The Montgomery Libraries throughout London were very successful, more so than the bookstores. Books were costly things that many, not even the wealthy, could afford. Thus, many chose to pay for a subscription and were loaned the stories they wished to partake of.
Rose moved to the counter, found the book she’d been looking for, and went in search of the customer. She spotted the older woman sitting in a group of chairs in the middle of the first floor and made her way over, skirting other patrons and employees who were in high conversations about the library’s extensive selection.
There were three floors. The first was dedicated to the newest books in circulation while the following floors were fiction and nonfiction. Previously, the floors had held mixed genres, which caused fussing between various clients. So, when Rose suggested the split, the manager had listened, and the results had been a success. Now those who wished to discuss the matters of theory or philosophy could easily be found in one section, while those who enjoyed a more adventurous read had their own floor as well.
The design of the library was rich dark wood with burgundy and bronze furnishings. The stairs circled the building and left space in the center for one to look up and see the ceiling. This also allowed a great amount of light to come in through the windows on every floor.
“Here we are,” Rose said as she arrived in the circle.
Lady Davis’ face crinkled as she smiled and stood. Her small gloved hands wrapped around the book Rose offered. “Thank you. I was sure that every copy would have been gone.”
Rose gave the woman a wink. “I kept this one just for you.”
Davis’ blue eyes widened, and she tilted her head as she gazed at Rose. “Bless you, dear. You know how much I love our anonymous author’s work.”
So did Rose, but unfortunately, she’d have to wait until another copy became available before she’d have the chance to read Emma, since she’d just given the woman her own copy. Like Lady Davis, Rose paid a subscription as well, yet while she’d had every right to keep the book until she was done, Rose couldn’t have enjoyed it knowing Lady Davis couldn’t.
Now she’d have to find another way to amuse herself for the next few weeks.
The door opened again, and Rose glanced over, but again, it wasn’t Gerard. Had he left for the country already? She’d hoped he’d at least come to tell her goodbye.
But their conversation in the carriage had been strange. Fueled by the knowledge that it would be some time before they saw one another again, they’d shared silly sentiments and words that Rose prayed Gerard didn’t spend too much time dwelling on.
“Oh, that look in your eyes tells me that this shall be a grand story,” Lady Davis said.
Rose smiled at her. They often discussed their books together. Lady Davis was one of the sweetest women Rose knew and they got on famously. Rose also sensed a loneliness in the widow and enjoyed the chance to put a smile on her face. Many of the books they discussed included some sort of romance.
Yet sadly, Rose was thinking of another love story that would end in tragedy. She’d even put it to paper in the form of her diary. She wrote about Gerard nearly every night, allowing reality to be stirred with abstract ideas and fantasies.
Lady Davis winked. “Don’t tell me what happened. We’ll discuss it once I return to the city.”
“I look forward to it,” Rose whispered.
Lady Davis waved as she departed.
“That looked like your copy of Emma,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Rose spun around and pulled in a breath. She couldn’t stop the silly smile that filled her face. “Ger… Lord Obenshire.” She bowed and then looked up at him. “How can I help you?”
Gerard grinned. In the daylight, his golden eyes seemed lighter, and his dark hair held a golden tint. “I was thinking I should take a few books with me to the country. What would you suggest?”
“Lord Obenshire,” a voice called.
They turned and watched Mr. Nye make his way over. He was a plump man who seemed to ignore the fact as he pushed his way through the crowd in a hurry. He was dressed in the customary black that those who worked at the library wore. His hair was a mixture of black and gray.
He stumbled to a stop before Gerard and bowed before pulling his shoulders back. “Allow me to assist you. I’m sure Miss Smith has other things to see to.” He turned dark brown eyes on her. “There was a woman looking for a copy of Mansfield Park.”
Rose’s belly began to ache at that very moment. It was her body’s reaction to anger, caused by suppressing it as she was forced to do. Mr. Nye was neither the owner nor the manager, yet it was clear that he aimed to be the latter just as soon as the position became available.
For a moment, she wished she were a man. Being a woman always limited the amount of time she could be in Gerard’s presence. With no way to dismiss Mr. Nye and knowing Gerard wouldn’t because it would either cause a scene or gossip, she had no choice but to retreat.
She looked over at Gerard and put on a smile. “Excuse me, my lord.”
Gerard held her gaze with an indifferent look. “Good day, Miss Smith.” Then he tugged at his right ear before walking away with Mr. Nye.
Rose stood rooted to her spot and suppressed her smile. The ear tug was another sign, which meant ‘I’ll see you later’ or more literally ‘I’m not done with you,’ as it had been Gerard who’d come up with the signal.
Why those words seemed to have so much more significance after their ride in the carriage, she wasn’t sure.
“Are you all right, Miss Smith?”
Rose spun around and let her smile go free. “Lord Stonewhire.” She curtsied. “Whatever are you doing here?” Then she rushed on, “Not that you need a reason to be here, my lord, it’s only your health I worry about… Not that I think you incapable… Oh, that’s not an appropriate subject, is it?” She straightened. “Come as you please, though you don’t need my permission. You do own the library, after all.” Then she paused and blinked. “Allow me to start once more, my lord. What is it that I can assist you with? Would you care for a seat?” She led him in that direction and once again wondered why her tongue always seemed to work with the absence of her mind. “I’ll go and inform Mr. Tash that you are here.”
He chuckled and followed her and then, with the use of his cane, fell gently into the burgundy wingback chair. His warm pale blue eyes gazed at her. “I don’t need Mr. Tash. You can assist me just as well.”
Rose nodded and looked around for a maid to order tea, but it was brought out before she could voice the words. Apparently, they’d seen his arrival.
Once the tea was poured, Rose asked, “How may I assist you?”
“Sit,” Lord Stonewhire instructed.
Rose hesitated and took her time sitting in the seat next to his. “Would you like me to go and retrieve the library’s numbers? We’re quite empty of a few books from the catalog.”
“What books?” He took a sip of his tea and waited, watching her closely.
Rose looked down at the chair arm’s dizzying pattern. “The Execution by William Wordsworth, Researches in Greece by William Leake, Emma—”
“Have you finished Emma?” the marquess asked.
Rose was not surprised that he’d asked. He often caught her reading whenever there were few customers in the library. For a man who used a cane, he had a way of always managing to surprise her, and his visits were frequent.
Though she was certain that he never came to see her in particular. This was his library. One of many that made him wealthy. Why wouldn’t he visit?
But as it happened, Rose enjoyed his visits almost as much as she enjoyed Lady Davis’. She could never say that she and Lord Stonewhire were friends. He did not laugh often or sit about with her and speak of nothing. He always kept to the books she was reading and suggested ones he thought she should. This, she was sure, had more to do with her knowledge about the books in order to make him a better profit and less about the knowledge she
retained herself.
Still, she retained the information and read everything he suggested without complaint. There had been a few books on the list he’d suggested that she'd found dull or even wanted to toss out a window because of the writer’s naivety and ignorance, but she had gotten through them.
For him.
There was no way to get around it. She read the books not for the library’s profits or to keep her employment, but for him. There was a part of her that enjoyed their connection. Though she wasn’t sure when it had begun, a part of her saw him as some sort of father figure.
Rose had been working at the library since she was fifteen, which meant she’d known Stonewhire for almost seven years.
And whenever she allowed her imagination to get the best of her, she pictured a world where Stonewhire was her father.
Silly, she knew, but there it was, and often she swore they looked alike. They had the same pale eyes, though one could reason it was a common color. But Mary, who also worked at the library, had once commented that she thought Rose looked like Lord Stonewhire as well, but then Mary was as much of a dreamer as Rose.
Stonewhire was a handsome older man. She thought him to be in his late forties. He had light brown hair and pale blue eyes. He stood tall and even with the cane; he was an impressive and polished gentleman.
“I’ve not finished Emma,” she told him.
He pulled his brows together. “Why not? You’ve been reading it for weeks.”
She smiled, glad he remembered her activities. “Well, I’ve been busy as of late.”
He nodded. “I heard you attended Lady Sylvia’s party. Did you enjoy it?”
Her eyes widened, surprised he’d heard anything about her at all. “I enjoyed the party very much.”
He nodded slowly while he watched her over his cup. “How has my class treated you this Season?”
She sighed. “Fairly well, but it’s hard to know what one is truly thinking when I arrive and stand between two earls.”
The marquess nodded. “I take it that these sorts of parties are different than what you are used to.”
Rose lowered her lashes. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Some of the soloists did remind me of the children at the orphanage. There was an abundance of good tension in every note.” She glanced up and noticed Stonewhire’s lips were pressed together. He was holding back a laugh. A dimple appeared by his mouth, making him more handsome.
“What a clever thing to say, Miss Smith.” The marquess released a soft chuckle and then drank again. “You’d make a fine lady.”
That surprised her. “You think so?”
He shrugged. “You’re clever. People like cleverness occasionally.”
She looked away and grinned.
He straightened. “Put Researches in Greece on your list—”
“I’ve already read it,” she told him.
He stilled and smiled. “Very good.”
His praise gave her the same pleasure as biting into a sweet apple.
He went on to list two more books for her to read. Neither of them were subjects she enjoyed, but she would read them nonetheless. When it was time to leave, Mr. Tash came, dismissed Rose, and saw the marquess to the door.
She helped a few more customers before Gerard found her. She was busy organizing books on a back shelf when he arrived.
“Your Mr. Nye is very good at what he does,” Gerard told her. “He asked me what subject I enjoyed, and when I said the first thing that came to my head, he suggested a book that I’m actually enjoying.”
“Let me guess. Is the subject ships?” she teased as she stared at the shelf.
He chuckled. “You know me well.” He dangled the book in question in her face. “I read through the first few chapters while you spoke to Lord Stonewhire.”
She turned to him. “You waited for me?”
He lifted a brow. “I came to see you, did I not?” He tugged his ear. I’m not done with you.
She blushed but was saddened when she recalled why he’d come. He would tell her goodbye, and she’d have to endure months of not seeing him. When had Gerard become just as important to her as water and air?
She was glad that they were currently hidden from sight on the third floor in a section that received few customers. If she needed to cry once he was gone, she was unlikely to embarrass herself.
He grabbed her hand. “Rose, come to Avon Park.”
She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the pleasure of his touch. She always let him touch her first. Always. “No. I don’t want to go to a party, Gerard, and definitely not one that I can’t escape.” House parties could last for weeks. Some even for months.
He tilted his head, his golden eyes innocent. “But I’ll be there.”
She loved him so much.
She laughed and shook her head, both in denial and to clear her mind of its insanity. She and Gerard would never be more than friends. They could barely be friends. “You know very well that with so many people vying for your attention, we’d never get the chance to spend time together. With the number of guests who would be required to attend so that my presence would not be suspicious, we’d barely have a moment alone.”
He moved closer and lowered his voice, casting them both in shadow. “We’d find the time.”
She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her head on his chest, wincing. “Gerard, please.”
“Rose.” He touched her shoulder and then her neck, forcing her to lean away and look at him. “I don’t want to be there alone.”
She wanted to curse him for putting such pressure on her. How could she refuse him when he said such things? Her heart broke at the very thought of him being alone.
But then she remembered who he was. He was the Earl of Obenshire. He didn’t have to be alone unless it was his wish. “You can invite anyone in the world to your party and they would go.”
“Yes, but apparently not the one person in the world that I want to be there,” he countered before letting her go.
She wondered how he could say such things and only think them friends. Were men truly that different from women? What was taking place between them seemed much grander than friendship. The depths to which she felt for him were ground-shattering, yet all the while she knew she could never be a countess or a duchess, which was what his wife would be once Gerard took his father’s place.
Though she did recall a certain marquess noting that she would make a fine lady. Surely he’d only been teasing, but perhaps…
What if being away from the city gave them the chance to explore being more than friends?
She reached for him and took his hand, her body trembling with her every breath. “All right, I’ll go.”
He smiled, and Rose squealed as he lifted her into his arms and spun her once before depositing her back on the ground. “You angel. Thank you.”
She straightened her uniform and frowned. “What should I wear?”
“I’ll buy you a new wardrobe.”
“And have the entirety of London thinking me your courtesan? You most certainly will not,” she hissed. “I’ll buy it.”
He frowned and touched the book to his chin. “Are you sure you’ve the funds?”
She lifted a brow. “I wear a uniform most days. Any entertainment I partake in is at Alex’s expense. I live with my brothers, who won’t let me pay for a single bill.” Not to mention the investments she’d made in a few stocks after consulting Lord Stonewhire. His insistence that she read about the current state of the market and books on the subject ensured that she’d made more money than she’d lost, and since she didn’t have to pay for firewood or food, she’d had plenty to invest.
Rose had lived with Christmas Smith since leaving the orphanage. They weren’t blood, but they were family all the same. He, along with her brothers Nash and Reuben, who’d also grown up at Best Home, along with Alexandra, had loved and protected her throughout her entire life. At times, they still treated her as though she were a child and
not a woman. “The only thing I pay for is my book subscription here.”
His frown deepened. “They make you pay for that? You’re the best employee here. The least they could do is allow you to read the books for free.”
She smiled up at him. “I’ve already said yes. There’s no need for flattery.”
He winked. “I simply had to make sure you wouldn’t change your mind.” Then he backed away. “I’ll send an invitation through Justin and Alex.”
“They’ll have to agree in order for me to come,” she reminded him.
He nodded and said, “Goodbye for now,” before strolling to the stairs.
She almost regretted agreeing until those final words. Goodbye for now. ‘Now’ was no longer a great stretch of time. She would be seeing him again in a matter of weeks and that made Rose much happier than it should have.
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4
CHAPTER
FOUR
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Avon took a deep breath and opened one hazel eye before glaring up at Gerard. “What are you doing staring at me while I sleep?”
Gerard leaned away from the bed and waved off the footman he’d called to accompany him. “You stopped breathing. I nearly thought you dead.”
A maid came in and brought in a tea tray before leaving.
“You’ll have to wait a little while longer before you can claim the title,” Avon grunted as he tried to right himself.
Gerard bent over and assisted his father before stepping away. “You know I don’t care about the title.”
“Everyone wants a title,” he said. “Don’t think I don’t know how glad you’ll be when I’m gone.”
Gerard closed his eyes and decided not to allow his father to drag him into an argument they’d already had. “I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving for Avon Park.”
The Games the Earl Plays_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 3