Chapter 14

Ada could not stop grinning. The memory of last night’s ball and what it had led to left her with a giddy sensation. Anthony had kissed her, and what an incredible kiss it had been. She sat at her work desk with Emily’s order packed and ready for delivery.

Chin propped on one hand, she stared at the wall while recalling her evening walk with Anthony. He’d been lovely – both charming and considerate. He hadn’t rushed her. If anything, he’d made sure she welcomed his advances. And he’d told her he’d call on her today.

She could scarcely wait for him to do so and kept hoping she’d hear the bell ring once more. It had chimed a few times already, though not to announce Anthony’s arrival. Which probably shouldn’t surprise her. He would have arrived home late last night after dropping her off, so he probably wouldn’t be by in the morning.

“Is Lady Emily’s order ready?” Uncle James asked when he popped into the room a bit later. “If so, I thought I’d take a quick run. It will give me a chance to deposit last week’s earnings with the bank.”

“All right. I’ve got the books right here but it’s quite a lot for you to carry.”

“No worries. I’ll have the baker’s son help me. He likes earning a few extra coins.”

Ada helped Uncle James bring the books to the front of the shop and waited while he inquired next door about Oliver lending a hand. When he returned with the boy, Ada saw the pair off and returned inside.

After locking the door, she placed the ‘Be Back Soon’ sign in the window and went to tidy the counter. Uncle James had left his ledger wide open with his spectacles on top. Various notes also lay scattered about while a stack of books still waited to be put away.

She folded his spectacles and placed them on a shelf beneath the counter, closed the ledger which she returned to its rightful spot, and gathered the notes into a neat little pile.

Once this was done, she grabbed the books and began putting them where they belonged. She was just squeezing a copy of Byron’s The Prisoner of Chillon onto a shelf when a movement beyond the shop window caught her attention. Ada gave the book a sharp push and, satisfied it was solidly wedged between Béranger’s Chansons I and Coleridge’s Christabel, she approached the window and looked out at the black carriage parked in front of the shop.

Ada’s heart leapt. Surely this must be Anthony.

She prepared to go and open the door, only to pause when she saw a young lady alight. Smartly attired, she stepped down onto the pavement with careful movements. It almost looked like she didn’t quite trust the step to carry her weight.

An older woman followed her. The pair shared a few words with each other and started toward the shop door, only to stop and stare when they spotted the sign. Glancing about, the young lady said something more to the older woman, whom Ada believed to be a servant serving as chaperone, judging from her simpler attire.

Ada frowned. Should she go and inquire if she could help them? They might prove to be valued customers. Maybe Uncle James had managed to advertise the shop last night and these women had come to see if the shop lived up to their expectations? Oh, if only he’d not gone out.

She bit her lip. She couldn’t serve them herself, but she could perhaps tell them the owner had gone out and allow them to browse the books while they waited for his return. If they questioned her presence, she could tell them she’d been cleaning while making it clear she had nothing to do with the daily business.

They were already starting back toward the carriage. If she was to act it had to be now.

She approached the door, reached for the handle, and froze when the two women suddenly turned, clearly alerted by something.

Ada shifted her gaze in the direction they looked and took a sharp breath when she spotted Miss Starling. The lady had, it appeared, just alit from her very own carriage, which was parked a bit farther along. She now hurried toward the others.

Upon reaching them, she gave her back to the shop as she spoke. It seemed like they knew each other quite well, judging from the way the young lady smiled and laughed in response to what Miss Starling said. The young lady nodded and pulled something from her reticule which she handed over to Miss Starling before returning to her carriage.

Her chaperone followed her back into the conveyance, which took off soon after, rolling along the street before disappearing from Ada’s view. She pressed her lips together and chastised herself for missing her chance to invite them into the shop. But Miss Starling’s arrival had put her off balance. She’d no desire to meet with her.

Yet as Miss Starling turned to glance at the shop directly, Ada realized she had no choice in the matter. Unfortunately, the lady appeared to have seen her watching, and the determination on her face now was unmistakable. She shoved whatever her friend had handed to her inside her reticule and started toward the door.

With a heavy sigh, Ada prepared herself for their inevitable encounter and went to unlock it. Intent on being polite, she forced a smile into place and tried as best as she could to ignore the discomfort she felt at having to deal with the woman alone.

Just think of Anthony. He’ll likely arrive at any moment.

Or maybe Uncle James will.

No need for alarm.

Emboldened by this reminder, she turned the key, took a step back, and waited.

The door opened.

“Miss Quinn,” Miss Starling exclaimed as though shocked to encounter her here, “I’m so relieved to have found you, you’ve no idea.”

Ada clasped her hands together in front of herself. “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Miss Starling.”

“Isn’t it just?” Miss Starling’s gaze swept the bookshop’s interior. “What a delightful place this is. As an avid reader myself, I rather envy you living above a bookshop and having the latest releases available to you.”

Ada frowned. “I’m not sure I understand. How do you know I live here?”

“Well, I assume you do since you cannot possibly be employed.” Miss Starling tilted her head while studying Ada until she felt like squirming. “In case you’re unaware, proper young ladies do not engage in this line of work. Or any work for that matter unless they’re truly desperate or born into the working class. And even then, they must limit themselves to what’s appropriate, like selling flowers or becoming a seamstress. Feminine things, Miss Quinn, that won’t risk polluting their fragile minds.”

How Ada managed to keep her mouth shut and refrain from giving Miss Starling the boot was beyond her. Nevertheless, she smiled broadly. “You’re probably right. And indeed, I do live here.”

“Then you’ve no need to live in fear of a scandal.”

A scandal Ada was sure Miss Starling would happily put into motion if it served to keep Anthony from her. Clearly the woman wanted him for herself and considered Ada her rival.

Eager to send her on her way as swiftly as possible, Ada asked, “Did you wish to purchase a book? If so, you’ll have to wait for my uncle, who ought to return in about half an hour.”

“No, no. I didn’t come here as a customer but rather as a friend.”

Highly unlikely.

Ada steeled herself for whatever came next. “Really?”

“I know Westcliffe holds you in the highest regard, Miss Quinn, which is why I am hoping the two of us might get along. For his sake, that is. You see, I very much want to see him happy, and as his future wife, I’d like to make sure there’s no cause for resentment between us.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ada wasn’t sure how she managed to get the words past the sudden dryness in her throat. She stared at Miss Starling. “You’re marrying Anth…Westcliffe?”

“Of course.” Miss Starling batted her eyelashes. “He and I have had a long-standing agreement. One which we cemented last week.”

Ada shook her head. “I’m sorry to say this, but I fear you may have misunderstood whatever he might have told you. According to my conversation with him last night, he merely voiced the possibility with your father but has made no commitment to you.”

Miss Starling chuckled. “Men will often say one thing and do the exact opposite, Miss Quinn. I’ll make no pretense regarding our reason for marrying. Westcliffe needs my dowry and I want his title. It’s as simple as that really. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have an amicable arrangement. I saw the way he looked at you last night, which is why I thought to simplify things by reaching out to you myself.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Ada muttered, making a mental note to check all these facts with Anthony himself. She certainly wasn’t about to trust anything this woman told her.

“This marriage of ours will be a convenience, not a love match, which has the added benefit of preventing troublesome feelings of jealousy. Indeed, I welcome your continued association with my future husband, Miss Quinn, provided you take care to be discreet.”

Ada gaped at her. Surely she wasn’t suggesting what Ada believed she might be. “To be clear, you’ve come here to…”

Lord help her, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Give you this.” Miss Starling pulled an envelope from her reticule and handed it to Ada.

Much to Ada’s shock and dismay, she almost breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was a wedding invitation rather than a summons to Anthony’s bed. A near hysterical laughter threatened to burst past her lips as she read the flamboyant script announcing that the ceremony would take place at St. George’s in less than a month.

Still, it meant nothing. It had been hand-written and might be a one-of-a-kind example. Ada would not put it past Miss Starling to resort to such trickery, which strengthened her resolve to question Anthony before letting doubt and heartache grip her.

“Thank you,” she said as she slid the card back inside the envelope.

“You’ll be there then?”

“I shall do my very best.”

“Excellent.” Miss Starling beamed at her. “So many wives make the mistake of alienating their husband’s mistress. I’m rather of the opinion that one might as well be accepting. After all, there’s little point in forcing a man to ignore his baser instincts or making him change his roguish ways.”

Ada frowned. “I think you’ve severely misjudged me if you believe I would lower myself to becoming anyone’s mistress. And if you think Westcliffe a rogue, you’ve misjudged him as well. He’s anything but. Indeed, he is the best man there is – loyal, kind, protective, all of which are commendable qualities.”

Miss Starling gave Ada a sympathetic smile. “Goodness, it sounds as though you’re head over heels in love with him already. Which is why this arrangement will work so well. I mean, you realize you cannot marry him yourself, I hope?”

“I actually—”

“No matter.” Miss Starling waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Naturally, you will be compensated handsomely for the company you provide. You’ll not have to worry on that account. And since I’m sure the funds will benefit you and your uncle, I really see no issue. I mean, you have my blessing and on top of that you shan’t be burdened by the daily problems so many women face the moment they say, ‘I do’. Just think, Miss Quinn, you get to keep your independence, enjoy the blossoming romance you share with Westcliffe whenever the fancy strikes, and live a comfortable life. Honestly, I’m starting to envy your situation.”

If Ada had been more shrewish in nature, she would have slapped Miss Starling for daring to try and turn her into a whore. As it was, her pride overruled this compulsion and gave her the strength she required to straighten her spine and raise her chin.

“I’ll certainly consider everything you’ve just said,” she told her and was grateful to hear that her voice was remarkably calm, despite the hectic beat of her heart. “Thank you so much for stopping by, Miss Starling. Should you ever wish to purchase a book, you know where to find us.”

“I most certainly do,” Miss Starling said with just enough of a smirk to suggest she had taken great pleasure in their conversation. “Unfortunately I must be on my way. Good day, Miss Quinn.”

The horrid woman swept from the shop as though she were the queen of the land. Ada slammed the door and locked it before collapsing against it with a groan. Good grief. Miss Starling was a monster. She had to be. What she’d said could not be true, which meant she’d just delivered a long string of lies.

Ada swiped one hand across her brow and blew out a breath. Straightening, she considered the invitation still in her hand. Her jaw tightened. It couldn’t be real. Anthony wouldn’t have kissed her the way he had last night if he planned to marry Miss Starling.

Of course not. To suppose such a thing was preposterous.

He’d been clear regarding his acquaintance with her. He’d explained himself in a manner that made perfect sense. So Miss Starling was obviously the villain here, which wasn’t hard for Ada to believe in the slightest.

Right.

With her mind made up, she decided to wait for Anthony’s arrival. When he stopped by later she’d tell him of Miss Starling’s visit, and he would dismiss it as nonsense.

She paused on that thought. He had said Miss Starling would not dare cross him – that the consequence of doing so would be severe. Yet here she was, apparently willing to do whatever it took to make him hers.

Ada shook her head. An inconsequential detail. As a viscount’s daughter and with her awareness of his financial problems, she probably thought herself invincible.

That had to be it. He’d been civil toward her thus far and this had made her daring.

No cause for concern.

Confident all would soon be neatly resolved, Ada went to make a fresh pot of tea. Uncle James would welcome a cup when he returned, and Anthony might like one too once he got here. She spooned some tea leaves into the teapot, poured hot water over them, and prepared to wait.