Page 50 of Bookshop Cinderella

“I do, yes. What about you?”

“Me?” He blinked, startled. “God, no. My father would never allow that.”

“What won’t I allow?” Colonel Anstruther broke in, joining them.

“I was just telling Miss Harlow that I’d never be allowed to lease a flat of my own. You’d cut off my allowance in a heartbeat if I ever tried.”

Ronald’s voice was careless, but Evie thought she detected a hint of resentment beneath the easy reply.

If there was any, Colonel Anstruther didn’t seem to notice it. “Quite right,” he said staunchly. “It might be a necessity for Miss Harlow, here, though I’m not sure why old Merrivale hasn’t put a stop to it, my dear,” he added to her, “and brought you under his roof.”

Evie forced a smile. “I haven’t given him the choice,” she said lightly. “I own a bookstore, Colonel Anstruther, and it enables me to support myself.”

“Yourself?” He frowned a little, not seeming to like that answer. “Well, well,” he said heartily as the other three joined them, “living in a flat with a latchkey wouldn’t do for a daughter of mine, but I suppose old Merrivale’s got his reasons for giving you your head, letting you be a gadabout and one of these New Women.”

“But, Papa,” Ronald said, “all the New Women seem to wear Turkish trousers and ride bicycles. Miss Harlow here, by contrast, is very clearly wearing a dress.”

“Don’t be impudent, Ronald,” Mrs. Anstruther chided her son. “I’m sure Miss Harlow wouldn’t dream of wearing trousers.”

“Well,” Evie clarified, “not to the theater anyway.”

“And the bicycle?” asked the duke as everyone laughed. “Would you ride one?”

“I’d adore it, if I knew how,” she answered at once. “But what I would really love to do is learn to drive a motorcar.”

“A motorcar?” Colonel Anstruther’s voice was incredulous. “Impossible, Miss Harlow. You are a young lady.”

“Really, George, you are so old-fashioned,” his wife put in. Turning to Evie, she went on, “My husband thinks for a lady to drive anything but a pony trap along a country lane is shocking beyond belief. Don’t pay him any mind, my dear.”

A gong sounded before either her husband or Evie could reply, and Mrs. Anstruther gave a vexed exclamation. “Heavens, is intermission over already? We must return to our seats. Miss Harlow, Mrs. Banks, we’re adjourning to supper at the Savoy afterward, and though Westbourne has another engagement, perhaps the two of you would care to join us? We’d be happy to take you in our carriage.”

Evie looked at Anna, who gave a nod, then she said, “We’d be delighted to come. Thank you.”

“That’s settled, then. We’ll come fetch you once the curtain comes down, and now, we simply must toddle.”

The Anstruthers duly toddled, and Westbourne turned to Evie and Anna. “I must go as well, I’m afraid, or my companions will wonder what on earth’s become of me.” He bowed. “Mrs. Banks, Miss Harlow. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your evening. Good night.”

He departed, following the Anstruthers out the door, leaving Evie and Anna alone again.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Evie,” her friend murmured as they resumed their seats.

“About what?” Evie asked, reaching for her opera glasses.

“You never mentioned how good looking he is.”

Evie froze, her hand tightening around the glasses as the memory of the moment when she’d made that rather shattering discovery flashed through her mind, a moment of shared intimacy she’d been unable to voice aloud, even to her best friend. “How could I?” she countered, unfolding the glasses and turning her attention to the boxes around them and the stage below. “I met Ronald Anstruther at the same time you did.”

Her reward for this transparent prevarication was a gentle sideways kick. “I’m not talking about him, and you know it, so don’t be coy.”

“Oh.” Evie perched the glasses on her nose. “You mean the duke.”

“Who else would I mean but the duke?” she confirmed. “Yes, the tall, dark, absolutely gorgeous duke whose smile could charm the ink off paper.”

Evie felt Anna’s assessing gaze on her, but she didn’t turn her head. “He’s handsome enough, I suppose,” she said, working to don an air of supreme indifference. “But considering the fact that he decided I’m in need of sprucing up in order to become attractive, I’m not so sure about his charm.”

“Tell it to the marines!” Anna scoffed. “They might believe you, but I don’t. You told me he stood up for you to his friends. He wouldn’t have done that,” she added as Evie made a sound of aggravation, “if he didn’t find you attractive himself.”

At those words, Evie felt a faint, answering thrill, but when she spoke, she kept any hint of it out of her voice. “Either way, why does it matter how good looking he is?”

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