“I was, but interestingly enough, the thieves didn’t attempt to steal Mr. Pendleton’s books, or Mr. Clarkson’s, for that matter.”
“You think they were only after your books?”
Adelaide bit her lip. “I did, but it doesn’t make sense that after relieving me of my parcel, they’d then break into the store.” She turned her attention to Mr. Bainswright. “May I see your inventory list from that crate you got yesterday? I don’t recall the titles of the books I purchased, but perhaps those may explain why someone was so desperate to acquire them.”
As Mr. Bainswright hurried into his office, Adelaide approached Mrs. Bainswright, who was looking rather peaked, and steered her over to her favorite chair. After helping her get settled, she told Gideon to keep an eye on her while she went off to make some tea.
The last thing she expected to see once she returned was Gideon sitting in a chair beside Mrs. Bainswright, holding her embroidery hoop and explaining how to do a proper cashmere stitch.
“See? This stitch allows you to cover more territory on the fabric than the one you’ve been using,” Gideon said. “That’ll save you a lot of time filling in the bodies of the flowers you’re creating.”
For a second, Adelaide allowed herself the luxury of simply watching Gideon with Mrs. Bainswright, her heart giving an odd flutter when he handed her the embroidery hoop and smiled in an encouraging manner when the elderly woman began plying the needle into the chemise.
There was something incredibly sweet about a man who courted danger taking the time to help a woman who’d suffered a horrible morning find a bit of peace. It was also incredibly surprising that he seemed to know his way around an embroidery hoop in the first place.
Gideon took that moment to look up, flashing Adelaide a grin. “Before you ask, yes, I know how to embroider. I learned when I was in the navy because we frequently had time on our hands as we were sailing around the world. It’s a hobby I enjoy to this day.”
“You actually like needlepoint?” she asked, advancing into the room to set the tea service on a table, ignoring the way her pulse had ticked up a notch at the sight of his grin.
“I find the repetition soothing as well as enjoy presenting my completed projects to my mother, who now has my needlepoint pillows proudly exhibited in her parlor in Paris.” He smiled. “Mother has been pestering me to learn how to crochet because she’d like some throws to go with the pillows, but I readily admit the manuals I’ve found explaining the art of crochet aren’t very helpful. I’ve yet to make much headway with the lap robe I’ve started.”
Mrs. Bainswright shot a telling look to Adelaide, one that suggested she was waiting for Adelaide to offer to teach Gideon the finer points of crocheting. Resisting the inclination to roll her eyes, not only because she had no idea how to crochet, but also because Mrs. Bainswright was clearly trying to manipulate the situation, she settled for sending Mrs. Bainswright a slight shake of her head, which resulted in Mrs. Bainswright sendinghera rolling of the eyes before she placed a hand on Gideon’s arm.
“I know how to crochet, my dear man, and I’d be happy to teach you,” Mrs. Bainswright began before she turned an overly bright smile Adelaide’s way. “I’m sure you’d enjoy learning a few pointers from me as well. I say we coordinate our schedulesso I can share everything I know about crocheting with both of you at the same time.”
Before Adelaide could argue with that nonsense, although there was a part of her that wouldn’t mind being on hand to watch Gideon learn how to crochet, Mr. Bainswright hurried back into the room, carrying a large ledger.
After setting it on the table, he flipped it open and ran his finger down a page. “Ah, here we go. Seems like you boughtSix Characteristic Piecesby Frederick Brandos, a reprint ofCulpepper’s Complete Herbs, and a diary written by a Juliette Watson, although I recall being unable to make out the author’s name for certain, given the dismal condition of that diary. In all honesty, I was disappointed with the books Mr. Elmendorf sold me yesterday, but since he was the only supplier to approach me this week, I was hesitant to turn away his collection.”
As Adelaide set about pouring the tea, Gideon rose to his feet and frowned as he considered Mr. Bainswright for a moment. “I can’t help but wonder if the circumstances surrounding the theft of Adelaide’s books are somehow tied to this Mr. Elmendorf. What can you tell me about him?”
Mr. Bainswright accepted a cup of tea from Adelaide before he sat down on a straight-backed chair, his knees giving a bit of a creak. “There’s not much to tell,” he began. “Elmendorf has sold me books for about two, maybe three years. Frankly, he doesn’t have a great eye for valuable books, which is probably why he likes to sell to me in bulk, asking a set price for an entire crate instead of requesting specific dollar amounts for each book. I’ve never lost money on what I buy from him, although I haven’t made a lot of money either.”
Mrs. Bainswright settled a fond look on her husband. “You know you only buy from him because he’s always got a down-on-his-luck story to tell, and underneath your bluster, you’re a big softie.”
“That was supposed to be our little secret,” Mr. Bainswright grumbled.
“Gideon and I won’t tell anyone,” Adelaide said, handing Mrs. Bainswright a cup of tea. “But I think we should make it a point to speak with Mr. Elmendorf to see if he remembers where he acquired the books I purchased yesterday. That might give us a clue as to why anyone wanted one of those books so desperately that they resorted to theft. Do you have an address for him?”
Mr. Bainswright scratched his chin. “Can’t say that I do. He comes to me, not the other way around.”
Adelaide caught Gideon’s eye. “We’re going to have to have someone watching the store at all times, not just for protection for the Bainswrights, but to have a chat with Mr. Elmendorf the next time he comes around.”
“I see we’re back to thewebusiness, and while I agree that men will need to be dispatched to oversee activity at the store, you’re not going to become further involved,” Gideon said.
“That’s like allowing me to become immersed in a spy novel, then taking it away from me right when the good stuff begins.”
“This isn’t one of your spy novels.”
“Well, quite, because it’s actually happening and I’m a player in the intrigue.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed, but before he could voice the objections Adelaide knew he longed to make, a meow drew her attention. A glance upward left her smiling when she caught sight of Harvey stuck on the very top of a bookcase. After picking her way through scattered books lying on the floor, she reached for the rolling ladder, but before she could begin climbing, Gideon was standing directly beside her.
“Allow me,” he offered. “Camilla would be put out with both of us if you suffer a fall and break a limb. That would undoubtedly be the thing that would leave her throwing up her hands in defeat.”
“Camilla is far too determined to find success with me to admit defeat, even if I were to suddenly incapacitate myself.” Adelaide smiled. “However, since ladders and I don’t always have an understanding, I concede your point, so up you go.”
Gideon blinked. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so reasonable about the matter.”
