Recognition widened his eyes. “Your Grace. Do you shop here too?”
“Indeed I do,” Mr. Gibbs informed him. “The service is excellent and I would dare any man to locate a more skillful binder.”
“Agreed,” said the gentleman while Ada snuck behind Mr. Gibbs and disappeared into the back room. “Mr. Quinn is the best there is.”
“Yes,” Ada heard Mr. Gibbs say with a pensive tone to his voice. “He most certainly is.”
Ada waited until she heard the man leave before venturing back into the shop. “Would the two of you care for some tea?”
“I’d love a cup,” Mr. Gibbs said. “If it’s not too much of an imposition.”
“Not at all,” said Uncle James. “We’re happy to have your company, aren’t we, Ada?”
Heat rose to Ada’s cheeks and she quickly nodded. “Of course.”
She caught Mr. Gibbs’s gaze briefly and swallowed before retreating to the back room once more, leaving him to chat with her uncle. With hasty movements intended to dispel the fluttery feeling in her stomach, she prepared the tea.
“You know him, you silly goose,” she chided herself. “He’s your friend. No sense in letting him ruffle your feathers.”
If it were only so simple. Truth was, the man was able to make her skin tingle with merely one glance. It was equally wonderful and tormenting.
“We thought we’d join you in here,” Uncle James said, showing Mr. Gibbs into the small space behind the shop. Ada, who was pouring hot water into the pot, started a bit in surprise, nearly scalding herself in the process. “It’s a bit more private, in case other shoppers stop by.”
“I suppose,” Ada hedged, sweeping the area with her gaze and wondering how someone else might see it – how Mr. Gibbs, specifically, would see it. She set the pot aside and rushed to make space for him on a chair where she’d left leather samples scattered about in a messy pile. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to entertain anyone.”
Certainly not a duke. Good lord, whatever must he be thinking?
“No worries,” he said, his voice cheerful as he inspected the room with a curious look. “I love how homely this feels. My townhouse seems so impersonal by comparison. Is this where you work, Mr. Quinn?”
Uncle James crossed to the wooden table Ada used for binding the books. “Oh yes. One doesn’t need a large room for this sort of thing.”
“Perhaps you can show me how it’s done once we’ve finished our tea?” Mr. Gibbs sent Uncle James a warm smile. “I’m curious to see how it all comes together.”
“Well…um…yes.” Uncle James scratched the back of his head and glanced at Ada. “It’s a bit of a lengthy process, though, with time required for drying the glair. But I can certainly walk you through the basics – explain how it’s done, that is.”
“Thank you. I’d enjoy that.” Mr. Gibbs accepted the cup Ada handed him and gestured toward the chair she’d prepared for his use. “Why don’t you sit here, Mr. Quinn, and I’ll take one of the stools instead?”
“Oh no.” Uncle James shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Please.” Mr. Gibbs remained where he stood. “I must insist.”
“But you’re a duke,” Uncle James muttered. “It wouldn’t be right.”
Mr. Gibbs sighed. “Can we please agree that while I am here I am not any different from either of you? I’m not more deserving or of higher status. I am merely Mr. Gibbs, an ordinary man enjoying himself with his friends.”
“Very well,” Ada said before Uncle James could respond. The sincerity in Mr. Gibbs’s voice, the quiet plea for them to treat him without any fuss, and the kindness he wanted to show her uncle were worthy of note. She could not deny him. “You and I shall take the stools and Uncle James will have the chair. I’ve some biscuits too if anyone would like some.”
“What kind of biscuits?” Mr. Gibbs asked with a boyish smile.
“I’ve got vanilla and chocolate from the bakery next door,” Ada said as she went to collect a tin. “They’re both rather good.”
She popped the lid on the tin, set it aside and offered Mr. Gibbs the biscuits. He selected a vanilla flavored one and Ada chose the same after letting Uncle James pick his. She placed the tin on a side table within easy reach before lowering herself to a stool. Her knee bumped Mr. Gibbs’s and she muttered a hasty apology.
“So,” said Uncle James before the situation could get more awkward, “how does a gentleman such as yourself pass his day when he’s not visiting bookshops?”
Mr. Gibbs shrugged one shoulder and sipped his tea before saying, “I’d prefer to tell you how I ought to pass it rather than how I actually do – or have been, of late. Truth is I’ve been negligent in my duties for longer than I care to admit and must now face the consequences. My sisters, for instance, deserve to have debuts with all the pomp Society will expect on account of their stations. And then there are my properties, which all require servants and some sort of general upkeep. It’s rather expensive and overwhelming.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Ada said. “I mean, you are a duke.”
