Enchanted by a Lady's Talent: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  Doyle walked home from there, letting James take the coach to find out whether he was able to get the invitation. For the next few hours, Doyle waited at his house, pacing back-and-forth, wondering what was going to happen. Finally, he decided to quickly bathe and get himself ready, just in case.

  By the time James returned, he was bursting out of his skin, eager to find out what was going to happen.

  Finally, he had the invitation in his hands.

  “You did it? You actually managed to get the invitation to the ball?” Doyle asked.

  “Indeed, I did. It was not easy, but the lad rushed at once to his uncle and begged. Lord Brinkley agreed to it, saying that he is somewhat of a romantic at heart. I told him that you are as well, and that you are a man of literature. He appreciated that even more,” James said.

  “You did not tell him the identity of the woman who has caught my eye, did you?” Doyle asked, suddenly in a panic.

  “Of course not! I would never do something like that. He may try to arrange for the two of you to dance when you were unprepared for it. No, I simply told him that there is a young woman whose mother and father you are hoping to woo. We left it at that,” James said.

  “You are my hero, James! Thank you for looking out for me and gaining me this victory. I can hardly believe that I shall soon be attending an event where I may find Miss Blackwell and dance with her.”

  “Yes, I know, but stop focusing on me being your hero and start focusing on yourself becoming the hero of Miss Blackwell. That is a far nobler thought. She is going to be quite stunned when she sees you there, will she not?” James asked.

  “Most definitely. I cannot wait to see the look on her face. Only…” he trailed off, suddenly realising the magnitude of what he had done.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Well, what do you think the people will say? And what if her mother and father refuse to be impressed by me?” he asked.

  “That is not up to you, Doyle. You must do the best you can, but only Miss Blackwell and her mother and father can respond. You must trust that things are going to work out. Otherwise, there was no point in my efforts to get you that invitation. Now, show your gratitude. Go. Enjoy it,” James instructed.

  Doyle promised himself that he would. James was right. He had to go and enjoy himself. There was no reason to feel anything but eager considering what he had planned. It was finally happening, really and truly. He was going to attend this ball, playing the part of a dashing man of society.

  Although Doyle knew that he did not fit with these people, he hoped that he would be able to make conversation with them. He hoped that no one would look down on him for being a simple bookseller.

  After all, Miss Blackwell was the only one who really mattered. Still, he wanted to impress her. He may not have the best people skills, but he thought that he would be able to present himself well enough to not disappoint her.

  That was his goal anyway. Once he was ready, once he had made himself look the part he wanted to play, Doyle stepped out of his home, breathed in the fresh air, and saw the brightness of the future ahead.

  Chapter 25

  Pippa pulled her gloves up as far as they would go on her forearms before exiting the coach.

  Her mother had already given her the list of men she was supposed to dance with, telling her who was going to be the most important man present. Even though she had no intention of making an effort with any of them, Pippa had smiled and nodded as her mother gave her orders.

  She had already decided that she wasn’t going to try. If her mother and father were so determined to marry her off, they would have to do so by convincing a man to marry her even when she was clearly indifferent.

  It was not going to be easy, and that was her goal.

  “Pippa stand up straight. You look as if you are being led to the gallows and there is not a single man in all of England who wants to marry a woman who has that posture,” her mother said.

  Pippa tried to ignore her irritation. She should never have expected that her mother would stop trying to order her about. Even if Pippa had made a promise to herself, her mother was not aware of that.

  She walked through the doors, hearing the announcement of her arrival and was shocked by the face she saw standing just off to the left.

  Mr. Brooks? What was he doing there? Who had invited him? And what was she supposed to do when her mother and father realized that he was the only man she could possibly spend time with throughout the evening?

  A part of her didn’t care. She was determined to go and see him and to speak with him at once.

  As she approached, she took in the sight of him. He was dressed quite nicely. His hair was slicked back in a fashionable manner. He looked confident, even. She had never seen him look this way before.

  She was startled to find that she actually missed the old version of him. She wished that he had not gone out of his way to display himself like this.

  She was also, suddenly, deeply insecure about her own appearance. She had not made as great an effort as normal because she was so determined to be average in the eyes of the men who were supposed to court her. Maybe she should have made herself look nicer? Maybe she should have made herself a sort of lovely, young, English rose that any woman would want to be?

  When she saw the way Mr. Brooks was looking at her, she knew that she had done everything just fine. It was clear to her that he found her attractive regardless of the state of her hair or dress.

  “Mr. Brooks…” she said, her breath catching. She wasn’t sure how exactly to follow. After saying his name, what more could she say? That was the only thing that mattered. Mr. Brooks. Mr. Doyle Brooks. Yes, he was the only thing that mattered to her.

  “Miss Blackwell, you look stunning,” he replied.

  “Oh…th-thank you. I actually…I mean, I did not make my grandest effort,” she told him apologetically.

  “You look stunning, Miss Blackwell. Positively beautiful. That is all there is to it,” Mr. Brooks insisted.

  “You look quite nice as well. I must confess that you are different, which is rather unexpected. Why have you changed your appearance so? Is it all to appease these silly people?” she asked, unable to help herself. She wanted to give him a compliment for trying—and he really did look nice—but she wished he were the same as he looked when she had fallen in love with him.

  “I thought it was appropriate for me to make such an effort to be the sort of man who actually belongs in society. I know that I am far from what others might expect for a man who is here at a fancy ball like this, but I do hope that you know that I have come in order to show that I can be respectable,” he explained.

  Pippa was surprised. She had assumed that he had been invited by someone from the literary community. However, Mr. Brooks made it sound as if he had come in order to prove something to Pippa. Was it possible?

  “Mr. Brooks, surely you must know that I always consider you respectable. You are the very image of respectability. It comes as a surprise to me that you would even begin to question that. Surely you know that I think you are a gentleman."

  He blushed and it was so lovely to see Mr. Brooks actually swooning under the weight of her words. Pippa wished that she could always make him feel this way. In fact, she decided that was going to be her mission for the evening. She wanted nothing more than to show Mr. Brooks what he meant to her.

  “You are too kind, Miss Blackwell,” he said.

  She wanted to stay there and speak with him all night, but what she wanted more than that was to dance with him.

  Did he dance? She couldn’t be sure. After all, he was not the sort of man to display any athletic abilities. All he cared about was reading. If reading were a sport, he would work every day.

  But Pippa was beginning to think that he was eager to dance after all. He continually glanced between the musicians and her card with great interest.

  “Miss Blackwell…would it be too forward of me to ask if you would be will
ing to dance with me this evening?” he asked.

  Pippa tried to temper her excitement to stay calm despite her eagerness.

  “I should like that very much, Mr. Brooks,” she said, grinning at him.

  He took her hand and she followed him onto the dance floor, where he led her in the steps. It was incredible to be in his arms.

  “You dance very gracefully,” he said.

  “As do you,” she noted. “If you forgive me, I must confess that I am surprised by your skill.”

  “Oh? And why is that?” he asked, not appearing offended in the least.

  “You do not come across as someone who is willing to learn the steps of a dance just to please society. It makes me wonder if you have practiced not because of expectations, but rather due to enjoyment?”

  Mr. Brooks smiled and nodded, a blend of pride and embarrassment in his expression.

  “Yes, indeed. I must confess that I very much enjoy dancing and always have. My sister says that it is the romantic in me, the same part that makes me such a passionate reader. I cannot say whether or not she is right about that, but I do admit that I enjoy dancing more than I enjoy most things,” he said.

  “Your skill is certainly to my benefit this evening. I do not think there is anyone else here tonight who has such a skilled partner on their arm,” Pippa said.

  “I am not worthy of such a compliment, but I am glad that you are pleased with my ability. In the same way, I admire yours. You are truly magnificent. Then again, I have noticed for a while now that you are magnificent, so it really is no shock to me,” Mr. Brooks said, his words warming Pippa’s heart.

  She was at a loss for words for a moment, and feared that she may burst with the information that she loved him. Instead, she held her head high and swayed with the movements, in and out of his arms.

  “How is the shop?” she asked him, changing the subject to something which made her more comfortable.

  “It is much better now, thank you. I was worried that I might never get it back into the condition which it had been in prior to the rioting, but I now believe that it is all going to be all right. I have to admit that it was because of your actions taken, the way in which you jumped to assist me, that I was able to get on recovering the shop."

  “I did nothing. The only help I offered was in putting together books which you are unable to sell,” she said.

  “That was more than enough. But you also gave me a reason to continue. You reminded me that there are others out there who love books as much as I do that there are those who are willing to do just about anything to be able to enjoy reading. I am grateful, Miss Blackwell, even if you think you did very little."

  At last, the dance began to slow. Everything was coming to an end and Pippa saw that her mother and father were both eyeing her curiously as she danced with this man they did not know. She immediately felt the panic welling up within her.

  “Pippa, dear, you must introduce us to this young man with whom you are dancing. I fear that I do not know you, sir. Are you acquainted with my daughter?” her mother asked, preening before Mr. Brooks.

  He smiled in a charming way and bowed to her.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, I presume? My name is Mr. Brooks and, yes, I do know your daughter. I am a landowner, actually, and I also own property in London, including the bookshop which your daughter frequents,” he said.

  Pippa tried not to laugh at his cleverness. Although he only owned his own home and the bookshop, claiming to be a landowner was an ingenious way of convincing her mother and father that he probably had wealth. Pippa was very impressed by him for thinking on his feet like that.

  “Oh, how splendid! A landowner? My goodness, dear Pippa, you have found just the right man to entertain, have you not?” her mother asked, clearly delighted.

  Pippa laughed nervously. She wanted her mother to believe that. She wanted both her mother and father to approve of Mr. Brooks, even if they did not know who he really was or anything about him. If she could just be smart about it, she might be able to convince them that he really was just the right man for her.

  “Well, Mother and Father, he is quite an intriguing gentleman. Not only does he own property and engage in commerce as a businessman, but Mr. Brooks manages to abide my incessant chatter about books. He really is quite well-rounded in his own interests,” she said, hoping that her parents would gather that this was a man they could all approve of.

  Of course, if they found out that he really was just the owner of a bookshop, her mother and father would feel deceived and be angry. Until then, Pippa was desperate to try and paint him in the best light possible.

  “I wish that I had known about you sooner, Mr. Brooks. I noticed that you danced with our Pippa. You are an elegant dancer, as is she. Tell me, do you think she is a very fine dancer?” her mother asked, hinting for a compliment.

  “Most assuredly, Mrs. Blackwell. And I do apologise for not coming to ask permission before our dance. That was very bad form on my part,” he said.

  “Oh, you need not worry about that. Now that I know who you are, it is perfectly fine,” she said.

  Pippa tried to hide her amusement and keep her grin steady and friendly, but she was overwhelmed by the moment and found it very difficult not to laugh.

  “Well, I suppose we ought to leave the two of you to get to know one another better, but Mr. Brooks, please do let’s speak again,” her mother said.

  “As you wish,” Mr. Brooks said, charmingly.

  Once Pippa’s mother and father departed, she turned to Mr. Brooks and shook her head, still grinning like a fool.

  “My goodness, I am surprised at you. Perhaps I should not be. You are extremely clever for coming up with the idea of focusing on what you own as opposed to telling her that you simply run a bookshop,” Pippa said.

  His smile faltered. Too late, Pippa realised that she had insulted him.

  “I mean, I think there is nothing greater in all the world than owning a bookshop. All I meant by that was that you realised my mother would require something more in order to be impressed. But she owns nothing. Only a few jewels, which hardly account for anything aside from trying to appear wealthier than her counterparts,” Pippa said, trying to downplay her mother’s quest.

  He appeared to accept her attempt at covering for the mistake and Pippa moved on. Soon enough, Mr. Brooks joined her in seeing the humour.

  “You know, I do have many books and many of those books talk about far-off lands. Technically, I was not lying,” he said.

  Pippa laughed. She was truly enthralled by Mr. Brooks.

  Although they tried to be near one another for most of the evening, they did have to separate now and then for the sake of propriety. Mr. Brooks even danced with Fiona once she arrived. Afterwards, Fiona came over to Pippa.

  “He truly does care about you, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  “Hmm? You think so?” Pippa asked, hopeful.

  “Most definitely. You know, if ever there comes a time in which the two of you are not allowed to be near one another, I am perfectly happy to be the one who carries messages between you,” Fiona said.

  Pippa looked at her in alarm.

  “Why do you say that? Do you think such a day could ever come?” she asked.

  Fiona shrugged and looked off and away.

  “This is England, Pippa,” she said. “You have fallen in love with a man who is less than the station of your family.”

  Then she said the last words Pippa wanted to hear.