Page 88 of Bookshop Cinderella

“Well, that’s a relief.”

It ought to have been, of course, but sadly, it wasn’t. The only effect his absence from her life was having on her was to make her depressed, and she reached for another chocolate.

“The papers are speculating that he may begin paying his addresses to Lady Helen again soon,” she said, pouring salt in her own wounds. “‘But will the auburn-haired beauty forgive his transgressions?’” she quoted gloomily. “‘Will she take him back?’”

As she spoke, a shaft of raw jealousy pierced her heart like an arrow, and she shoved the chocolate into her mouth, reminding herself as she ate it that she had no right to be jealous. She meant what she’d said to him. She wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to find someone else, someone perfect for him.

If you refuse me, I will eventually have to find someone else to wed.

“How do you know what the papers are saying?” Anna asked, forcing Max’s voice out of Evie’s head. “I thought you weren’t reading them.”

Caught, she wriggled guiltily beneath her friend’s mild stare. “It’s impossible not to see the headlines as I go shopping,” she muttered, refusing to admit she’d done far more than glance at the headlines during the past five days. “The newsstand is right there, you know, between the grocer and the bakery.”

“Of course,” Anna said gravely.

“The point is,” Evie said, giving her friend a look of reproof, “it would be a suitable match.”

“Most suitable.”

A loud knock sounded from the shop below before Evie could list any more reasons why there was no possibility of reconsidering her decision. “His family and friends would certainly approve,” she went on, ignoring it, “which they’d never do if he married me—”

The knock came again, louder this time, and Anna gestured to the open doorway of the flat. “Shouldn’t you go down and see who it is?”

“No need. I closed for the day and put the sign up.”

“Yes, but...” She paused, then added gently, “It could be the duke.”

Hope leapt in her chest and dread knotted her stomach, but she shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It’s probably a reporter.”

This time, the knock was an absolute pounding, and Anna ate the last bite of her sandwich, brushed the crumbs from her fingers, and rose from the settee. “Whoever it is, I’ll send them away. You stay here and have your tea.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

“What are friends for?” she asked as she left the sitting room and started down the stairs to the bookshop. Evie waited, listening, and when she heard the low murmur of a masculine voice, her hope and her dread both rose in equal measure.

What if it was him? What if, despite what the papers said, he was here to try again? She’d have to refuse him a second time, and after five agonizing days she wasn’t at all sure she could remain steadfast.

She’d done the right thing. Hadn’t she?

Evie closed her eyes.Go away, Max, she prayed.Please, go away.

Anna’s steps sounded on the stairs, and Evie opened her eyes, reaching for Margery’s letter, pretending to read it as her friend reentered the flat.

“It’s not the duke,” Anna told her.

Hope and dread both died. “So, I was right then?” she said flatly. “A reporter.”

But to her surprise, Anna shook her head. “It’s Rory. He wants to see you, insists upon it. He’s waiting below.”

“Rory?” She felt a pang of conscience, remembering that he had come to the shop asking about her more than once, and though she’d meant to dash off a letter to his lodging house, what with the house party and everything that had happened since, she’d forgotten all about him. “I’ll go down at once.”

“I’ll come with you,” Anna said, following her as she started for the door. “I ought to be going back to the shop anyway. We’re open until eight tonight, and I’ve left Clarence on his own. He’s probably eaten all the caramels in the shop by now.”

Rory was lounging against one of the bookshelves by the front as she and Anna entered the shop. He straightened at once, giving Anna a nod as she passed him on her way out.

“Rory, this is a nice surprise,” Evie said, moving to stand opposite him as Anna closed the door behind her. “I heard you called a few times. But I’ve been—”

She stopped, appreciating that he, along with everyone else in London, probably knew the reason she’d been busy. “I’ve been away,” she said instead.

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