And two, he’d wanted to spend additional time in her company.
It was a curious state of affairs because he’d never found himself dwelling on a lady for any length of time, nor had he ever longed to keep company with one. His thoughts and time were usually consumed with matters of intrigue, but these days, intrigue was taking a backseat to a lady who fascinated him more than anyone he’d ever known.
He looked forward to the conversations they shared, whether they be about books, cats, or current events, and he enjoyed making her laugh, the sound of her laughter doing odd things to his stomach. The first time his stomach had taken to lurching about while in her company, he’d thought it was due to an overly spicy dish, but when it had happened again, and then again, he’d no longer been able to deny that it wasn’t the food he’d consumed that was responsible for the odd state of his gastronomical issues—Adelaide was.
“You’re not going to deny it?” Adelaide asked, rescuing him from thoughts that had apparently caused him to forget he was in the midst of a conversation.
“Deny what?” he had to ask, having forgotten what they’d been talking about.
“That you accompanied me here because you want Camilla to talk me out of taking over the bookstore.”
“You really are becoming very proficient with figuring out my motives.”
Adelaide opened her mouth, but before she could voice the argument she clearly longed to make, Miss Ellington straightened, stuck a pin back into the cushion attached to her wrist, and nodded.
“That should do it,” she said briskly. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn, Miss Duveen, that that’s the last dress we need to fit today, but don’t get overly excited. Tomorrow we’ll need to move on to the final alterations of the ball gowns. That endeavor will take at least three full days to get everything exactly right.”
Adelaide’s mouth dropped open. “Three full days of me standing here while you impale me with pins?”
“I’ve barely stuck you at all today, and if you wouldn’t fidget, there’d be no sticking to begin with,” Miss Ellington said before she gestured to the door. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you out of that gown, which will put an end to any impaling you’re still experiencing.”
As Adelaide stepped gingerly from the dais, then moved at a snail’s pace out of the room, muttering something about torture, Camilla walked over to the coffee cart and poured two cups of coffee. She handed him a cup after adding a smidgen of sugar, just how he liked it, then added cream and sugar to hers.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling that trying to talk Adelaide out of running a bookshop is going to be an uphill battle?” she asked.
“I imagine she’ll eventually see reason if you broach a few valid points, such as it’s complete and utter madness.”
Camilla’s nose wrinkled. “I’m sure you’ve already mentioned how her intentions are pure insanity, and yet here we are, and with Adelaide incredibly keen to set herself up in trade.”
“She does seem enthusiastic about the idea,” Gideon admitted before he smiled. “But on the bright side, operating a full-time business will most assuredly deter her from her determination to join the accounting firm.”
“That’s optimism at its finest because I don’t get the impressionAdelaide’s easily deterred, and she’s determined to assist the accounting firm.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right about that,” Gideon muttered as he took a seat beside Camilla on a settee upholstered in a pale shade of peach, a comfortable silence settling between them as they sipped their coffee until Adelaide breezed back into the room. She’d evidently been in a hurry to rejoin them because her hair was tumbling from its pins and her gown was buttoned improperly, not that she seemed concerned about any of that as she made a beeline for the large reticule she never seemed without. Opening it, she rummaged around in it, extracted a small leather-bound book, and headed across the room to join them, sitting in a chair close to Gideon.
“It didn’t take you long to get dressed,” Camilla said, her gaze on the buttons marching unevenly down the front of Adelaide’s gown.
“I certainly wasn’t going to give the two of you time to come up with a strategy to deter me from purchasing Bainswright Books.”
Camilla set aside her coffee. “Purchase it? I thought they wanted to give it to you.”
“They do, but I can’t accept such a generous gift. Besides, giving them fair market value for their shop will ensure they won’t have to be overly frugal in their retirement, but enough about the shop for now. We have more important matters to discuss.” She held up the book she’d retrieved and nodded to Gideon. “This is why I wanted to stop by my house after we escorted the Bainswrights home.”
He fought a sigh as he took the book from Adelaide and glanced over it before he lifted his head. “How did you come into possession of a confidential spy master-pad?”
“Is that what it’s officially called?”
“It is.”
“How extraordinary,” she breathed. “And I found it in amoldy old trunk that was abandoned in a ramshackle barn when I was exploring along the Hudson River a few years ago.” She smiled. “I’ve studied the book cover to cover, but I haven’t had an opportunity to try out any of the codes, which has been disappointing, but it appears that’s about to change.”
Gideon frowned. “I’m afraid your disappointment isn’t going to be assuaged because I have no intention of involving you further in what is undoubtedly a complicated web involving numerous shady characters. It’s far too perilous.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m already in peril because unsavory characters obviously know I still have the diary. But if I were to help you crack the code, I’ll be armed with knowledge that could very well see me better prepared if I’m ambushed again.”
“That’s some downright convoluted reasoning there.”
“And that was an abysmal attempt at distracting me from the matter at hand, which suggests you’re losing your touch.”
