Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

O f all the people to run into, Rebecca Harrington had to be it. Joseph marched toward the skate shack. The sooner they got this errand done the better.

“Who was that?” Holly asked.

“An acquaintance,” he said. “Though there was a time we were friends. But people change. I changed.”

“What do you mean, changed?” she asked.

“I did; I’ve explained this to you before.”

She stopped and looked at him. “You said you used to be an unkind man. I’ve not seen you do one unkind thing since I’ve known you.”

Joseph glanced at Rebecca, who was still standing where he’d left her, glaring daggers at him. “No, but she and I used to do unkind things together. I’m not proud of it.” He patted Holly’s hand and continued on toward Mr. Ross’ shack.

When they reached it, Mr. Ross had his back turned to them, muttering something about uppity customers. Joseph cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

The old man turned around. “Mr. Bradshaw,” he looked past him. “You’re not here with that Rebecca Harrington are you?”

“Does this look like Rebecca?” Joseph asked and gave a nod to Holly.

Mr. Ross looked her up and down. “Indeed, she does not. Fine. Two pairs of skates?”

“Not today, we’re here on behalf of Mrs. Pettigrew.”

Mr. Ross’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What did she want? She’s not planning another skating party, is she?”

“No, sir,” Holly said, speaking up for the first time. “She was so happy with the one she had, she sent you this.” Holly pulled the envelope of money out of her reticule and handed it to him.

Mr. Ross looked at it with wide eyes, opened it and peeked inside. “Jumpin’, Jehosaphat!”

“Just a small token of her appreciation, “Joseph said with a wink. “You worked hard and served her well.”

“I noticed you weren’t there,” Mr. Ross quipped. “So why are you delivering me this?”

“I am,” Holly said. “He’s accompanying me.”

“You weren’t there either. Who are you?” Mr. Ross stuffed the envelope into an inside pocket of his jacket

“I’m Mrs. Pettigrew’s new assistant.” Holly gave him a smile, then flashed it at Joseph.

“Since Mr. Simpson is now betrothed to Mrs. Pettigrew’s old assistant, she was in need of a new one,” Joseph explained.

Mr. Ross’ eyes flicked between them. “So why weren’t the two of you at the party?”

“I wasn’t feeling well, I’m afraid,” Holly said. “And Mr. Bradshaw was kind enough to keep me company.”

The old man’s eyebrows shot up again. “Oh he was, was he?”

“We were properly chaperoned,” Joseph pointed out, authority in his voice.

Mr. Ross took a step back. “I see, well, so long as everything was done, proper like. I guess there’s no reason you can’t spend time with the young lady.” He looked at Holly and studied her. “You look sort of pale. Are you alright?”

“Quite,” she said, then turned to Joseph. “We should get the rest of the errands done.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said, and offered his arm again. “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Ross.”

“You too and tell Mrs. Pettigrew I appreciate this!”

Holly looked over her shoulder as they departed. “Don’t worry, we will.”

Joseph patted her hand as they strolled back to the carriage. “You did fine, Holly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“No, but then, you know the gentleman. What if I had given the money to the wrong person?”

He gave her a warm smile. “You wouldn’t have because you’d have found out if that was Mr. Ross or not. Why are you so nervous?”

She stopped again and looked into his eyes. “Because I don’t know what I would do without the chance Mrs. Pettigrew has given me, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.”

He sighed and gave her a warm look. “Darling, you worry too much.” Without warning, he kissed her on the forehead, then escorted her to the carriage. Rebecca still hadn’t moved an inch and was glaring at them with the most venomous look she could muster.

Joseph ignored her and helped Holly into the carriage. He climbed in after her and rapped the ceiling with a fist. Mr. Prosser knew to go to the bookshop next.

“Miss Harrington doesn’t seem to like you very well,” Holly said in a small voice.

“That’s because I’m not running amuck with her causing trouble anymore.” He glanced out the window, but there was no sign of Rebecca. Joseph didn’t wonder if she’d stomp all the way home just so she could throw a temper tantrum.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Holly asked.

Joseph did his best not to laugh. “I’d rather not say.”

She flashed him a knowing look and picked at a piece of lint on the blanket “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Miss Harrington, would it?”

Joseph gave her a playful shrug “And if it did?”

“You shouldn’t be smiling at someone else’s discomfort, even if she is, shall we say, less than savory?”

“You’re right, of course. But Rebecca causes her own mischief that gets her into trouble. I’ve seen her do it countless times and the woman never learns.”

“And you did?”

It was a legitimate question. “You know you’re smarter than you let on.”

She smiled and looked away.

“No, really, Holly. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You have what it takes to be Mrs. Pettigrew‘s assistant. Don’t think you’re not capable “

She gave him a hopeful look. “You really think so?”

“I know so. You’re articulate for one. Maybe you haven’t read a lot in your lifetime, but you pay attention to how people talk, and I assume read when you could.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “You assume correctly. We didn’t grow up with many books, but I do like to listen to people talk. I like how speech varies from person to person.”

“And thus, you were educating yourself,” he pointed out. “Bravo.”

She blushed head to toe, and his heart skipped at the sight. He’d been calling her darling today, it slipped the first time, then again, and at this point, he didn’t care. She was darling , and he’d like to make her his darling. But would she even believe him if he told her? They were so different, like night and day, and of course his father would never approve the match. He might even disown him.

But the more time he spent with Holly, the more enamored with her he became. She was everything he could want in a wife, sans equal social standing, of course. The question was, what was he willing to give up to have her? Or could he find someone as equally sweet and kind among his own class?

Joseph made a huffing sound. No. He could not.

“What was that?” Holly asked.

“It was nothing. Don’t mind me, I’m being silly.” He gave her another warm smile and looked out the carriage window. They were just pulling up in front of the bookshop. “Ready for another great adventure?”

Holly giggled. “Looking through dusty old books?”

“The books in the shop are hardly dusty, and you’ll love the shop owner.”

“Then by all means, let us go in,” she said.

They disembarked the carriage, went inside, and Joseph smiled at the tiny gasp Holly emitted at the site of the shop. It was quaint, cozy, and he had to admit one of his favorite places in the neighborhood. “Like what you see?”

“Oh,” she breathed. “This is almost as nice as Mrs. Pettigrew‘s library.”

Mr. Troeh, a middle-aged man wearing a pair of spectacles, came around the counter and smiled at them. “Mr. Bradshaw, it’s nice to see you again. Picking up a book for your father or for yourself?”

“Neither. I’m here with Miss Turtledove on behalf of Mrs. Pettigrew. Miss Turtledove is going to be Mrs. Pettigrew’s new assistant.” He turned to Holly. “You and Mr. Troeh will be spending quite a bit of time together from now on. Mrs. Pettigrew orders a lot of books.”

Holly smiled and blushed. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Troeh.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Turtledove. I take it Miss Eastwick is marrying Mr. Simpson?” he asked glancing between them.

“That is correct,” Joseph said. “Now, I believe you have a book for Mrs. Pettigrew?”

“Yes, I’ll fetch it. It’s in the back. Browse while you wait.” He turned and headed toward the back of the shop.

Joseph swept a hand toward the many books around them. “You heard the man. Take a look around and see if there’s anything you’d like.”

Holly flushed again. “I’m afraid there’s not much I can do if there is. I’ve not been paid yet. This is only my first day as Mrs. Pettigrew’s assistant.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll buy you a book. Any book you want.” He gave her a brilliant smile and hoped she said yes. He wanted to give her things. Lots of things…

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, but I couldn’t…”

“It’s a gift, Holly. There’s nothing wrong with accepting a gift from a friend.”

“But…”

He held up a hand. “There’s no sense arguing with me. When I’ve made up my mind about something it’s done.”

She sighed as her shoulders slumped. “Very well.” She looked at the surrounding stacks, went to one, pulled out a book, and began to leaf through it.

Joseph smiled. The building of Holly Turtledove’s library had just begun.