“I accept full responsibility,” she said, laughing. “Though I suspect you are hardier than you appear.”
“Appearances are dangerous things,” he observed, arching a brow.
“Especially when one wears them like armor,” she shot back, flashing him a knowing smile.
He tilted his head, considering her. “And what armor do you wear, Lady April?”
She tapped the book against her chin. “Laughter, Your Grace. It confuses the enemy.”
“I should like to see you attempt it on a battlefield,” he said dryly.
“If you think the ton is less treacherous, Your Grace, you have not been paying attention,” she argued, her voice dancing with amusement.
“A fair point,” he admitted.
She tilted her head, pretending to examine him closely. “You look rather better suited to storming a castle than dancing at a ball.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “here I stand, frightening booksellers and young ladies alike.”
“You do not frighten me,” she pointed out, sounding very certain. He believed her. “Come,” she said, holding out her hand as though commanding him. “Recommend me something.”
He scanned the shelves, reaching without hesitation for a slim, battered volume. He held it out to her.
“This,” he said.
She took it, reading the title aloud:Meditations on the Nature of Honor. Her nose wrinkled adorably. “It sounds terribly serious.”
“It is.”
“And here I thought you would recommend something cheerful, given the setting.”
“Grave taste,” he said dryly, “is difficult to abandon.”
She considered the book then him with mock severity. “I shall add it to my growing collection of terrifying titles, alongsideThe Torments of the MindandThe Sorrows of Young Werther.”
“A formidable library,” he observed, amused despite himself.
“Formidable and gloomy,” she teased.
“I should like to see your collection,” he said before he could think better of it.
She lifted a brow. “Careful, Your Grace. That sounds suspiciously like an invitation.”
“And if it were?”
“I might begin to think you enjoy my company,” she said, laughter bright in her voice.
“Dangerous thought,” he murmured, stepping back before the temptation to reach for her overwhelmed him.
The bookseller cleared his throat politely, and Lady April moved toward the counter to make her purchases. Theo lingered near the shelves, appearing disinterested, though he watched her from the corner of his eye.
Without a word, he selected a second copy of the ridiculous gothic novel she had mocked and handed it discreetly to the bookseller along with payment for his own selection.
Lady April glanced over her shoulder as she finished, catching his gaze. She smiled—bright and sweet—and tucked her book under her arm.
“Enjoy your reflections, Your Grace,” she called as she walked away.
He watched her go, the ridiculous novel clutched to her chest, and thought,How easily she makes even the darkness bearable.
