Chapter Seventeen
Rob whisked Wiloff with him after breakfast to Fanny’s relief. Apparently, the ladies’ first day would be dedicated to shopping and Wil was meant to join the men in avoiding the dreaded experience. Tattersall’s and horseflesh were mentioned, but Fanny was left to guess what else they might be up to. When Fanny objected that she had few funds and less interest in feminine whatnots, Lucy grinned.
“What say you to books, art supplies, and sweets?”
“Books?” Fanny sighed.
“Ashmead holds many joys and some treasures. One thing it lacks is a decent bookstore,” Lucy declared.
A firm knock on the door interrupted them, and through the drawing room door, Fanny heard the Benson butler hasten to answer.
“Maddy is early,” Lucy murmured, but the butler’s words of greeting startled Fanny.
“Welcome, Mr. Eli. We weren’t expecting you,” he intoned.
Even Lucy’s eyes widened. She handed the baby she’d been cuddling back to his nurse with a quick kiss and went to the door of the drawing room. “Eli? What brings you so early? I’m afraid Rob has left already, taking Wil with him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did he inform you we needed an escort today? I hope he didn’t give you some excuse about being due at Horse Guards because he’s meeting Brynn to dither over horses.”
Eli peered at Fanny over Lucy’s shoulder, warming her to her toes. “He didn’t, but I thought—That is, I’d be happy to serve as escort.” He glanced back at Lucy. “Where are we going?”
Lucy laughed and hooked her arm in his. “We’re off to show Fanny the true delights of the capital. We are waiting for Maddy, and then we’ll be off,” she said, leading him into the drawing room.
Eli frowned over at Fanny. “If this means waiting at the modiste while you lot…”
“No, silly, the real treasures. Bookstores and Gunter’s,” Lucy said, her infectious laugh filling the room. She glanced between Fanny and Eli. “Fanny pronounced no interest whatsoever in fashion.” She leaned over and continued in a stage whisper obviously intended for Fanny to hear, “David let Rob contribute to the allowance they plan to set up at Madame Gilberte’s establishment. My job is to convince Fanny to make use of it.”
Eli smiled, not the least surprised. Of course not. As steward, he was probably the one charged with setting it up. “In that case, I would be honored to escort you ladies while my brother plays least in sight.” His eyes never left Fanny, forcing her to drop hers to study her slippers.
Sitting as she was in one of Lucy’s borrowed gowns, the hems hastily taken up by Lucy’s maid, talk of fashion made Fanny wish she could sink into the floor. She hadn’t come to Ashmead to ask for charity but to request her sire take responsibility for her sustenance. Of course, she hadn’t expected to be overwhelmed by family, either.
She glanced back up. Admiration in Eli’s warm brown eyes—for surely that was what she saw—pushed her embarrassment aside. She sat a bit taller. The frock fit her a treat, and Lucy had insisted it flattered her coloring better than it did Lucy’s own.
Maddy arrived, looking a bit paler than normal, and apologized for being tardy. Soon enough, Fanny’s newfound sisters were whisking her into Hatchards Bookstore, with Eli trailing behind. Fanny took a deep breath, the smell of leather and ink filling her with serenity.
Maddy laughed when Lucy hurried over to check the newest agricultural journals. “Obsessed!” she said.
“Agriculture?” Fanny wrinkled her nose.
“Has no one told you Lucy is by far the best land steward in all Nottinghamshire?” Eli asked. “She teaches me a great deal.”
He must be the humblest.“It isn’t what I would have suspected,” Fanny said, turning to Maddy for confirmation, but she had disappeared down an aisle of shelves.
Two gentleman and an older lady hovered around a table in front of the window, blocking Fanny’s view of the display. A clerk hurried over. “The dark, new work by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley has caused quite a stir. There are a few copies and other new books back on the fiction shelves. If gothic is your taste, Ann of Swansea’s newest is also there. And if I may say so, there is a wonderful four-volume set by the author ofPride and Prejudice—two newly published novels in one set.”
“Shall we have a look?” Eli asked, offering his arm. Fanny took it, noticing he knew the way.
“Here’s the new Ann of Swansea.Secrets in Every Mansion. Gothic, he said. Intriguing title.” Eli pulled out volume one and studied the title page. “A. K. Newman and Company. Are they important publishers?”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Fanny murmured, running her fingers along the books on the shelf until they came to ones by Selina Davenport. She pulled outAn Angel’s Form and a Devil’s Heart.
Eli leaned over her shoulder to peer at it, so close she could feel his breath on her neck and the warmth of him all down her back. Her wits went wandering, and she missed his question. “I beg your pardon?” Her voice sounded breathless, to her irritation.
“Minerva Press,” he said, stepping back. “I’ve heard of them. I think Emma subscribes to their books. Mostly fiction?”
“Yes. And they are one of the few to publish books by women. Notice Miss Davenport has her name on the cover,” Fanny said.
“I can see why that might matter. Have you sent them your work?” he asked.
Fanny’s heart sank. “Yes,” she admitted.Three times.“They said my stories lacked danger and suspense.”
