She pushed away and shook her head. “Goodbye, Lord Raines.” Then she skimmed down the steps and out the library door before he could stop her.
Chapter Seven
“You are quitesure you wish to continue? I do not want you to overdo.” Celia took the package of ribbons and combs from her mother as they stepped out of the shop. She handed it to Friedrich, who had waited outside, standing at attention like a personal guard. He accepted the small bundle and placed it with the others he held in the crook of his muscular arm. Celia felt them well protected by the dedicated giant who greatly resembled the Viking etchings in the book of Norse sagas back in her library. She was glad the footman had accompanied them from Germany.
When her mother didn’t answer, Celia cleared her throat to get her attention. “Your Grace? Did you hear me?”
“My hearing is exemplary.” Duchess Thea turned from perusing items in another shop window and fixed Celia with a warning look. “My tolerance for over-coddling is not.” She saucily patted the back of her hat as if ensuring it was tipped to the most fashionable angle. “I am enjoying an exhilarating day of wellness and vigor. Do not spoil it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Celia forced a smile and pretended all was lovely, when in fact, all she wanted to do was curl up and cry. She was miserably lonely and destined to become even more so once Mama died. Especially since she had sent Elias on his way.
But her mother’s beaming happiness made her shake herself. Now was not the time to sulk about like a spoiled child. A day of improved health for Mama was a rare gift and deserved better.
She pointed at the next shop in the multitude of businesses lining both sides of the busy street. “I believe Sophie and Frannie are in this bookshop. Would you like to pop in there too?”
Mama wrinkled her nose as though fighting back a sneeze. “While enjoying such energy, I would love to visit the Bond Street bazaar, and then, if time permits, move on to the Pantheon for more browsing. I know you adore poring over the oldest and mustiest of books in the shops, but would you mind very much passing on it this time?” Her smile seemed almost apologetic. “I need the hustle and bustle of people and light right now, Celia. I have been starved of it for so very long.”
“I can sort through musty old books anytime,” Celia said. “Just give me a moment to see if Sophie and Frannie are ready to come along with us to the bazaars.” She turned to Friedrich and gave him a silentwatch over Mamalook.
The footman nodded and moved a step closer to the duchess, all the while stealing glances up and down the street. The devoted man trusted no one, and Celia was glad of it.
She hurried into the small, cluttered shop and collided with Elias just inside the door. Her heart shot into her throat and nearly choked her as she teetered off balance. “Oh my! I do beg your pardon, Lord Raines. Please forgive me.”
He steadied her by catching hold of her shoulders, then jerked his hands away as if touching her burned him. Taking a step back, he curtly nodded. “There is nothing to forgive, Miss Bening.” Then something both dangerous and exhilarating flickered in his eyes. His rumbling voice deepened to something akin to a warning growl. “Actually, there is much that requires both an apology and forgiveness, but I daresay such matters would be better addressed elsewhere.”
She stiffened. How dare he say such a thing where it might be overheard by any number of people? Rather than argue and risk making him say anything more, she gave a deep curtsy, then hurried around him, hoping to escape. She spotted her friends at the counter chatting with the shop owner as they paid for their purchases. She hurried over and took refuge between them as they turned to go. “Duchess Thea wishes to go to the Bond Street bazaar and perhaps the Pantheon. Does that not sound lovely?”
“Indeed.” Sophie eyed her as if wondering what was wrong, then looked past her and assumed a polite smile to go along with a belated curtsy. “Good day to you, Lord Raines. How nice to see you again.”
“Lady Sophie.” Elias bowed to her, then to Frannie. “Lady Ardsmere.” He fixed a narrow-eyed scowl on Celia. His jaw flexed as if he was gritting his teeth while contemplating how best to endure her existence.
“Lord Raines.” Frannie curtsied, then reached across Celia and caught hold of Sophie’s arm. “Come, Sophie. I forgot to show you the book of maps that you simply must purchase for your brother’s collection.”
“But we already made our purchases,” Sophie said while scrambling after her.
“We can make more.” Frannie tugged her out of sight around the end of a tall bookcase.
An irritating sense of being abandoned filled Celia as she watched her sisters by choice disappear. No matter. She could handle this alone.
She stoked her courage and faced Elias. Leaning close, she lowered her voice. “You have no reason to be so disagreeable.”
“I beg to differ.” He widened his stance, as though expecting her to bolt for the door. “I intend to keep my word to the duchess, and you are making my task most difficult. I do not appreciate it when my tasks are made difficult.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out something highly improper in a public place. “I am sorry you feel that way, my lord. Trust me when I tell you that I only do what is best for all concerned.”
Her fickle body did not agree. It flashed hot with the memory of his kiss and the delightful warmth of his embrace. She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning while her heart pounded to the point of making her breathless.
His striking appearance didn’t help. His navy cutaway coat emphasized his broad shoulders, and his buff-colored pantaloons and polished black boots perfectly displayed his long, muscular legs that had made such a very nice lap on which to sit. Her entire body tingled at the recollection. Thankfully, the smugness of his expression made the breathtaking tingles give way to the indignant anger that helped her regain control.
Celia lifted her chin, ready to fight. “Perhaps you should speak with Her Grace. She is most understanding, and I feel certain would happily release you from your oath.” She dismissed herself with a curtsy then went to step around him, and he blocked her way again.
“No, thank you, Miss Bening. I do not make oaths lightly. Nor do I ever go back on them.” His entirely-too-perceptive smile widened, irritating her even more.
“Let me pass,” she said through clenched teeth. “Her Grace is just outside and should not be kept waiting.”
His dark brows ratcheted higher. “Her Grace is outside?”
She refused to repeat herself to this infuriating man. Instead, she moved to step around him again.
