Page 26 of Bookshop Cinderella

“Prefer the Savoy, do you?”

“That was part of your proposition, if I remember correctly?”

“It was,” he assured as he tucked the note back into his pocket. “A suite and all the room service you like. Just give me a few hours to make the arrangements, then I shall send a cab around to fetch you and your things. I shouldn’t advise bringing too much luggage, since you will be visiting a modiste straightaway. You’ll want some amusements while we wait for Delia to return, of course—the theater, ballet, the opera, and such. Simply inform me of any performance you might wish to see, and I will arrange for tickets. Remember, since Delia’s not here, and I can’t escort you anywhere, you’ll need someone to go with you.”

“Not Cousin Margery, please.”

He grinned. “No, not Margery. Not if you don’t wish it. Do you have a married friend or two who can accompany you?”

She considered for a moment. “I suppose Anna could come with me. She’s a widow.”

“She’ll do nicely, then. If you want any other friends, feel free to include them.”

She bit her lip, eyeing him with doubt. “This all sounds terribly expensive.”

“I already told you, I shall stand every penny of the expense. But if that doesn’t suit you,” he added as she started to protest, “we will use the winnings to pay the expenses. A hundred pounds will be more than enough.”

“And if we lose?”

“We won’t lose, but if we do, I will simply expect impeccable service when I need to acquire any additional rare books for my library.”

“You have a library?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Well, yes, actually. The other day, I heard you admit to your friends that a bookshop isn’t where you could usually be found.”

“I do wish you’d stop calling them my friends. They are mere acquaintances. But they were right to say that I don’t frequent bookstores as a rule. If I want a book, I simply order it and have a footman pick it up.”

“Ducal privilege?”

“No, I simply detest shopping.”

She laughed. “Then I shall be happy to assist you with your literary requirements. Still, to return to the point, it would be absurd to think of that as repayment for all this.”

“Miss Harlow, please stop. This is a sporting wager. Repayment is not necessary.”

She shook her head, laughing a little. “You aristocrats astonish me. It seems madly extravagant to spend so much just for a wager of one hundred pounds. Even if you win, you won’t profit much by it.”

“Monetarily, no, but there are other compensations.”

“Such as?”

Unbidden, an image came into his head of Miss Harlow, her hair piled up high on her head, candlelight shining on the mink-brown strands, dark circles and worry lines soothed away from her face, her slim figure in a provocatively low-cut gown, jewels nestled in the cleft between small, perfect breasts—

“Your Grace?”

Appreciating the unexpectedly erotic direction his thoughts had taken, Max blinked, dissolving the picture. “Sorry, I...ahem...” He paused, pushing carnal masculine imaginings out of his mind. “I consider it money well spent. I appreciate your pride, and it does you credit, but please do not allow that, or any sense of propriety, to deprive me of the enjoyment I shall feel at watching Freddie taken down a notch or two. In addition, he’ll be forced to behave himself, which will be good for him and will please his sister, Helen, who is a charming girl, and a friend of mine—”

“Friend?”

The question made him laugh. “You needn’t sound so surprised. I do have friends, you know. Including you, I might add.”

“I would not call you a friend yet,” she couldn’t resist pointing out. “I hardly know you. And to be honest, I’m not sure I even like you.”

“Evie, that’s not fair. I put that wretched Mr. Walpole in his place for you, didn’t I? Come now, that’s the start of a friendship, surely?”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But,” she added before he could rest on his laurels there, “I didn’t give you leave to call me Evie. The cheek!”

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