you how to write a dictionary if you don’t tell me how to carpenter.”
“But youdidtell me how to write a dictionary, don’t you remember? You said it wouldn’t be profitable unless it was fun.”
Ford and his big mouth. “I was only joking.”
“My friends agreed with you, and so there may be some merit to what you said. It’s true that Samuel Johnson infused humor into hisDictionary of the English Language. For example, he defined a lexicographer as a ‘harmless drudge that busies himself in tracing the original and detailing the signification of words.’ It was his sly moments of humor that made his dictionary a success.”
“I don’t know anything about Samuel Johnson, but it’s true that everything’s better with laughter.”
“I also find it interesting that your critique of my dictionary was based not on its unsuitability as a female pursuit, but on its lack of humor. Most people, my mother chief and foremost, belittle and criticize my endeavor on more conventional grounds.”
“I don’t see why females shouldn’t write dictionaries. But I also don’t see why they shouldn’t write dictionaries that might make them some profit in the process.”
She gave a sharp little nod. “Agreed.”
“Just because you’re taking my advice doesn’t mean that I welcome your thoughts on carpentry. Ihave less than a fortnight and I know exactly how to accomplish what needs to be done. I won’t require your help.”
She shrugged. “Very well. But I’ll still be here as often as possible to inventory the books and escape my mother.”
She went back to perusing the bookshelves and he began examining the shop counter, to see how it was constructed.
She stole glances at him from under her lashes. Just as it had in Cornwall, her gaze made him want to impress her with his brute strength. He lifted a heavy oak lectern and moved it into the corner of the room. He’d have to move all the furniture out of the way when he knocked down the wall to enlarge the room.
She selected a book and curled up in a chair, tucking her feet underneath her. He imagined that was how she spent a good part of her days, and evenings, when her mother wasn’t pushing her into society.
“I nearly forgot—I brought you this.” She opened her silk handbag and pulled out a book. “It’s the second in the Villeneuve series afterThe Mad Marquess’s Secret. It’s calledThe Wicked Earl’s Wishes. I thought you might like to read this one since you appeared to enjoy the first in the series.”
“It had its moments. Though I won’t have time for reading.”
“Keep it by your bedside. I have several copies so you needn’t finish it before you leave London.”
