Page 87 of Bookshop Cinderella

She became the favorite topic of the gutter press, not justTalk of the Town, but all the other scandal sheets as well, and though she had resolved to avoid reading them, it had been impossible not to give in to the morbid impulse to read what they were saying. Every time her curiosity got the better of her, she’d regretted it, of course. The things they said about her both enraged and sickened her.

Even harder to avoid than the papers were the so-called journalists themselves, for in their efforts to dig up more dirt on the duke’s mistress, they came into the bookshop, hounding her with questions, ignoring her prim refusals to comment. They grilled Anna in the confectionery, and they cornered poor Clarence in the alley when he took out the rubbish. They even hounded members of her family.

“‘The reporters torment us daily,’” she read aloud from Margery’s latest letter as she and Anna had tea together in the sitting room of her flat. “‘It has become such a trial for us that I fear Harold and I will have to take the children and go to the seaside to get away from them.’”

She broke off, rolling her eyes with a sound of exasperation. “Poor Margery, to be forced to take a holiday by the sea. How will she stand the suffering?”

Anna smiled and held up the plate of chocolates she’d brought to share. “Your cousin is nothing if not self-absorbed.”

“To say the least.” Evie took a violet cream from the plate and popped it into her mouth as she resumed reading. “‘Lord Merrivale is beside himself at the shame brought upon our family,’” she continued around a mouthful of chocolate. “‘He talks of confronting the duke directly and demanding he do right by you.’”

Evie stopped reading and looked up in horror. “Oh, God, I hope she’s not serious.”

“Would—” Anna broke off, biting her lip, her cornflower-blue eyes meeting Evie’s. “Would that be such a bad thing?” she asked after a moment. “It might at least force Merrivale to stand by you.”

“Or just the opposite,” Evie muttered, making a face. “Max would have to tell him he already proposed to me, and that I refused him, and then Merrivale would come here, blustering and shouting and trying to bully me into accepting him. Or worse, he’ll send Aunt Minnie, who will sob and wail about my shame and how I’ve disgraced us all. And when I remain adamant, they’ll probably write me off as a lost cause and abandon me altogether. Not that I’d notice, given the amount of attention they’ve paid me in the past.”

Anna said nothing, merely looking at her with those placid, angelic blue eyes, and yetEvie felt immediately defensive. “Don’t you start,” she begged. “I couldn’t bear a lecture. Not from you. I’ve had enough recriminations from Margery the past few days.”

“I would never presume to lecture you, dearest.”

“But you think I was wrong to refuse him?”

Anna shook her head. “That’s not for me to say.”

“I don’t want to be a duchess.”

“An understandable point of view. It would be a tremendous responsibility.”

“Exactly,” she said, relieved that Anna understood. “Running charities and committees, organizing fetes and church bazaars and flower shows—I’ve no experience with any of that. I’d be lost.”

“Quite so,” Anna replied. “Running your own business has been so much easier.”

Suspecting sarcasm, Evie shot her a sharp glance, but Anna wasn’t even looking at her. She was occupied with surveying the sandwiches on the tea tray.

“You can’t seriously think to compare the two,” she cried, her defensiveness growing. “My little bookshop is nothing compared to what I’d be doing. I’d have to play hostess to kings and diplomats. I’d be in the public eye every moment, with journalists waiting to pounce on the jumped-up slut from the trades the moment I make the slightest mistake. And if all that’s not enough,” she went on in the wake of her friend’s silence, “I don’t know a thing about country life. Tenant farming, and cricket matches, and point-to-points? I don’t know how to play cricket and I’ve never even ridden a horse!”

“I think only the men play cricket, dearest.”

“That’s not the point! You should have seen his house, Anna. It’s like a palace. Miles long in every direction. I got lost more than once navigating my way through it. And he’s got half a dozen more houses scattered all over England. How could I ever run all that?”

“It would be intimidating,” Anna agreed, selecting a sandwich. “His first wife was completely overwhelmed, from what you told me.”

“And who could blame her? I’d be the same—supervising hundreds of servants whose backgrounds probably aren’t much different from mine. They wouldn’t respect me. I doubt they’d do a thing I say.”

“You’d have to earn their respect, certainly. Very few women of our circle could manage it.”

“Damn it, Anna,” she muttered, growing irritated, “stop agreeing with me. The more you agree with me, the more unsettled I feel.”

Anna smiled. “I don’t mean to be the cause of your doubts. That is,” she added, shooting Evie a pointed glance, “if you’re having doubts.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s good.” Anna leaned back and began to eat her sandwich. “After all,” she said between bites, “ithardly matters, since it’s all over and done with.”

This isn’t over, Evie. Not by a long chalk.

“Quite over,” she agreed firmly. “He’s hosting some big dinner party at the Savoy tonight, so he clearly isn’t pining away for me,” she went on, a fact that demonstrated Max’s vow not to give up had been nothing but empty words. “He hasn’t tried to see me. He hasn’t even written me a note.”

---