Page 110 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
He hated the thought. Hated that his past was causing her distress. He should never have let her leave. He should have taken her into his arms and held her until she calmed.
“Where is Lady Longley?” Lady Drake asked.
Andrew buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know. She left. She said she needed to think. But I don’t know where she would have gone.”
“Has she told you any places she likes to go in order to clear her head?” Lady Drake asked.
“No. I’ve already considered the options. She won’t have gone to her parents’ house, and she’s never mentioned any particular friends.”
“What about places she enjoys visiting?” Lady Drake straightened. “The park, perhaps. Or is there anywhere she likes to go to write or read?”
Andrew snapped his fingers. “The bookshop! That one I took her to after we married. Babbles, was it? No… Babbington Books. She loves it there. I should go.”
He stood.
“No,” she said sharply. “Let me go.”
“What?” He didn’t understand. “I’m the one who sent her running, so I’m the one who should go after her.”
She pulled a face. “As far as she’s concerned, you’re the one who hurt her. Or at least, it’s partially your fault that she is hurting. She’s more likely to open up to me.”
He bit back a sound of frustration. He understood, but he didn’t like it. “Please bring my wife home.”
CHAPTER 26
Amelia pickedup the book and flipped through its pages, realizing too late that it was a romance. Sweet dialogue blurred in front of her eyes as tears filled them.
Even here, in a place that should be a sanctuary, she couldn’t escape love.
“Excuse me, my lady,” the proprietress, Mrs. Babbington, said, touching Amelia’s shoulder. “Are you all right? You seem upset.”
“Ugh, I am fine,” Amelia said. “I think I got some dust in my eye.”
“I am so sorry to hear that.” Mrs. Babbington hesitated. “I find when I get dust in my eye, it sometimes feels better if I talk about it with someone. Do you think that might also be the case for you?”
Amelia sniffled. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Hmm. Maybe so. How is your book coming along?”
Amelia dabbed the corners of her eyes. “I finished another story.”
“Very good. I look forward to reading it. Have you sent it to the publisher?”
Amelia nodded.
Mrs. Babbington’s lips firmed. “Did they turn you down?”
“I haven’t heard back yet.” Although she did have to wonder whether publishers listened to rumors. Would this knock to her reputation damage her ability to publish her stories?
Surely not. Plenty of writers were controversial characters or not part of high society.
“So, perhaps it’s man trouble that brings you here?” Mrs. Babbington suggested.
Amelia’s instinctive response was to say no, but part of her thought it might be nice to have someone to listen.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Mrs. Babbington tutted. “Why don’t you come into the back room with me? We can have a glass of sherry, and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”
