Page 16 of The Midnight Book Club
“Thank you,” Aurelia said, trying to keep the quaver from her voice as she stared at the two men in front of her.“Are all of you fromThe Moonstone, then?But no, that can’t be right.”
She once again took in the varying costumes—clothes, she corrected herself—of the people gathered in the shop.Some of them were clearly from a different period thanThe Moonstone’s mid-nineteenth-century setting.
“No, miss.As you guessed, that is not the case.I am from that novel, along with Rachel.Others are from their own novels.”
Aurelia looked around the shop, trying to place each individual in their literary home.Those two women chatting together on the mezzanine: they looked like they were from a Jane Austen novel, but which one?That man with the tumble of curly brown hair wearing the stylish frock coat: he kept mentioning someone named Joe and seemed to have a different accent—American?—but Aurelia couldn’t place him.And the man in uniform—he was still a mystery.If she really was surrounded by characters, which book was his?
Catching her eye, the uniformed man quirked an eyebrow at her.
“It is a unique circumstance, is it not?”he asked.“I myself was amazed to learn of it.”
Recognition was beginning to dawn on her—his manners, his demeanor—yet still she couldn’t put her finger on who he was.He had a stiff way of standing that suggested military service but also had the casual, confident air of someone who felt at home wherever he went.Aurelia’s curiosity got the better of her.
“I’m Aurelia Lyndham.And you are?”
He reached out his hand in greeting.Remembering the stapler still clutched in her grip, Aurelia quickly deposited it on the desk, then lifted her hand to his.But rather than shake her hand, he bowed and made as if to pull it to his lips.To their mutual surprise, however, his hand moved through hers, momentarily dissolving into a misty cloud of white studded with a swirl of what looked like printed black words before seeming to become solid once again.
A gasp caught in Aurelia’s throat as she looked from the man’s hand to his face.Another disappearing hand!Although, unlike last night, the uniformed man appeared just as astonished as Aurelia to have seen his hand disappear.Again, he tried grasping her hand, but again his hand passed through hers, dissolving and reforming as if he were made of vapor and air.They stared at each other; despite what she had just seen, he looked as solid as she was.
“Have you never been in the shop before, sir?”Cuff asked.
“No, this is my first visit to this establishment.”
“Then I shall explain one of its unique features,” said Cuff.“We are never able to touch or manipulate persons or things which do not come forth from books, as we ourselves do.”
The man in uniform cast a glance at Sergeant Cuff, looking like he preferred to be the person delivering information rather than the one receiving it.
Aurelia’s hand flew to her mouth—she knew exactly who he was.
“Vronsky?Count Vronsky?”Aurelia’s voice came out in a whisper.“FromAnna Karenina?”
“How intriguing that you seem to know me, madame, when I am only just making your acquaintance.”He again quirked one of his dark eyebrows at Aurelia as she looked him up and down.Her face drained of color and she lost her balance.
“Please, Miss Lyndham, let me help you to your chair.You look as though you have taken ill.”
He tried to guide her to the desk chair, only to recall—as his arm passed through her—that he couldn’t.Instead, he pointed at her chair, which was a few steps away.Aurelia backed slowly toward it and plopped down.She hadn’t stopped staring at him and he was starting to look uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry.I think I’m alright now, thank you.”Aurelia took a few deep breaths before adding, “That was very… Victorian of me.”
“Victorian?”
“Fainting couches, the vapors, and all that.”She waved her hand vaguely.“Are you… Are youreallyCount Alexei Vronsky?”
“I am indeed.It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”He straightened to his full height and inclined his head to her again.“I take it my reputation precedes me, as usual?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Aurelia mumbled.
“I hope you have only heard of my best attributes and qualities.Any ill ones I deny wholeheartedly,” he said, his face lighting up with a smile.
“I… It’s just that—”
Aurelia shook her head, muddled at how to put into words everything she felt about him and his novel.How could she explain that she felt like she knew him, like they were friends?She knew more about his thoughts and feelings than David’s, and they’d been friends for ages.But she was saved from having to explain herself when the man with abundant curly hair and an older woman in a brown muslin dress approached the desk.
“Pardon our interruption, miss, but we hoped to introduce ourselves as well.”The man made a short bow, and the woman dipped into a brief curtsy.
Aurelia stood to greet them.
“Hello, I’m Aurelia Lyndham.”
