Even at the park, after he’d noticed her, he was lost. He’d intended just to take a late-afternoon stroll through the green, and instead he’d received a lesson on kite flying. Even if their relationship didn’t develop into anything permanent, he wanted to become one of the memories she spoke of in later years, wanted to be more than on the periphery of her life.
“I’m truly glad you’re here, to get a feel for all we accomplish with the lessons we offer,” she said, coming up alongside him.
She hadn’t been in the room when he’d first walked into it. Based on the strength of the orange scent surrounding her, he assumed she’d been finishing up her bath in her lodgings above. That thought had him imagining her sinking into the tub of steaming water, dew forming on her skin, gathering in the little notch at her throat that had so enthralled him during their adventure. “Your girl downstairs told me to come up.”
“Yes, Marianne watches the door, keeping potential customers out, allowing only students in, as the shop is closed for the evening. You seem to be giving everything a thorough study. Do you find it all to your liking?”
He found her to his liking. Would she give up her quest for a title in order to be with him? Although in the end, through him, she’d acquire what she sought. “I’ve yet to discern any rhyme or reason to these books, am unable to determine their category.” Most appeared to be fiction, but he also noted some biographies and histories as well as a few on travel.
“For the most part, they’re stories or subjects I’ve enjoyed reading.”
“It seems an odd thing, though, to send your customers up here, searching for something, rather than having the books downstairs.”
“Oh, these are for reading within this room or borrowing.”
He faced her. She wore a prim and proper dark burgundy frock that buttoned all the way to her throat, hiding that enticing little hollow, for which he was grateful. He didn’t need the distraction or to have his body rebelling as want gave way to desire. “A lending library?”
“Precisely. Except I don’t charge a yearly subscription fee. Anyone may take any book home.”
“What induces them to bring back the books?”
“Well, hopefully good manners. If, however, they don’t return the book, I assume it’s because it found a place in their heart—and I don’t penalize them for it.”
“How can you afford that?”
“Donations. Mostly from my family members, a few of their spouses’ relations or friends. Even the lessons we teach are based on the generosity of others. On this shelf here”—she swept her arm to the side—“we have primers. Each new student receives one to take home with him or her, to keep, so they can study it at their leisure. One of the challenges we face is that people have differing levels of knowledge when they arrive and then some are faster learners than others.”
“It seems as though it would be less confusing to have terms, as in schools.”
“I agree but haven’t it in me to turn someone away after they’ve found the courage to walk through the door to ask for help.”
“How many students have you?”
She shrugged. “Probably a dozen or so at any one time, although often fewer show up. Work, family, or life sometimes interferes. Another challenge, remembering what a person has learned and coaxing them along in the right direction.”
“It seems it would be a lot less work if you had a more formal schedule.”
“Eventually perhaps I will. I hope someday to have a proper school that will focus on the needs of illiterate adults.”
A sound at the door caught his attention. She turned and beamed a radiant smile at the tall, slender gent with striking red hair tamed into a modern fashion. “Mr. Tittlefitz.”
He approached cautiously, his suspicious gaze flickering between Matthew and Fancy. “Miss Trewlove.”
“I’m rather certain you’ve probably already met Mr. Sommersby. He’s leasing—”
“86 Ettie Lane.”
“You’ve quite the memory,” Matthew said, reluctantly impressed by the young man’s skills.
“Mr. Trewlove expects me to know the tenants, and to quickly see to whatever needs might arise. It helps to recall where they reside.”
“I’m certain you’ve exceeded his expectations, Mr. Tittlefitz,” Miss Trewlove said.
The man looked at her with such an adoring manner, she might as well have proclaimed him King. Anyone who drew breath could discern the secretary had a tender regard for his boss’s sister, which Matthew was selfishly grateful didn’t appear to be returned in kind. She favored him as no more than a friend.
“Mr. Sommersby is considering assisting with the teaching on the nights when I’m not available.”
The falling of the young man’s joy was subtle. “I could handle it without help.” Obviously, his pride had been nicked.
