Chapter 8

CHAPTER8

“Here. Let me escort you this way, My Lady. You’ll find some fine shops here.” Lord Burnington offered Bridget his arm, which she eagerly accepted, as they stepped down from the carriage and walked through the streets of St Albans.

Bridget smiled as she looked up at him, thinking that today was going rather better than the day before.

After the shooting party had finished, Lord Burnington had eagerly offered the use of his carriage, and she had accepted. Alongside many of the others, they had ridden into town, ready to peruse the shops. Bridget could see her sisters, who had brought both Maya and Joseph with them, from a distance. They were looking in the windows, searching for new toys for the children.

Bridget felt a longing to join them, yet Lord Burnington steered her in the opposite direction. Other ladies followed behind them, clearly all eager to speak with him.

“How did you do in the shoot today, My Lord?” asked a particularly plump, eager young woman, with curls as red as her rouged lips and cheeks. “I bet you were the finest shot of the lot.”

“I am, usually, but I fear I was not today,” Lord Burnington said with a self-deprecating shake of the head. “We cannot always be the best, however. Yet, I do believe my skills may have been thrown off by the caliber of the gun. It was something I was not used to.”

The three ladies gathered around them all cooed like pigeons, saying what a fine shot they were sure he was, and how it must have been the gun’s fault.

Curious.

Bridget didn’t like the excuse as she stared at the Earl of Burnington. It wouldn’t have mattered to her if he was a good shot or not, but the fact he had made excuses showed he was a little petty.

Perhaps I am imagining things.

She looked away, and her eyes fell on a bookshop. Her pace slowed, and due to their linked arms, Lord Burnington stopped behind her.

“Ah, you are fond of reading, Lady Bridget?” he asked with interest.

“I am, indeed.”

“Let me guess. The tales of Miss Austen would suit your interests, I am sure?”

“They are enjoyable, yes.” Bridget nodded, yet her eyes locked on other books piled high in the windows. “Yet, I enjoy reading fact as much as fiction. Take this one, for instance. It is about Galileo, the astronomer, and the discoveries he made about the stars. It is one of my favorite books I have read this year.”

“The stars?” Lord Burnington shifted beside her. “Is there not enough to interest you here, but you must look to the skies instead for amusement?”

The other ladies giggled. There was something strange in the Earl’s tone that left her wrongfooted. She couldn’t be sure if he was jesting with her or if he genuinely thought it odd.

“I enjoy reading about science, My Lord,” Bridget said softly. “The stars are something that fascinates me greatly.”

“Then I suggest you lower your gaze a little.” He tapped the top of her head. “I do not think they allow female physicists.”

Bridget was alarmed. She stood there, still struggling to fathom if this was some attempt at a jest or if he genuinely was belittling her.

“Ah, now, here is a shop that interests me.” He pointed with his leather gloves to a shop beside the bookstore. Full of silk handkerchiefs and cravats. He was already eagerly walking toward it, with the other ladies following behind him. Two of them pointed at Bridget as they ran on, laughing at her.

I suppose I should go too.

Bridget took a step forward, away from the bookshop and toward the cravat shop. After all, if she wished Lord Burnington to consider courting her, she had to at least pretend to be interested in what he was interested in. Yet, before she could take a second step, a hand caught hers.

Bridget whipped around to find Lord Ramsbury beside her, wearing an expression she had never seen on his face. He was usually smiling, always reaching for some jest or some way to lighten the mood. Now, his gaze was dark as it rested on the cravat shop door that Lord Burnington had disappeared through.

“Do not follow him,” Lord Ramsbury said in a deep voice.

Did he hear?

Bridget didn’t move, unsure what to say or even think.

After a minute, Lord Ramsbury cleared his throat, the dark expression on his face turning into a smirk.

“Men do not want women who follow at their heels like a pup. Come. Do what you wish to. If he’s worthy of you, he will follow you.” He gestured toward the bookshop. “Though I’d like to stress the word if in that sentence.”

Ah, so he did hear.

“You heard our conversation?” Bridget whispered as she stepped toward the bookshop.

“I did.” Lord Ramsbury followed her inside. “As for what he said, I cannot figure out if the man is such a fool that he cannot make a jest properly or if he is genuinely so ignorant that he thinks looking at the stars is a waste of time.” He stepped through the door and reached for a book so swiftly that Bridget was nearly knocked off her feet in surprise as he passed it to her. “If you like Galileo’s book, read this one next.”

“Wait…” Bridget looked up from the book, straight into Lord Ramsbury’s eyes. “You have read Galileo’s book, My Lord?”

“Of course. We do not all spend our time thinking of what ridiculously-colored cravat we should wear next.” He winked at her.

Bridget felt a rush of excitement. She looked down at the book, breaking their gazes. The book was one she had longed to read for a long time, and the fact that Lord Ramsbury had heard of it at all, the fact that he knew of it, was somehow heartwarming. He was interested in the same things that fascinated her.

“Do not listen to a man that would laugh at you, Bridget,” he said with a heavy sigh as he turned and walked further into the bookstore.

Bridget hurried to follow him, almost tripping over another stack of books at her feet in her eagerness. The whole store was an emporium of books, practically a library from some large house, with stacks upon stacks of books everywhere, shelves full of books, and library steps propped against the shelves. There were even alcoves tucked away, creating corners and shadows where some people stood reading.

Bridget looked at every corner in turn, admiring everything.

Lord Ramsbury seemed to have a destination in mind. He walked straight to the back of the shop and then leaped onto a ladder that reached almost to the ceiling. He clambered up, reaching for books at the top of the shelves.

“You look as if you have been here before,” Bridget remarked, wishing to change the subject and no longer talk of how Lord Burnington had laughed at her.

“I have.” Lord Ramsbury leaned against the top rung and opened the book in his grasp on the title page. “I always come here when I am visiting Jacob or his mother.”

“You are an avid reader, then?” Bridget wasn’t sure why this surprised her so much.

“Yes…” He lifted his gaze from the book to her. “Care to explain the surprised tone? I’d be tempted to think you presumed a monkey more likely to read than me.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just…” Bridget struggled to explain herself. “I guess with everything that Rachel and Emily have said about you—” She broke off as he closed the book with a snap.

“Ah, I see.”

Lord Ramsbury climbed down the ladder another time and moved to stand before her, towering over her. They were tucked away in an alcove toward the back of the shop now. To see another soul in the bookshop, they’d have to walk a few steps around the corner. It felt isolated, almost intimate, in that space.

“Did you think because I was a rake, I spent all my time with women and pleasure? And none reading?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it may be what you have thought.” He reached up and tapped the side of her temple playfully.

“I did not! It’s just I’ve never heard you enjoyed reading before.”

“Well, there is a lot you can learn from reading, My Lady.” He lowered his voice. “As well as the manner of the stars, one can learn about other mysteries.” He walked around her, as if looking at the books on the other shelves, though he seemed to stay very close to her. “Such as the mysteries of women.”

He stood behind her, his lips so close to her neck that she froze.

What is he doing?

Bridget clutched the book to her chest, feeling as if her whole body was trembling with excitement.

“There are many secrets you can discover in these books,” Lord Ramsbury continued to whisper. “The mere possibility of discovering those secrets thrills me.”

“Are you referring to…” She halted once more as someone walked past the alcove where they stood.

The person passed by quickly, but Lord Ramsbury moved all the same. He no longer stood so close behind her but had turned to another stack of shelves and reached for more books. As Bridget turned to look at him, feeling alone once more, he passed her one of the books in his grasp, piling it on the other.

“If you are fond of Galileo, then this may interest you too.”

The spine of the book was engraved in silver lettering. It read The Teachings of Sir Isaac Newton. Bridget smiled as she ran her fingers over the letters. It was somehow strange that Lord Ramsbury could flirt with her for one minute, and in the next do something that could interest her so much.

“Is this another lesson?” she asked suddenly, her smile fading as she looked at him.

“What do you mean?” He continued to look over the books on the shelves.

“Are you teaching me how to seduce someone? By flirting and seeming completely captivated by what I’m interested in?” She held up the two books, watching as he halted.

Lord Ramsbury released the books on the shelves and turned to face her, a mischievous smile on his face. “It would be a good lesson, would it not?”

He stepped toward her, so near this time that she knew she should have stepped back. It would have been the appropriate thing to do—to put distance there between them—but she didn’t want to.

“Yet, I’m afraid I must disappoint on this occasion. I am doing all of this with one reason in mind.” His eyes flitted down to her lips.

For one second, Bridget thought he might kiss her. She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering what it would be like.

Would it be exciting? Would it be soft and sensual? Or would it be awkward, for she was so nervous about such an idea?

“What reason is that?” She barely managed to keep her voice level as she spoke again.

“To see you smile,” he said, his face cracking into a beautiful smile of his own. “Now, are there any other books you’d like?”

Bridget looked at the books in her grasp when she noticed the Marquess turning to another shelf entirely. He picked up other books and looked through them, but they were not about Physics or the stars. Instead, over the top of the shelves, golden paint on a wooden sign read Biology and the Humors.

Bridget blinked and moved to Lord Ramsbury’s side, peering over his shoulder. He was holding a particular book in his hand, and on the page he had flipped to, there was an illustration of a woman barely wearing anything. Instead, every curve of her body was on display. It was clear what the book was about—the female body and the manner of pleasure.

“I see what you mean about discovering secrets in these shelves,” Bridget whispered.

“Just so.” Lord Ramsbury chuckled and turned back to face her, adding the book to her pile.

“I do not need that one!”

“I thought you said you were curious to learn things. Even if that is about your own body.”

“My Lord—”

“It will interest you, trust me.” He winked at her.

She fumbled with the three books now, adjusting them in her grasp and tucking them under one arm. When he caught her free hand, she froze, baffled by what he was doing next.

Swiftly, he lifted her hand to his lips as if he had done it a thousand times before and it was a perfectly natural thing to do. He hovered his lips over the back of her hand, keeping it there as he looked her in the eye.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched what he was doing with anticipation, eager to see what he would do next.

“See?” he whispered, his voice deep. “You’re interested.”

He turned her hand over. Rather than kissing the back of it through her gloves, he pulled the cuff of her glove down a little and found a bare patch of skin on her wrist. He kissed that patch instead, his lips lingering on her skin.

It shouldn’t feel like that. Surely?

A sudden jolt had shot through Bridget’s stomach, and she could have sworn her entire body quivered with the excitement of it. If Lord Ramsbury kissing her wrist was such a thrill, what would it be like to be kissed anywhere else by him?

A wild picture flashed into her mind as she looked at him. She imagined him pressing her against the bookshelves, the books being dropped to the floor as he captured her lips with his. She thought of him kissing down her neck and across the opening of her gown, the moment fiercely passionate as her hands tugged at his tailcoat, wanting to reach for more of him.

What is happening to me?

“Bridget? Are you in here?” Rachel’s familiar face called across the bookstore.

Bridget pulled back so sharply from Lord Ramsbury that she dropped the books. He jumped closer still, trying to catch them all for her.

“What are you doing?” Rachel cried, her voice a little shrill as she appeared beside them.

“Lord Ramsbury was helping me select some books. Thank you, My Lord.”

Bridget took the books from Lord Ramsbury and walked past her sister. As she went to pay for the books, she felt Rachel’s suspicious glare on her back, but she refused to explain what had happened.

In truth, she was not sure she could explain it to herself.