“Good afternoon, Mrs. Mortimore.” Fortuity paused a few steps into the bookstore and pulled in a deep breath, reveling in the sweet perfume of exciting new stories waiting to be discovered. “By the way, this is my sister, Lady Grace.”
“Good afternoon to you as well, Lady Grace,” the kindly matron said.
“Good afternoon.” Grace looked around the establishment in wide-eyed wonder. “Serendipity will have nine kinds of fits if she discovers I came here today.” She moved past Fortuity and started sorting through the crammed bookshelves.
“Ha!” Mrs. Mortimore disappeared from view with a quiet thud, then emerged from behind the tall counter that concealed her whenever she hopped down off the wooden crate, which elevated her to a height that enabled her to better serve her customers. “Is this the same Lady Serendipity whose most recent order is to be picked up later this week?”
“Indeed, it is,” Fortuity said with a wry grin. The eccentric shopkeeper might be tiny in stature, but she was enormous in spirit. Mrs. Mortimore was one of Fortuity’s most favorite people in the world, and she considered her a trusted friend.
“‘Do as I say and not as I do’ Serendipity?” Grace rolled her eyes and returned to browsing through the books. “Such a hypocrite. I should have known.”
“You know of the collection of stories she always kept hidden from Mama. Seri could start her own library.” Fortuity turned back to Mrs. Mortimore and winked. “Or a bookstore.”
The shopkeeper cackled as she tucked her wild, silvery curls back behind her ears. “I shall keep her in mind should I ever decide to retire. Perhaps she might wish to take over?” She motioned them toward a set of shelves at the back of the shop. “My newest volumes are just there. I put them out today. You ladies are the first to see them.”
Grace stayed put, engrossed by the contents of the first shelf she’d discovered. Fortuity followed Mrs. Mortimore to the rear of the shop, excited to be the first to peruse the new titles.
“Have you time for tea today, my lady?” Mrs. Mortimore asked her. “I have a lovely new custom blend from Twinings. They made it especially for me, and I am quite besotted with it.”
“That would be delightful.” Fortuity couldn’t think of a better way to escape the woes of this past fortnight’s disasters. If they didn’t get Eleanor married off soon and discover a way to rip out the Duchess of Esterton’s claws, Fortuity held little hope for her sanity and even less for the survival of her marriage.
Matthew couldn’t seem to understand why she couldn’t extinguish her insecurities as easily as snuffing out a candle. She was sure of herself when it came to her writing or any number of other things, but when it came to knowing with any level of certainty that her husband was really and truly devoted to her? She still failed miserably. Wicked little voices at the back of her mind kept whispering that as soon as thenewwore off their intimacy, he would tire of her and be ready to move on. After all, he had conquered her and claimed her spoils. Once a man got what he wanted, sometimes he discovered he didn’t want it anymore. The thrill was in the hunt. She had once overheard Mama tell that very thing to Papa about one of their acquaintances.
“Lady Fortuity?” Holding a tray with a teapot and cups, Mrs. Mortimore nodded at the small, round table in a cozy nook stocked with overflowing shelves. “Forgive me for saying so, but you do not seem yourself today.”
“That is because a pair of wicked ghosts from her husband’s past won’t leave her alone,” Grace said while slowly working her way along another shelf, then moving on to the next. Keeping her gaze locked on the spot where she had paused, she slid a pile of books onto the table, then returned to the shelf and took back up where she had stopped. “Do you have any books on poisons or issuing curses? That might help her.”
“Gracie.”
“Do not growl at me. You know it is true, and I distinctly remember your saying you trusted Mrs. Mortimore implicitly.”
“Why thank you, Lady Fortuity.” The kindness and understanding in Mrs. Mortimore’s eyes did little to ease Fortuity’s embarrassment. “Sit and pour our tea while I draw the shade. We shall talk as long as it takes.”
“Draw the shade?”
“Of course. Since I am the owner, I close whenever I wish—and I now wish it.” The shopkeeper didn’t bother looking back as she made her way to the door, pulled down the shade with the assistance of a long, hooked rod, then turned the latch and locked it. “Now, we can relax and enjoy our tea uninterrupted.”
Grace stacked another pile of books beside the first pile she had selected.
“You mean to purchase all of those?” Fortuity asked, trying to recall the last time she had seen her sister reading.
“They are about dogs.”
“Ah.” That explained everything. Dogs were Grace’s favorite subject. Fortuity added a dollop of milk to Mrs. Mortimore’s tea, then handed the saucer and cup to her. “I did not realize your shop’s offerings were so wide ranging.”
The shopkeeper gave her a sly grin as she lifted her steaming drink for a sip. “Not everyone enjoys the stories many young ladies are excited to read and keep hidden from their mothers.”
“Indeed.” Fortuity recalled that many of her sisters’ scandalous books were still hidden in cupboards and drawers even though Mama had passed away over two years ago. Determined not to allow her spirits to sink any lower, she sampled the tea and held the rich, herbaceous blend on her tongue, breathing in to enjoy the heady new flavor.
Mrs. Mortimore’s eyes sparkled. “Delicious, isn’t it? Twinings never disappoints.”
“It is indeed exquisite.” Fortuity relaxed back into the threadbare yet comfortable chair and allowed herself a sigh.
“Poisons, curses, or perhaps a book about hiring assassins?” Grace asked Mrs. Mortimore.
“Gracie!” Fortuity groaned, then turned to the shopkeeper. “Please pay her no mind. She is not nearly as bloodthirsty as she seems.”
“She loves her sister and seeks to help her,” the matron said. “Quite admirable of her, I think.”
