Page 7 of Enamored with the Bluestocking (Romances of Intrigue #4)

Matthew cleared his throat, catching the attention of the bookshop owner who, turning, bowed quickly and then came back towards his desk.

“Yes, my lord?” he asked, smiling. “Might I be able to help you?”

“I – yes.” Matthew frowned, uncertain as to how he was to go about asking as to whether or not this fellow was acquainted with Tom Jones. After all, they were in the same class in society and surely that would make them a little more inclined towards being acquainted. If this was where Lady Sarah had said that the fellow could be found, then it might well be that someone here – such as the bookshop owner – would know him.

“My lord?”

Matthew nodded to himself, then looked back to the man. “I wonder if you are acquainted with a man by the name of Tom Jones?”

The bookshop owner blinked, his smile drifting away. “Tom Jones?”

“Yes.” Matthew spread out his hands. “I am searching for him. I believe that he was taken in by a local squire as a child. That is all I know of him.”

For some reason, a glimmer entered the man’s eyes. “Yes, I believe that I do know Tom Jones. He was half in love with a young lady who, unfortunately, was a little out of reach given her situation and his though he did do very well being raised at the Allworthy estate.”

Relief washed over Matthew. “Then you do know him! Please, where can I find him? I must speak with him over a particular matter.”

What sounded like a chuckle escaped from the man’s mouth, making Matthew frown hard as his stomach clenched, filled with a sudden misgiving.

“I do believe that, at the end of the story, Tom Jones is discovered to be the nephew of Squire Allworthy and, given that he now has inheritance and standing, he married the lady he loves. They had a son and a daughter too, though that is where the tale comes to an end.”

Matthew stared blankly at the fellow, a slight buzzing coming into his ears. He could barely take in what had been said to him, struggling to make sense of all that had been revealed. The man chuckled again, though he rubbed one hand over his mouth at the very same time as if to hide the sound and, all at once, mortification rattled through Matthew’s frame, making him drop his head and squeeze his eyes closed.

“Am I to understand” he breathed, “that this Tom Jones is a character in a book?”

The bookshop owner nodded, his eyes dancing though no smile lingered on his face. “Yes, my lord, that is just so. I can fetch you the first book, if you like?”

Matthew blinked furiously. “The first?”

Again, the man nodded, tipping his head as he studied him. “Yes, my lord. There are eighteen sections in total though I should say that it has become a very popular work of late and I expect that it will continue to do well.”

Another wave of mortification washed over Matthew and he swallowed hard, turning his head to look out of the window rather than at the man. “If you would be so kind as to fetch me the first part of this novel,” he muttered, his hand curling into a fist as he battled his embarrassment. Clearly, this man not only thought it funny that Matthew had come in to ask about a literary character, he now also thought it surprising that Matthew had not even read a part of this supposedly famous novel! A list of excuses sprang into Matthew’s mind – he did not read often, it was not part of the expected reading during his time at Eton, he was much too busy with matters of business to spend time reading novels – but he said none of them. There was nothing that would save him from the mortification of this, he could tell.

“At once, my lord.”

The man stepped away and Matthew, his gaze now fixed on the window and breathing hard, suddenly caught sight of a familiar face.

Lady Sarah.

She was standing next to Lady Catherine and they were speaking together, though no smile lingered on either face. Fury bit down hard on Matthew’s heart and before he could even think, he found himself outside, rushing towards Lady Sarah.

“He is in a book ?!” The anger which poured into each of Matthew’s veins was so strong, he felt his whole frame practically boiling with it as he now stood face to face with the person who had set up this foolish situation in the first place. “I spoke to the shopkeeper and he laughed at me! He tried to hide it but I could see it in his expression. How dare you trick me in such a way? How dare you pretend that this was someone I ought to be acquainted with?” Shaking one finger at her, Matthew waited for her response, expecting her to be embarrassed, to be so mortified that she would lower her gaze, drop her head and apologise.

Instead, Lady Sarah reached out, knocked his finger away and grasped his hand as though to stop him raising it at her again, taking a step closer to him as she did so. Her response was clear and unexpected, her gaze fixing to his.

“I hardly think that you need to be upset over the fact that you are not well read, Lord Downfield. That is hardly my fault. I did not ever tell you that Tom Jones was a real and genuine person, did I?”

“I... ” Her hand on his sent a streak of lighting right through him, stealing away his anger in a moment. It was as though her touch had doused his anger completely, leaving him off-balance and ill at ease. He could not give her an answer, her determination to defend herself chasing away all of his defensiveness.

“Did I?” she asked again, her hand pressing his and sending another spiral through him. “Or did I simply make it clear that he was someone you ought to acquaint yourself with? I am surprised to know that a gentleman who has been to Eton had not read Henry Fielding’s book!”

Hesitating, Matthew paused and, recognizing that what she had said was quite correct, he closed his eyes and took a step back, shaking his head. There was nothing for him to do but to admit to it, he realized, his own shame beginning to creep upon him as he saw how foolishly he had reacted. No doubt he had quite shocked the lady and, given that his reputation was already a little affected by his previous behavior towards her, this had certainly only made it worse. “I – I suppose you did not.” Opening his eyes, he kept them away from the lady, mortification sweeping over him again – though this time, it came from his own shame, his own recognition of his hasty response and his ill-considered actions.

There came slight pause. Lady Sarah, her voice softer now, let out a small breath.

“I can see that you are incensed by this supposed duplicity of mine, but I am certain I told you these questions of mine, these little tricks would be mysteries, did I not? And if I called them that, then surely you would understand that they were not about to be simple and straightforward?” She squeezed his hand and then released it. “Or was that unclear to you?”

When she removed her hand from his, a sense of loss tugged at him but Matthew batted it away just as quickly as he could. Every single word she spoke to him was true, Matthew admitted – though he did not say a single thing out loud. Lady Sarah had told him that these were mysteries but he had not given that much thought. Evidently, he should have done. Rubbing one hand over his eyes, he pushed his hand through his hair. What was there for him to say to this? Should he open his mouth and admit that he had been wrong? The thought send a rebellion through him and he scowled, refusing to even consider the idea for even a moment longer.

“I think we should take our leave, Lady Catherine.” Lady Sarah let out a small sigh and looked back at him. “Good afternoon, Lord Downfield.”

A sudden desperation washed over him and reaching out, he caught her wrist. “Wait! I have given you the answer, have I not? I have told you that it is Tom Jones, the literary character in Henry Fielding’s novel.” He did not release her, something in his heart delighting in the gentle touch they shared and noting that she also had not pulled her hand away. Much to his disappointment, however, Lady Sarah shook her head.

“You have not told me about his character and his behaviour and how it differs from your own. You do recall that this is what was required, I hope?”

A scowl tugged at his features. “But that means that I shall have to read the book.” That was the last thing he wished to do. He did not want to waste his precious hours here in London by reading! What he wanted to do very much was spend as much time as he could in the company of those who admired him, who would compliment him and make him feel as though he were the very best gentleman in all of London. Lady Sarah and her foolish games were stealing that from him. But it is not as though I can turn back now. If I give up, then she will have even more to tell the ton, even without embellishment!

“ And by reading it, you will further educate yourself,” came the reply as she freed her wrist from his grip. “That cannot be too bad a thing, can it?”

Matthew could not answer that, not wanting to say that yes, it was a good thing while silently aware that it was yet another truth she was offering him. “But there are eighteen sections,” he muttered, pushing one hand through his hair before replacing his hat upon his head. He let himself watch her, seeing the slight limp and how heavily she leaned on Lady Catherine. Guilt poured into him, a guilt that he had never really felt before and, disliking the feeling, Matthew turned away. Yes, he admitted, he had caused Lady Sarah pain and yes, he had not apologized as he ought to have done but there was no need to feel any sort of overwhelming guilt. He was already suffering consequences because of it, was he not? To have even more now was a foolishness.

“Forgive me for my brief absence. I had someone to speak with.” Matthew came back to the man at the desk, seeing a small book set before him. “This is for me, I presume?”

“It is.”

“I shall require the rest also,” Matthew said, heavily. “It seems that I am to educate myself on this Tom Jones.”

The bookshop owner, much to Matthew’s relief, did not say a single thing but instead simply nodded and then went in search of the other parts. With a heavy sigh, Matthew picked up the first book and thumbed through to the first page.

It is a little surprising that a lady would have read such a long novel , he thought to himself, turning the page over to the next. Though some young ladies do enjoy reading all manner of foolishness, I suppose.

Sighing inwardly at how much time he would have to devote himself to in order to read this novel, Matthew paid for it all and, a stack now under his arm, stepped out of the bookshop and made his way back to his carriage.

***

“You are reading?”

Matthew looked up as Lord Rutherford sat down opposite him, his eyes wide. “Good evening, Rutherford. Yes, as you can see.”

“Goodness. I do not think I have often seen a gentleman spend an evening in Whites with a book in his hand!”

“And yet, I must.” Matthew looked up at his friend. “I have discovered Tom Jones.”

“Ah.” A look of understanding rippled across Lord Rutherford’s expression, his lips curving into a smile. “And do you now understand what Lady Sarah was speaking of when she referred to your behaviour being lesser than his?”

Matthew sniffed. “Not as yet,” he stated, refusing to admit to anything. “I have discovered that he can sometimes be a drunken lout and that is not in the least bit gentlemanly.”

At this, Lord Rutherford rolled his eyes and laughed. “You are so proud that you will not admit that Tom Jones has some better traits than you in how he relates to others?” he asked, pointedly.

Shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair, Matthew set the book to one side and reached for his glass of whiskey. “I will not say that the man does not have some excellent traits,” he said, trying to push away the question. “I do not think that I need to say any more than that to Lady Sarah.”

“No?” Lord Rutherford shook his head. “I hardly think that she will permit you to have only that as an answer. It seems to me that she is looking for some acknowledgement from you that you have failed where Tom Jones succeeded.”

“And why must I compare myself to a fictional fellow?” Matthew exclaimed, his stomach twisting this way and that. “Why must I confess that where he is kind-hearted, I am cold. Where he is sympathetic, I am disinterested, where he is generous, I am selfish. Why must I say such things to her? It appears to me that she knows such things about me already though I would prefer it if she did not have such an impression.”

Silence reined for a minute or two, with Lord Rutherford taking a sip of his glass but letting his gaze rove around the room rather than answering Matthew’s question. The words that he had spoken ran through Matthew’s mind, making him wince as he realized what it was he had admitted to aloud.

“Why is it that you want the lady to have a better impression of you, I wonder?” Lord Rutherford asked, quietly. “Is it solely because of your reputation? Solely because you wish for her to know you better?”

Scoffing at this, Matthew shook his head. “I have very little thought in hoping that the young lady will know me better.”

“Then it is because of your reputation.”

The gnawing feeling in his stomach returned as Matthew nodded, choosing to say nothing but instead, looking away. Why was it that he wanted Lady Sarah to think better of him? Was it solely because of his own self-interest? Because he wanted his reputation to be improved upon by both herself and Lady Catherine? Or was there something more? Letting himself think back to the day when she had reached out and caught his hand, almost a sennight ago, Matthew scowled darkly. Yes, he admitted, there had been a rush of feeling but he had not liked that sensation. He had not wanted there to be any sort of delight in his heart as regarded her closeness. He found her irritating, frustrating and entirely ridiculous… did he not?

“I think that is what you should say to Lady Sarah,” Lord Rutherford said, with a slight lift to his eyebrow when Matthew looked back at him. “I think that you should inform her that yes, you have recognised that you were all that you said to me just now. That will content her, whether you mean it or not.”

“I do mean it.” Closing his eyes so as to hide Lord Rutherford’s astonished look from affecting him, Matthew forced himself to speak honestly. “I will not pretend any longer. Yes, I was unsympathetic and uncaring as regarded my response to injuring Lady Sarah. I told her that she was the one to blame rather than being apologetic. I knew that it was my fault and instead, I wanted her to take responsibility.”

“For what purpose?”

Sighing, Matthew looked back at his friend. “So that my reputation would not be tarnished,” he said, simply. “So that no-one began to speak of me as a foolish, clumsy gentleman but instead put all the blame upon Lady Sarah.”

His friend nodded slowly. “I see.”

“And I am going to have to say this to her, am I not?” Matthew continued, his whole being rebelling against that idea. “I do not want to but – ”

“But if you are to be free of this mystery, then yes.”

Matthew chuckled grimly. “Only to be given the next one, yes?”

Lord Rutherford grinned. “Yes, indeed. Though you may not agree with me and no doubt you will be displeased with this but, as I have said before, I think that this will do you good.”

Not quite ready to admit to any such thing, Matthew shook his head. “I do not know. Thus far, all it has brought me is embarrassment and frustration.”

“Which may serve you well, in the end,” Lord Rutherford said, quietly. “When will you speak to her?”

Matthew closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Whenever I see her next, I suppose.” As he spoke, something flickered in his heart, something that spoke of a faint hope or an expectation of delight in spending time in the lady’s company again… but that could not be so, could it? There was nothing about Lady Sarah that he appreciated, nothing about her company he enjoyed and he certainly had no interest in being any longer in conversation with her, he reminded himself, sternly. To let himself feel anything else would be nothing but foolishness.