“No, Kit, we should look at some other things.”
“No,” he said. “That’s it.”
“Do you think she’ll love it?”
His mother would love a top from the toy shop if he gave it to her. He swallowed. “She’ll love it.”
The man nodded and turned away to place the tiara in a velvet-lined box.
“How about you, Franny? Should I get you a tiara?”
“Stop!” She giggled. “Tiaras are for married women or widows.”
“How about a bracelet?”
“No.” Her giggle fell away. “I really wouldn’t enjoy any jewels.”
“What would you enjoy?”
She tilted her head. “Can we go to a bookseller’s?”
Naturally,she’d been to Hatchards before with her father. But it was an entirely different experience with Kit. The hush as he came in. The numerous deep bows. The large young man who immediately came from the back to carry His Grace’s books for him.
“I’m their best customer,” Kit said to her under his breath.
Of course, he was.
She’d been thinking about trying to snatch another kiss from Kit behind a shelf, but the young man doggedly followed behind them as Kit took her up a flight of stairs to the novels.
She knew what she wanted. She plucked three volumes from a shelf and handed them to Kit. “I want this.” Then she snatched them back. “But I only want the book if you promise to read it first.”
“Yes.”
She grinned. “Wonderful.”
He took the books from her. “Pride and Prejudice. I’ve heard it’s Prinny’s favorite. Can’t say I’ve used him as a judge of literary excellence in the past. Are you sure you don’t want something else?”
“No. I love this book.”
“Then you’ve already read it?”
“Of course.” She swayed back and forth. “But I want you to read it. And then I want to talk to you about it. I think it could help you.”
“But if you’ve already read it—“
“Lady LeClere’s copy. I want my own.”
“You don’t want new boots instead?” Of course, she would be getting the new boots no matter how many books she selected today.
“Stop.” She batted at him playfully with her reticule. “I want Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.”
“You fancy yourself a heroine in a novel? A—what was it?—an Elizabeth Bennet?” He handed the three volumes to the young man.
“Oh, no. I’m nothing like her. I’m such a flibbertigibbet, and she’s, oh, she’s so wonderfully sensible.”
“I’ve never come here and only bought one book. You must pick out more.”
“I’ll pick out one more.”
