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Aramintacast a furtive glance around. Thank goodness, other than her sisters and Mr. Sherman, no one else heard the dear woman’s comments.
Thougha budding smile made his mustache twitch, Mr. Sherman—the epitome of discretion—continued placing cups and saucers on a shelf.
“Fiddle faddle and flimflam.” Garnet waved her blue-veined hand as if shooing a pesky fly away. “Her mother will never permit a match between LordDarius and the spoiled chit. Gertrude’s aspirations for her daughter are far loftier, even if LordDarius is a duke’s son.”
Nosmall truth there.
PoorDarius.
Eudora’sgreedy, society-climbing mama—might well prevent the match. It wasn’t uncommon, even if the situation was unjust and untenable. Though truth be told, Mrs. Clarke generally acquiesced to her daughter’s demands, so if Eudora had her heart set on Darius, there was a slim chance she would prevail. But then, wouldn’t she be a constant presence at the bookshop where Darius spent his days?
Thenwhy hadn’t the self-centered wretch visited the bookstore more frequently?
Ithad been at least three weeks since she’d put in an appearance—since that day Darius had waltzed Araminta round the library. That didn’t mean, of course, that Darius wasn’t seeing Eudora elsewhere. Still, one would think if she were hell-bent on marrying Darius, she’d find any excuse to be with him.
Hedidn’t appear to be pining over Eudora, but men didn’t wear their emotions on their sleeves. He might well be languishing over her.
Overthe past few weeks, Araminta had grown to regard him with something far more powerful and potent than simple appreciation or attraction. Raw and fresh, she could barely acknowledge these feelings to herself, let alone speak of them aloud.
Garnetglanced around to ensure she wouldn’t be overheard and added, “From what I’ve observed of LordDarius, he’s too kind and decent for that shallow, vain, empty-headed nincompoop. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Eudora read anything more challenging than an invitation to a ball, let alone a book.”
Cometo think of it, Araminta had never seen Eudora read anything either.
“No,” MissOpal agreed with a vigorous shake of her silvery head, causing her bonnet’s profusion of orange and yellow silk flowers to bob and sway as if buffeted by a spring breeze. “His lordship needs a woman who loves books as much as he does.”
Theelderly matchmaking dears stared at Araminta, their watery, faded blue gazes not the least repentant about their bold insinuation. They might as well have shouted, Someone like you.
Quite impossible.
Isn’t it?
