Page 50 of Embracing the Earl (The St. Clairs 3)

He shrugged. “A provincial little town.”

“Actually, Boston is a thriving city,” she informed him. “One of the largest in America. I assisted my aunt in running the place and managed it on my own after her death.”

“You’re playing at being a businesswoman, Lady Caroline,” Netherby said flatly. “No one is going to accept a woman bookseller. Oh, there are some women who run a business in London. Milliners. Modistes. No one is going to take you seriously, though.” He paused, looking her up and down. “You are a woman of theton. You’ll be ostracized by that verytonfor dirtying your hands in business. They won’t shop at your little store. And no one will recommend it, either.”

He crossed his arms. “If a customer wishes for a book I don’t have, I tell him I’ll get it for him. If I’m unable to within a reasonable amount of time, I send him to a fellow bookseller. I—and others in London—will never send them to your establishment.”

She started to speak but he held up a hand.

“Yes, you’ve purchased some stock from other sellers in the past week but that will not be the case in the future. You won’t be able to build any more inventory. I’ll see to that. This is a man’s world, my lady. Run by men. You aren’t wanted here. We shall close ranks and make sure—if you continue this foolish venture—that you fail.”

Caroline rose, knowing her cheeks blazed in anger. “Evie’s Bookstore is my livelihood, Mr. Netherby. I don’t have the pleasure of having a father who left me well off because mine was a gambler who lost everything. I have the wherewithal and determination to stake a claim and create a haven for women to buy their books and socialize a bit. I understand that we are competitors and that you have little regard for me. I am sorry for that. It’s your loss, though. Not mine. Good day, sir.”

She left the office, hearing Netherby shout after her, “You’ll fail! So will that tearoom of yours. You’ll be a laughingstock.”

Caroline burst through the door and stormed through the bookstore. Walton quickly joined her and they left the premises.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Mr. Netherby doesn’t have a high opinion of women going into business. Especially women who might compete against him. He’s going to try and turn other booksellers against me.”

Walton swallowed. “So, it’s war, is it?”

“It is, indeed. This visit to Mr. Netherby has only increased my resolve. I am determined to make a success of Evie’s simply to spite him,” Caroline declared.

*

Three days later,Caroline realized how dire her situation was. Suddenly, no one would sell to her or any of her representatives. Everywhere, booksellers gave her the cold shoulder. Still needing a great deal of books, she tried not to panic. She had too many people she’d hired depending upon her for her to fail in this endeavor.

The problem led her once again to the Duke of Everton.

Barton admitted her and asked, “His Grace? Or Her Grace?”

“His Grace,” she said and followed the butler to the duke’s study.

Everton welcomed her warmly and introduced her to his companion.

“This is Matthew Proctor, who serves as my eyes and ears and advises me in business.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Caroline,” Proctor said. “His Grace has told me of your venture. I’m eager to see it—and shop there.”

She frowned. “There won’t be any shopping or any store if I can’t get my hands on more inventory.” She looked to the duke. “May I sit?”

“Of course.” He steepled his fingers. “It sounds as if you have troubles. Share them. Together, Matthew and I might be able to come up with a solution.”

Caroline told him of what she’d accomplished since his last visit and how everything had changed after her meeting with Leland Netherby. Everton said nothing but a muscle in his cheek twitched as she told him how the bookseller had threatened her.

“He’s going to drive me out of business before I can even open my doors,” she said, exasperation plain in her voice. “Netherby has rallied other London booksellers around him. The tearoom is ready to open now but I still lack in books.”

She sighed. “That’s why I’ve turned to you, Your Grace, for advice. I’m sure as often as I show up here, I should be paying you as my financial adviser.”

“There will always be petty Netherbys in the world. We cannot let them win.” Everton rose. “Come with me to my library. You, too, Matthew.”

The three of them went upstairs and into a large library.

“Look over the shelves, Lady Caroline,” the duke encouraged. “See what you think of my collection.”

As she did so, Everton asked, “Do we have a list of all the books contained here, Matthew?”

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