“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” Gemma said with a graceful curtsy.
“The pleasure truly is mine, Miss Castwell,” the duke replied, and for a moment, the glimmer in his eyes made her believe him. “My sisters would be envious of your collection, Miss Castwell.”
Gemma looked at all the items she was about to purchase. She had several sheets of parchment, three different types of quills, two ink wells, and two brushes all neatly stacked on the counter nearby.
“I find that I go through more and more each week, Your Grace,” Gemma replied. He had an easy manner that made speaking to him feel natural, as though they had known each other as old friends.
“Are you a writer, Miss Castwell? That is, if you do not mind me asking, of course,” Lothar gently inquired.
“I am of sorts, Your Grace. I do get published every so often,” Gemma replied with pride.
“Your Grace,” a valet called from the doorway of the shop.
“Please excuse me, Miss Castwell, Mr. Baker, Mrs. Baker,” Lothar said before leaving with the valet.
Gemma watched him leave and could not take her eyes away from him. He had a lovely personality and valued family as she did. Then there was the fact that as he was as physically odd as she was; it fascinated her.
Easy there. Are you forgetting how the seasons in London went?Gemma’s mind tormented her.
She had wanted to make her parents proud. The very thought of having a man plan out her every move and enslave her to chores and just have child after child, it made her stomach churn. Yet, when her mother had almost broken down into tears of worry, Gemma had conceded.
She had dressed and prepared for hours. She had gone to all the right balls and events. Every move she made had been watched closely, and she had never faltered, not once. She did not consider herself unseemly in appearance, yet to find a man not intimidated by her towering stature was nearly impossible.No, two difficult and unkind seasons had left her with the decision to never seek marriage.
The duke is just fascinating and would make a good friend.Gemma told herself.
“Poor man,” Mrs. Baker said. Her words took Gemma away from her thoughts. “He had an elementary life, and then an uncle he has barely heard of leaves him nothing but a burden.”
“I beg your, pardon,” Gemma said, even as she disliked how interested she was.
“He was not a duke to begin with. He led a modest life. Then his uncle passed and left him his estate. Now one would think that a blessing, but this place is falling apart. He spends every penny he makes, ensuring his workers get their wages,” Mrs. Baker said softly.
“That is generous of him,” Gemma said as she looked to the door he had left through. She immediately felt sympathetic towards him, even though she was sure he could well take care of himself.
“Lovely man. He has no idea how good of a man he is, unlike most of the other young men around here,” Mr. Baker chimed in. Mr. Baker was a thin, neat older gentleman who rarely joined in on his wife’s conversations.
He must think highly of Lothar indeed!Gemma thought with awe.
“Then there is that woman.” Mrs. Baker said the wordwomanas though it were a dirty word. Gemma did not like the twist in her stomach at the mention of a possible woman in Lothar’s life.
What does it matter? You have just met the man!Gemma’s mind cautioned. She wanted to know but dared not ask the question.
“Miss Briggs. They have known each other since their schooling years. To each his own, I say. You see she does not seem to share the level of affection he shows her. The whole town thought they were a solid match. The years went by, and he had not asked her to marry him. Then there were rumors of her trying to wed her nephew-in-law just to get a hold of his fortune,” Mrs. Baker said in an even lower voice moments before Lothar re-entered the shop.
“Thank you so much for your patience, Mr. Baker.” Lothar’s voice echoed through the shop.
“Not at all, dear boy,” Mr. Baker said as he handed Lothar his carefully wrapped parcels. Lothar easily took the parcels that Mr. Baker struggled to balance. Gemma could not help but look at his hands. They looked capable of anything, even igniting her imagination.
The price of being a writer. Your imagination is almost always in full swing,Gemma thought with a smile. That is all that it is, my overactive imagination.
Yet, Gemma watched Lothar’s movements until she could not see him as he left. She knew that he had made a lasting impression on her. She would not soon forget meeting him and would, from that moment on, hope to repeat the encounter.
“Will that be all today?” Mrs. Baker said as she started to wrap Gemma’s purchases.
“Yes, thank you,” Gemma replied.
Ashley returned looking triumphant. “How did it go?” Gemma asked her.
“Very well, My Lady,” Ashley replied with a smile. She had seemed overjoyed when Gemma had asked her to help deliver her writing for her. It had now become a weekly arrangement when they came to town. Their carriage had stopped nearby. The door swung open as Gemma and Ashley approached, and Gemma’s parcels were fetched from the shop.
