Page 46 of Embracing the Earl (The St. Clairs 3)

Chapter Fifteen

Caroline’s mind wandered.Her eyes felt grainy from lack of sleep. She’d tossed and turned all night long, thinking of the kiss she and Luke had shared.

Why had he stopped?

He’d told her. She just had trouble accepting his reason.

Because they were... friends.

He’d said he’d taken advantage of her and valued their friendship. That he’d never compromise her.

Frustration filled her.She’dbeen the one who’d taken advantage of him. She knew he was trying to comfort her with an innocent, brief kiss. She was the one who’d felt desire flame within her. And she was the one who turned the kiss from sweet to one full of heat. Even now, her blood sang with his name.

How would she live with the fact that he only wanted to be friends? Was it even possible for men and women to be friends, with no passion between them? Just being in the same room with him caused her to come alive. Her senses seemed sharper. Her body tingled, longing for his touch. She hung on every word he spoke. Yet knowing he didn’t think of her as she did him made her think she should avoid him. She’d thought to do that when they’d first met, thinking him a dangerous rogue who would trifle with her heart. She hadn’t wanted that, especially with her focus on establishing her own bookstore.

Caroline supposed that if Luke truly were to look for a bride this Season, as she’d been led to believe, she would be the last woman he’d ever choose. First, she had a father who’d fallen out of favor with theton. Gambling and mistresses were tolerated to a certain point but the Earl of Templeton had gone over the edge, losing money hand over fist, so much that not only was he financially ruined, but he had shamed the only family he had left.

The fact that Caroline was now a businesswoman would also be a strike against her. A family as old and distinguished as the St. Clairs would not want someone frowned upon by the women of thetonto become Luke’s wife. She already knew she would be judged even more harshly than a titled gentleman who might dirty his hands in trade.

She didn’t think it would affect the new friendships she’d made though she doubted she would be able to socialize with Rachel, Leah, or Catherine in public. Once word got out about her bookstore and tearoom, Caroline knew social invitations would dry up. She would not want her friends’ reputations maligned by her presence. She hoped she would still see them in their homes. The three women already meant a great deal to her, as if she’d been welcomed to their sisterhood.

Stinch cleared his throat. “Do you agree, Lady Caroline?”

Oh, dear. She hadn’t heard a word her new manager said. Wanting to support him, though, she smiled and said, “I certainly do, Mr. Stinch. You are rarely wrong about anything.”

He smiled, pleased with her praise. “Then I think I will let those waiting know what our decisions are.”

“Yes. It would be best if news of their hiring comes from you since you will be in charge of everything regarding our employees. Have them report first thing in the morning. By then, I’m hoping to have some inventory available. And let any former servants of Father’s know that I will write them references even though they won’t be working at Evie’s.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She watched him go to deliver the news to those who would be working for her. Two of their former maids would be taking orders and serving customers in the tearoom. They were both in their mid-twenties, young enough to stand on their feet long hours and yet with enough experience to be steady on the job. They’d also hired one of the former footmen as a driver. Not for the coach but for the large cart that she knew was in the stables. It would be used to ferry books to Evie’s from other bookstores and possibly even directly from a few London publishing houses. That’s what she would look into next.

What had surprised her were three clerks they’d hired for the bookstore itself. None of the former Templeton servants who’d come to interview seemed qualified to act as clerks who recommended books and waited on customers. A few of them hadn’t even been able to read, which had knocked them out of the running. She and Stinch had hired three young men this morning from other booksellers, though. Two of them had previously worked at rival bookstores she’d visited and were men she’d asked many questions. The third man had worked in a nearby circulating library and had heard gossip about what establishment would fill the empty space she’d purchased. He’d taken a chance and come by two days in a row and was granted an interview when he saw them inside. She thought the trio all well qualified since she’d asked them not only about various types of literature and nonfiction books but assessed their speech skills and mannerisms. They all would do well working with the public.

A fourth young man, barely twenty, had also come on board. He’d apprenticed with a bookbinder and knew quite a bit about how to repair books. He’d told them that his master had a son who also apprenticed under his father. The young man knew when the time came, the son would be favored and receive a job in the family business. He decided to take the initiative and strike out on his own. He promised to be a hard worker and had also worked a few hours a week in a local bookstore. His familiarity with how books were labeled and shelved would be invaluable.

Stinch returned and gave her a list of four names.

“These are those who wish for you to write them a reference, Lady Caroline. I told them they could return tomorrow to receive them. They all asked that I thank you. Finding a job in London without a reference is almost impossible.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, placing the list in her reticule.

She was ready to leave the bookstore when a familiar face walked through the front door.

“Mr. Walton. I’m surprised to see you.”

He tipped his hat to her. “Lady Caroline. It’s nice to see you’ve returned safely from America.” He glanced about. “So the rumors I’ve heard are true. You’re opening a bookstore.”

“I am.”

“Then you’ll need an assistant.”

Walton had served as her father’s secretary for many years. He’d always taken time to ask Caroline what she’d learned from her governess that day and occasionally slipped her a peppermint from a jar he kept in a drawer.

It hurt her to say, “I don’t think I have anything for you, Mr. Walton. Mr. Stinch is serving as the bookstore’s manager. I’ve already hired sales clerks.”

“Who’ll keep the ledgers? Order your books?”

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