Page 8 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
“Aye, but we’re no’ home at our usual time, so he came looking for us. I figured he would and was keepin’ an eye out for him.” He clucked to the horse and moved back into the traffic. “Down, Mac.” The dog immediately nestled in the corner of the cart behind Fin.
“When we reach Alston, I need to stop at the butcher. I’ve already placed my order, so it willna take long.”
They finally stopped in front of Books and Bits on Alston, the main thoroughfare of Grahamston. Other businesses and homes lined both sides of the street. Annis gathered her wrapped meat and waited for Fin to help her down. Not that she needed assistance, but it was a good reminder for her son to play the gallant. She looked up at the narrow three-story building constructed of red brick. Home. The Highlands might be her birthplace, her childhood home, but this neighborhood, this building, was where she belonged. The faint musty smell of books mixed with lavender and vanilla greeted her as she pushed open the door.
“Come right home from the livery after ye’ve taken care of the horse. I’ll need yer help fixing the meal.” She watched as Mac jumped onto the seat beside Fin, taking her place. Fin went to pet him, then pulled back, a look of disgust on his face.
“Fish, I think, to answer yer question, Ma.”
“Then clean him up before ye bring him in.” Annis chuckled as she closed the door and made her way through the shop, surveying each shelf or curio cabinet with a glance and mentally noting what to order at the end of the month. The front section of the store had two levels, with educational, travel, and history books on the lower, fiction and romance on the upper.
In the center of the shop, gleaming oak tables were placed on patterned Wilton rugs, flanked by matching stools, to allow customers to peruse their prospective purchases. The tables were round to minimize space, in addition to encouraging customers to browse. Each week, she changed up the reading selections set out among the small groupings but kept the same subjects. The agriculture table may focus on crop rotation one week and animal husbandry the next. Science might include mathematical or astronomy texts. It really depended on her mood. And of course, the fashion table with the latest copies of La Belle Assemblée, Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, Le Beau Monde, and the Lady’s Monthly Museum.
Stopping at the counter at the far side of the rectangular room, she checked her list of borrowed books and made a list of what notices needed to be sent out. On either side of her, a spiral staircase wound its way up to the second level which flanked the central shop area. There were narrow balconies of the same lustrous oak, with stools placed at intervals and a small stepladder leaning against the end of each corridor. Unable to curb the smile, Annis leaned her back against the counter and sighed, letting her gaze drift over the entire store. Besides the tomes, there were stationery items for writing and office supplies, watercolors by Scottish artists on the front and back walls, and two shelves with edible treats including lemon drops, licorice or mint discs, and jumbles or macaroons which could be purchased with tea. Below these sweetmeats resided the children’s books.
Oh, how she loved this magical place. It held the knowledge of centuries and the hearts of thousands. Books were reliable friends that never betrayed. Working here had helped her through a difficult time, ensured her ability to raise her son, and filled her soul with contentment. Considering how her life had taken a turn at eighteen, she found her situation incredibly fortunate. Aileen Douglas had been an angel sent from heaven, and this store was Annis’s redemption.
“Oh, Annis, I wish I could cook Colin’s favorites as well as you do,” Rose LaCross said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She was a beautiful woman with thick, wavy black hair and sepia-brown eyes. Her warm, tawny skin tone reflected both her French and Romani heritage. Annis thought she and Colin made a stunning couple with their dark good looks.
“I could teach ye,” Annis offered. “The only problem is I do most of it without thinking, never follow a recipe. My ma taught me, and my grandmother taught my ma. It’s a pinch of this and a sprig of that, salt to taste?—”
“Beyond my comprehension.” Rose laughed. “Fortunately, Colin never needs to suffer through my poor attempts. Either he eats with Aileen and I, or the cook at his townhouse works her magic. If you ever have the taste for a French dish, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Ye have plenty of other talents, love,” he said softly, his deep-blue eyes shining with affection. “Ye have a voice the angels envy.”
Rose blushed and waved a dismissive hand at him. She had arrived in Glasgow as a lady’s maid. Her mistress, Fenella, had arranged a long visit with her grandmother, Aileen Douglas. When Fenella had gone to work for the mill, keeping their ledgers, she had fallen in love with Colin’s cousin and then-supervisor of the mill, Lachlan MacNaughton. When the pair wed, Rose had stayed rather than return to England. Aileen had been more than happy to have a companion after her granddaughter married, so Rose had remained with Mrs. Douglas.
Colin plopped a kiss on Rose’s cheek. “But she’s right, Cousin. Ye’re a magical faerie in the kitchen. Except for?—”
“Shortbread. Yes, I ken. Ye’ve told me that fact a few times.” Annis pushed away her own plate. “I canna eat another bite.”
“But what about the berries and clotted cream?” asked a worried Fin.
Annis reached up and tousled his light-brown hair. “I’m sure ye and Colin can manage without me. Rose?”
She shook her head. “If I attempt it, Colin could just position me at the top of the stairs, give me a push, and let me roll to the bottom.”
Both Colin and Fin let out a guffaw. “I’d carry ye down first. Now, Fin. Let’s give the women a chance to settle their meal, and we’ll get the sweets from the kitchen.”
When they were alone, Rose fiddled with the stem of her wine glass. “I was wondering, Annis, if we could have tea sometime soon.”
Annis wondered why her friend seemed uncomfortable. She hurried to put her at ease. “Of course. You and Colin?—”
“Just us.” Rose’s cheeks pinked. “I mean, I need to ask your opinion on a matter about Colin. I cannot ask Fenella or Lachlan, for they’re too close to both of us. I believe you would be more objective.”
That caught Annis’s attention. Would she find out why this perfectly made-for-each-other couple were not wed? She was positive the hesitation wasn’t from Colin.
“Of course,” she answered. “I’m happy to meet ye anytime. Ye could even drop into the shop. I keep tea and chocolate as ye ken, and ye could look for a new novel.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“We’re friends, Rose. I’ll help ye however I can.”
“Ye’re almost out of scotch,” called Colin from the kitchen.
“Then ye better bring more on yer next visit. Ye’re the only one who drinks it,” she called back.
The two males appeared at the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in Colin’s hands, and berries and a pitcher of cream in Fin’s. She could tell by her son’s flushed cheeks he’d had a “nip” with his cousin. “Finlay Robert Porter, ye best no’ be drinking under my roof.”
