She looked at him. “Into the bookseller’s?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It seemed to me as if you were interested. I thought you were the one who stopped to look in the window first.”
“Well…no, I think you’re right,” Edwina said. “But I wouldn’t have thought you would want to.”
“You don’t think I’m interested in reading books?”
“I don’t think you’re interested in ladies who like to read books.”
“That shows how little you know about me,” the Duke said.
“You’re telling me that youareinterested in intellectual ladies?”
“I am interested in all types of lady.”
Edwina laughed. “I should have known it would be something like that,” she said. “Of course, you are.”
“So, would you like to go into the bookseller’s shop? I’ll buy you a gift if you’d like.”
“You don’t need to buy me anything,” Edwina said.
“I’d like to. You deserve it for being willing to put up with me. Besides, it’s not as if I’m buying you fine jewels. It’s a book. I’d imagine a rebel like yourself would have no problem with such a thing.”
Itwouldmake her father feel frustrated, Edwina knew—and she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that enjoyed that thought. And he wouldn’t be able to complain because he was the one who so badly wanted her to forge a connection with the Duke. He would have to accept that it was happening, even if it didn’t look the way he might have liked it to—even if he didn’t think a book was a suitable gift for her to receive from a gentleman.
So, even though she felt some reservations about accepting a gift from the Duke at all, she nodded. “Let’s go inside,” she decided. “I think that might be enjoyable.”
He held the door open for her, and the two of them went into the shop.
The shelves were full of beautiful books. Edwina would never get over how much she enjoyed a good book. She walked up to the closest shelf and touched the spines gently. “What sort do you like?”
“Oh, nothing you would have read, I’m sure.”
“You could give me a try. I might surprise you.”
He laughed. “You rarely do anything else,” he admitted. “All right. Philosophy books are my favorite. But I imagine you would prefer a nice romance?”
“I do like a romance,” Edwina said. “But since you’re offering to buy me a book, maybe it should be one of your favorite type?”
“I want it to be something you’ll enjoy,” the Duke said. “And something you’ll get something out of.”
“I see. You don’t think I can understand philosophy?”
“I don’t imagine you’ve had that much exposure to it.”
“I’ve been sneaking into my father’s library and reading his books since I was old enough to know how to read,” she said evenly. “I’d say I’ve read something from every category he has.”
“Oh? What philosophers have you liked?”
“Plato is my favorite.”
“You’ve read Plato?”
“Could I claim to know anything about philosophy if I hadn’t?”
“All right,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I was right, then—you’ve caught me by surprise again. A philosophy book it shall be if that’s what you think you would enjoy.”
They made their way down the shelf of books. Occasionally, the Duke would pick one up and show it to Edwina, who would confirm that she hadn’t yet read it. It quickly became apparent that although she had surprised him by being better read than he had expected her to be, there was still plenty in the world of philosophy for her to experience.
