Page 63 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
“Are you sure I’m welcome here?” she asked.
Not all bookstores liked female patrons.
He grinned. “Quite. You’ll see what I mean once we’re inside.”
Intrigued, she allowed him to guide her through the doorway. A bell tinkled, and a curvaceous woman with long, dark hair appeared in front of them.
“Welcome to Babbington’s,” she said. “May I help you?”
Amelia’s jaw dropped. “Do you work here?”
The woman smoothed her hands down her dress. “This is my shop.”
“It’s wonderful,” Amelia breathed. “I can already tell I’m going to love it.”
The proprietress smiled. “I hope so.”
“I’m Mi—Lady Longley,” she corrected herself. “This is my husband, the Earl of Longley.”
The proprietress curtsied. “A pleasure to meet you, mylady. I’m Mrs. Babbington. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“I love to read,” Amelia admitted. “Tales of adventure, in particular.”
Andrew nudged her. “You do more than just read.”
Her cheeks heated, and she darted a look at him. He wasn’t suggesting she disclose her writing habit, was he? He’d implied that he wouldn’t be embarrassed by her behavior, but she hadn’t dared imagine he’d encourage her to discuss it with others.
Nibbling on her lower lip, she tried to quell the nerves rioting through her. “I’m a writer too.” The statement was almost whispered. “I recently submitted an adventure novel to a publisher. The protagonist is a woman.”
Mrs. Babbington’s face lit up, her dark eyes dancing with excitement. “How wonderful. I hope they accept it. I would love to read it.”
Amelia shifted her weight. “Really?”
Mrs. Babbington nodded. “So many adventure stories are for men. It’s about time we women had one, isn’t it?”
“Exactly my thinking!”
“Tell me more about your story.”
Amelia launched into a recounting of the highlights. Mrs. Babbington peppered her with intelligent questions, her eyes gleaming with interest.
Before she realized it, an hour had passed, and they were still hovering in the aisle between the shelves. Andrew stood silently beside them, having uttered very little since their conversation began.
Oh dear. They’d probably bored him out of his wits.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, turning to him. “I’m afraid that time got away from me.”
Mrs. Babbington’s eyes widened as she also checked the clock. “I’ve monopolized you terribly. My apologies, Lord Longley.”
But Andrew just shook his head, his expression completely unbothered. “I’ve enjoyed listening to you. Please don’t rush on my account.”
Mrs. Babbington’s skirts swished as she paced farther down the aisle. “Let me show you some books I think you’ll like.”
With a quick glance to make sure that her husband wasn’t upset, Amelia followed her.
Once again, it was all too easy for them to get lost in discussion of their favorite books. When she and Andrew emerged into daylight a while later, he was carrying a stack of books that were wrapped in paper for the journey, including her own brand-new illustrated world atlas, since she’d had to leave her parents’ one at their home.
They’d declined having them delivered because she simply couldn’t bear to part with them. Even though she knew her own money had bought these books, she still felt spoiled as Andrew stacked them on the bench in the carriage and rested his hand atop them to ensure they didn’t fall over during the ride.
