Page 15 of Saving a Scoundrel
Ellie pointed down at her stocking-clad feet. “Shoes, dear.”
Susanna glanced down. “Yes, of course.” She disappeared into the dressing room.
“I’m wearing my most comfortable pair of half-boots,” Ellie called out. “My feet still hurt from dancing last night. But I had so much fun!” Hands outstretched, she executed a twirl in the middle of the room.
“That’s to be expected. Both the fun and the sore feet.” Susanna emerged with a pair of low-heeled shoes dangling from her hand and grinned. “I was glad to see you dancing. I was worried you would stand by that potted plant all night.”
“Lucius Grisham asked me to dance. A waltz. It calmed my nerves, and after that, I decided not to miss a thing. No more hiding.”
“Well, now, I missed seeing that.” Susanna batted her eyelashes dramatically. “And you didn’t swoon?”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Stop. Besides, he said Charlotte wrote him with instructions to make sure to ask me to dance. He is supposed to watch over us.” She scrunched her nose. “So it was hardly the romantic gestured I hoped.” Although hearing him say that she had kissed him senseless had cheered Ellie considerably. She had not told her friends about her impulsive behavior that day in the graveyard. She had been too embarrassed and confused by her actions. Ellie knew that all her friends had guessed her feelings for Lucius, but she had never spoken outright about her tendre. Charlotte had a good heart but telling her brother to watch over them was not helping Ellie’s cause.
Besides. She didn’t want to talk about Lucius Grisham. He had made it abundantly clear last night he was only interested in being her friend. She had almost convinced herself to cross number eight off her list. She had plenty of other things to accomplish while she was in London besides kissing Lucius Grisham. And she definitely did not need a big-brother type watching over her.
“What about you? Did you find any of the gentlemen you danced with interesting?” Ellie asked.
“No, not especially. But the fun is in the flirting, I suppose.” She finished fastening her shoes and stood. “I’m ready.”
Ellie sighed; she had no skill at flirting. Not that she’d ever had a chance to practice. She should addlearn to flirtto her list. She pulled out a folded piece of parchment she had tucked into her bodice,323 Percy Street, Piccadilly. “How far is Piccadilly?”
“Not far. But we need to take the carriage with all this rain.”
“All right. I have the address here.” She held up the small piece of parchment. “Let’s go investigate!”
They made their way downstairs and out to the waiting carriage. Their coachman, Sam Green, held a large umbrella overhead as he helped her into the carriage. Ellie tried to observe him stealthily from under her lashes. Sam was broad-chested, his arms well-muscled under his livery. Ellie could not help thinking about the scenario Susanna had described. He certainly looked strong enough to hold a woman up against the wall. The expression on his handsome face was polite and neutral, and she immediately felt guilty imagining his bare backside.
The rain fell steadily, as it had for several days. Eleanor sighed. At home in Marbury, when it rained, the grass looked greener, the flowers in her garden glistened with raindrops, and the hills were enveloped in fog like a cozy blanket wrapped around the village. Here in London, the rain turned the streets to mud and highlighted the dark coal soot that covered the buildings. As they passed through Westminster, an army of black umbrellas marched along the pathways as busy barristers rushed from building to building.
“Can you believe Lord Comstock showed up to call this morning?” Susanna wrinkled her nose.
“Why? He seemed very congenial.”
“I don’t know much, but I do know he is a terrible rogue. I certainly didn’t dance with him, did you?”
“No, I don’t remember him from the Ponsonby ball. So why would he come to call?”
“Perhaps he is in dire straits financially and is sniffing around for wife this year. Mother will know.” Susanna bit her lower lip. “I hate to tell you, but Comstock is friends with Lucius Grisham.”
“So? Lucius’s friends are hardly my concern.”
“I just want to prepare you. Lucius is a dear at home, but he runs around with a terrible crowd of scoundrels here in London. I don’t want you to be shocked if you hear things. I know how much you admire him.”
Ellie snorted. “Hardly. I promise you. I have a clear picture of Lucius Grisham’s flaws.”
Soon they came to a stop in front of London’s Book Emporium. The impressive building was easily three or four times the size of Mr. Buxley’s shop in Marbury. An enormous sign proclaimed the establishment’s name in bold gold lettering across the front of the building. A pair of double doors led into a book-filled haven.
Ellie couldn’t fathom how many books must be shelved on the long bookcases. Row after row of dark wooden shelves ran lengthways across the large room. An open circular staircase led to a second-level walkway where more shelves were built along the walls all the way around. The patter of raindrops against a large skylight in the ceiling created a soothing rhythm for browsing. Susanna gripped her arm hard in her excitement. Their eyes met, equally wide with awe.
An older man with white hair and spectacles on the end of his long nose sat at the front counter. “May I help you with something?” His annoyed tone snapped Ellie back to attention.
“Hello, I am Miss Eleanor Spencer, and this is my friend Lady Ashby. We are from Marbury, in Hertfordshire. Our local bookshop purchased a shipment of books from this store, and we would like to inquire about the origins of the crate of books. Are you the proprietor?”
“I am. Mr. Knight.” He peered at them suspiciously. “Why do you want to know where the books came from?”
Ellie exchanged a glance with her friend. Should they explain about the letters?
Susanna stepped forward. “We found the collection to be just to our taste, and we hoped to purchase more.”
