Page 23

SEVERAL AWKWARD HEARTBEATS LATER

Ofcourse, the notion was utterly ludicrous. Ridiculous. Preposterous. Outrageous. Absurd.

Howcould Araminta entertain such a nonsensical idea for one second?

Halfa second?

Shetried to control the flush crawling from her neck, but her heated cheeks revealed she’d failed in her attempt. Thank goodness no one else occupied the coffeehouse, and her sisters remained absorbed in their books.

Evenif she and Darius shared a passion for books, he’d only ever interacted with her in a friendly but professional manner.

What about that dance you shared?

Itmeant nothing. He’d proven that when the minute Eudora arrived, he’d hightailed it to her side.

Aramintasecretly agreed with the MissesMulburys regarding Eudora’s intellect.

Heracumen rivaled a turnip’s—a very pretty and cosseted turnip, but a brainless root vegetable, nevertheless. It had always been thus. Araminta had known Eudora since childhood, and intelligence was not her strong suit.

Whatwas it Mama used to say?

You cannot turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.

Norcould you turn a dimwit into a scholar or intellectual.

Displeasedwith her rambling musings, Araminta summoned a benign smile. “Please excuse me. I only have this afternoon to finish unpacking the books the Duke and Duchess of Latham sent.”

“Of course, my dear.” Garnet’s eyes twinkled as she raised her cup to her lips.

Hersister puzzled her already wrinkled brow. “You work too hard, Araminta. Someone so young should enjoy life.”

“I enjoy keeping busy.” AndAraminta did—just not quite as busy as she’d been of late. She still had to finish writing TheVicar of Langmere’sDaughter, and Mrs. Tenney had commissioned three more pairs of gloves, which meant more late evenings and less time with the twins before bed.

SirWaddlesby wasn’t the only one to suffer from Araminta’s overburdened schedule.

Afterglancing at her sisters and assuring herself they would be fine, Araminta took her leave of the Mulbury sisters and made her way back to the piles of books waiting to be shelved.

Asshe rounded the corner from the coffeehouse, Darius raised his dark head from whatever he was reading behind the counter and tipped the corners of his mouth upward a fraction into an enigmatic smile.

Aquiver of awareness skimmed over her, but Araminta firmly tamped it down, though she couldn’t prevent her mouth from bending upward in an answering greeting.

Hissmile held nothing the least alluring.

Itwas the polite smile an employer might give an employee.

Nothingmore.

If only that weren’t the case.

Aramintacontinued on her way, noting with a practiced eye the customers who meandered about the bookshop.

Twogentlemen, an elderly matron and her middling-age companion, and a young mother with two fresh-faced boys of perhaps six and seven years of age browsed the aisles with awed reverence. The patrons whispered to each other, uttering frequent exclamations of delight as they carefully perused the books that had captured their interest.

Asusual, there was no sign of LordCassius. He was probably off painting somewhere. He’d told her he had a gallery in Brighton but wanted to support his twin in his business venture and meant to stay in Woodhaven until the grand opening was over.

Aramintafound their good-natured, brotherly bantering amusing and charming.

Thoughshe adored her sisters, their age difference didn’t lend itself to the same comradery or emotional intimacy. She missed that the most about Mama—the companionship. And someone to share the workload. The twins tried to help, but after all, they were only ten.