Page 64 of A Rogue to Ruin
He couldn’t help but laugh. Then he steered the conversation to their upcoming visit with Annie and whether Anne had already finished the book about Greek mythology.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Annie.”
He couldn’t imagine she would ever disappoint anyone.
When they arrived at the bookshop, Rafe gave the cabriolet over to the tiger, who went to park in Warwick Lane. Rafe guided Anne into the shop where she pulled the veil from her face, flipping it up over her bonnet.
“Oh, I’m taking this thing off,” she muttered, removing the hat.
John greeted them warmly.
Anne looked about. “Where is Annie?”
“She’ll be here presently,” John said.
Annie dashed from the back of the shop, looking much tidier than she had on their first meeting. She sent a cautious glance toward Rafe before settling her attention on Anne with a smile. “Good afternoon.”
Anne gave her a broad smile. “Good afternoon, Annie. I’m so pleased to see you again. How have you settled in here?”
“Quite well, thank you.”
“Wonderful.” Anne held out the wrapped pillow. “I brought you this for your room.”
Her eyes lighting, Annie’s mouth formed a small O as she accepted the package. “Thank you.”
“Go on, open it,” Anne encouraged with a smile.
Annie carefully tore the paper away and exposed the small ivory pillow. Colorful embroidered books of varying sizes marched along the edges. “It’s so beautiful.” She lifted her gaze to Anne’s. “I’ve never owned anything so lovely.”
“Well, you do now,” Anne said matter-of-factly. “Did you read the book so we may discuss it?”
Annie blinked as if she was having a hard time, and Rafe knew she must. To be the recipient of so much kindness and generosity after what she was used to was almost unbelievable. “I did. I thought we might go to the back of the shop.”
Anne looked toward Rafe. “Should Mr. Mallory join us?”
A look of distress creased Annie’s features. “Is that your name?”
Rafe exhaled. The child ought to know him as Mr. Bowles, but it was likely she also knew him as Mr. Blackwell if anyone had told her who he used to be. Several of the folks on Paternoster Row had met him as Rafe Blackwell. Indeed, John sometimes had trouble thinking of him as Bowles.
That was the problem with changing your name and not severing ties with everyone who knew you as the previous name. This bookshop was the one constant from when he’d been Blackwell and then Bowles. He’d divested everything as Blackwell over the past few years and replaced them with Mr. Bowles’ interests. Now he was on the verge of changing his identity yet again, but he didn’t need to hide that he’d been Mr. Bowles. Furthermore, that would be impossible since that was how he’d been introduced to Society.
“I am actually Lord Stone,” Rafe said. “Or I shall be, perhaps by the end of the week.” He’d explained the revelation to John when he’d stopped by the shop Saturday afternoon.
Annie’s eyes rounded. “A lord?” She looked to Anne. “Er, I don’t know how to curtsey.”
“I can teach you, if you’d like,” Anne said. “Come, show me to the back, and we’ll have a lesson.”
Nodding shyly, Annie clutched the pillow to her chest and led her toward the rear of the shop. Anne cast a look at Rafe over her shoulder, silently asking if he was coming.
“I’ll be along shortly,” he said before turning to John. “I see she’s wearing the clothes I brought on Saturday.”
“Indeed. She was most grateful. Please thank your sister.”
Selina had gathered the clothing for him and been pleased to do so. Rafe took a step toward the back to join the ladies.
“Ah, you should be aware that there is something…afoot back there,” John said, his brows climbing.
“What’s that?”
