Page 9 of Estelle’s Ardent Admirer (The Bookshop Belles #1)

CHAPTER 9

Estelle Feels Pretty

L ocking the door at the end of the day, Estelle sighed happily to herself. A steady stream of customers had come into Baxter’s and she’d found books for nearly all of them. A broad smile crept over her face as she and Marie counted the day’s generous takings. If only every day could be this good. Or even every second day. Estelle wasn’t greedy.

“I’m glad you’ve taken my advice and become more assertive about asking for money,” Marie said.

“I can’t claim all the credit. Mr Yates paid for his books without prompting, and he bought several more, including an expensive one from the locked cabinet!” The moment she mentioned Mr Yates, she knew her sister would ask about him, so she kept talking about many of the other customers in an effort to distract her sister. “A few more days like today and we should clear all our bills. I wonder when the next crate of books will arrive?”

“Nice try,” Marie said as they went up to the kitchen. “Is Mr Yates coming to the assembly tonight?”

The question implied they’d discussed the assembly, but the subject had not come up in their conversations since they’d spoken about it at Ferndale Hall. “It might be a little declassé for him?” Estelle said, not sure whether she wished he would be there or not. The man confounded her intensely; she would soon be mixing up her left and right at this rate!

“Why would you say that?” Marie handed over some money to Mrs Poole so she could pay the bills for the butcher and the grocer. “Miss Yates chairs the hospital committee, and Lord Ferndale would never let her attend without him. I’m sure Mr Yates will be there in support of them. And it’s the perfect opportunity for Lord Ferdale to show the town his grandson is home.”

In the kitchen, Bernadette was fixing Louise’s hair, pinning up a mass of fine braids into a coronet.

“Your gowns look so lovely!” Estelle gasped. “Goodness me. And you made these from the gowns Miss Yates sent over?” She couldn’t imagine Miss Yates wearing anything so fashionable.

“Some of those old gowns used yards and yards of fabric.” Marie swished her narrow skirt around her ankles. “I could nearly have made two gowns out of it!”

“Wait until you see yours,” Louise said.

“Stop moving your head, Lou,” Bernadette commanded.

Louise kept talking. “You’ve had the world on your shoulders lately, Estelle, you deserve something nice.”

“Oh!” Estelle shook her head. “But you needn’t have bothered. I’m far too old for assemblies.”

Marie smirked and said, “You’ll change your mind when you see the dress.”

Mrs Poole and Marie shared a conspiratorial laugh and retrieved something from a hanger behind the door.

Estelle’s mouth dropped open as they revealed the gown to her; a shimmering length of green - was that silk ? - stitched all over in fine silver thread. “It’s incredible!”

Louise said, “You can thank Miss Yates in person when you see her tonight. She will be delighted to see us.”

“Stop moving your head!” Bernadette demanded in exasperation. “Marie, you’d better get started on Estelle’s hair, or we’ll all be late!”

Soon the five of them were ready. Estelle took her mother’s amethyst cross out of the small treasure box on her dresser and hung it on a mauve ribbon around her neck, marvelling at her reflection in the mirror. She did not look like the studious, hardworking Miss Baxter of Baxter’s Fine Books; she looked like a young lady of fashion.

“Not a thought in my head but frivolity and dancing,” she murmured, laughing at the nonsensical image. Frankly, it was highly unlikely anyone would even ask her to dance, but still she intended to enjoy the music and perhaps watch her sisters take a turn or two about the floor. Every eligible bachelor would no doubt want to dance with Bernadette.

They locked up the bookshop for the night and left Crafty in the kitchen, chewing on a fish head that Bernadette had bought from the market.

They made their way up the stairs of the Red Lion to the large rooms on the first floor, regularly used to host wedding parties, assemblies, harvest feasts and any event in Hatfield where twenty or more people might all wish to gather in the one place. Music was already playing, a jaunty tune from fiddle and piano, though as yet there was no sound of dancing feet, just an ever-increasing volume of chatter as they neared the doors.

Marie winced and slowed, making a face.

“Are you going to be all right?” Estelle asked sympathetically, pausing beside her sister.

“It is quite loud,” Marie said, but she put on a brave smile. “I’ll manage, I get so few opportunities to dance, and I do enjoy it.”

Estelle linked arms with Marie. “Come, let us go in together.”

The room was a riot of bright colours, ladies in gowns every hue of the rainbow and some of the men in waistcoats just as bright. Estelle couldn’t help but smile as she took in the dazzling spectacle. The sound of happy humanity enveloped them, as did the warm mixture of perfumes and pomades as people dressed for the occasion.

“Will you dance with Mr Yates, do you think?” Marie asked slyly. Estelle missed a step and stumbled, glad of her sister’s arm helping to keep her from falling flat on her face.

“He won’t be here,” she said with a disbelieving laugh. “Goodness, an assembly such as this? Far too ordinary for the likes of him.”

Why must they continue to mention that man? Just because he was handsome and rich and the grandson of one of their oldest family friends did not mean he was suitable marriage material. Not that Estelle had even entertained that topic. Too much.

“I think you just don’t want him to be here,” Marie pointed out. “Lord Ferndale and Miss Yates are already here,” she added, giving them a wave.

Estelle wanted to tell her sister to be quiet, which might perhaps have started an argument, but they were interrupted by their cousin Joshua marching over and standing before them, eyeing them up and down with a sneer on his face.

Urgh, that man! Estelle steeled herself for another confrontation.

“Good evening, Cousin Joshua,” Estelle said as politely as she could manage.

“Where did you get those gowns?” Joshua demanded, without so much as a greeting in return. “Ridiculous for Matthew to leave children in charge of a business, when you are spending all the profits…”

“We are not children, Cousin Joshua,” Estelle said, an edge to her voice as she steadied her breathing. Her heart was already pounding faster, but she was determined not to let him cower her. “And I do believe the business’s finances are none of your concern.”

Marie gasped in shock. To be honest, Estelle shocked herself at how bold she sounded. Joshua’s face turned puce, but Estelle held her ground and did not back down. She was sick and tired of Cousin Joshua criticising them and browbeating her and her sisters; his blatant lie a few days ago about their father’s demise had been the last straw. She couldn’t wait for the next crate of books to arrive. She’d triumphantly wave the next letter from her father in Joshua’s face.

“The finances are my concern,” Joshua countered. “The terms of the inheritance are that a business must be operating in that building, or it must be forfeit. It’s hardly running a business if there is no profit.”

The absolute weasel to bring that up! There was no way to keep this discussion going without it descending into scandal. That he would bring this up at a public assembly was simply outrageous. It was on the tip of her tongue to give him a set-down when they were interrupted with the most perfect timing imaginable.

“Miss Baxter!” a delighted voice exclaimed. Estelle gasped as Mr Yates came striding toward her through the crowd, gaze focused on her as though there wasn’t a single other person in the room. “What a delight to see you here! Miss Marie.” He offered Marie a quick bow, though his gaze returned quickly to Estelle’s face. “Miss Baxter, say you have a dance free for me? I shall be quite devastated if all your dances are promised already!”

His appearance was indeed the most fortuitous timing, as Joshua Baxter stood there, not sure if he should say something or move away.

Was he awaiting an introduction? Estelle almost laughed at the comical thought of Felix thinking she would be so popular as to not have any spare dances on her card. She had barely arrived; how could all her dances be promised when she had not spoken to a soul yet?

“You are too kind, Mr Yates,” she said, because he’d intervened at the perfect time. “I am quite at leisure to dance with you.” It would have the pleasant side benefit of providing an escape from Cousin Joshua. It might also make him peeved to see her having a jolly time and enjoying herself.

“Excellent! And since I have no doubt that you are far too proper to dance more than one or two sets with me, Miss Baxter, it would be my pleasure to dance with your sisters as well - you’ll save one for me, Miss Marie?”

“I should be delighted, Mr Yates.” Marie looked highly amused as Mr Yates bowed to her again before seizing Estelle’s hand, placing it on his arm, and marching her onto the dance floor to join the other couples forming up to dance the first set., leaving Cousin Joshua staring after them with an outraged expression on his face.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Mr Yates said in an admiring tone as they faced each other, waiting for the music to commence.

Estelle couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Not that you aren’t exceptionally pretty at all times, but that colour is quite stunning on you. Brings out the green in your eyes. I am enchanted!”

He was ridiculous, but he sounded so earnest, Estelle found herself smiling genuinely at him. He smiled broadly back, and it was with a light heart that she skipped along the line of couples, spotting in passing Lord Ferndale and Miss Yates watching on with indulgent smiles.

The dance was a country dance which only brought them back together as a couple for a moment or two every now and then, but Estelle thoroughly enjoyed herself anyway. It had been too long since she’d joined in a dance, and the steps came back to her like a fond memory.

When the music came to an end, Mr Yates bowed gracefully to her, and she made a curtsy.

She turned to walk off the dance floor only to be confronted by a wall of sour, disapproving faces. Cousins Joshua and Phoebe, some of Phoebe’s cronies who thought nothing should happen in Hatfield without their say-so, and Reverend Millings, the vicar of St John’s.

Estelle never understood why the vicar came to assemblies and other events at all. He was one of those people who believed any kind of fun or frivolity was a shortcut to Hell, and never failed to say so in his Sunday sermons. He glared down at her with disapproval now, but as she was quite accustomed to such an expression from him, it didn’t cut the way it used to. She could almost ignore him because this was his standard facial setting.

Cousin Phoebe, however, was a little more difficult to ignore, especially as she grabbed Estelle’s elbow and pinched. Estelle suspected she might have a bruise there tomorrow, and pulled her arm away sharply.

“How do you know Lord Ferndale’s grandson?” Phoebe hissed, and without waiting for Estelle to respond, immediately continued, “and how dare you not present him to us, you must introduce us immediately!”

Estelle was about to ask why Miss Yates hadn’t introduced them already, considering Phoebe had been standing near the Ferndales already, and she knew who Felix was. The noise of the evening drowned out the ability to think of a reason to refuse, but Estelle took her sweet time in any case. She nodded slowly to Phoebe that she’d heard the request, then turned equally slowly to look about the room to find where Mr Yates had gone.

He was not with his grandfather or great-aunt, which surprised her. Ah, there he was, by the lemonade table.

Phoebe grabbed her forcibly by the elbow and pushed the two of them forward. “There he is, now come on!”

There was a hint of desperation in her cousin’s voice warning Estelle that the evening could become a lot worse if she didn’t comply. She wouldn’t put it past Phoebe to have a very public conniption and make an enormous, ghastly scene where she’d make Estelle out to be the villain in the piece.

As they came closer to Mr Yates, Phoebe gave out a sudden, theatrical laugh and said, “Cousin Estelle, how you jest so!”

She hadn’t said anything, because Phoebe was simply calling attention to herself. It had the desired effect of making Mr Yates turn around though. He saw Estelle and beamed a heart-melting smile in her direction. Then saw the woman standing beside her and a slight furrow crossed his brow.

He was so utterly marvellous in recognising Cousin Phoebe’s tactics, as he delivered a wonderful set-down: “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Phoebe pretended it was a lively jest and made another overly-enthusiastic laugh.

Estelle spoke up, “Mr Yates, please allow me to introduce my cousin-by-marriage, Mrs Baxter.”

Phoebe darted a look her way and Estelle couldn’t truly explain why she’d added the clarifier.

“Mrs Baxter, I’m delighted to meet another of the estimable Baxter ladies of Hatfield. This town is truly blessed to have them.”

Phoebe turned herself about in such a way that she managed to push Estelle out the way. Then she possessively placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I am Mrs Joshua Baxter; my husband is the most esteemed Magistrate of Hatfield.”

As she spoke, she managed to guide Mr Yates away from the lemonade table and Estelle, which had been her purpose all along. Soon the two of them vanished into the crowd, leaving Estelle by herself. A slight pang of worry caught her, but she figured Mr Yates would cope with Phoebe.

A lemonade would be just the thing, so she picked up a glass. Then she saw Miss Yates nearby and retrieved one for her as well.

“Miss Baxter, you are a darling!” Miss Yates said, accepting the glass of refreshment. “That colour suits you to a nicety!”

“I cannot thank you enough, Miss Yates, for your generosity. My sisters were so happy to have the material to make so many new dresses.”

“I’m so pleased to see the clothes put to good use. And you look resplendent in the green, it’s my favourite colour as well.”

“Thank you again.” Honestly, if Estelle spent the entire night thanking Miss Yates it would not be enough. The dear lady was so generous, almost to a fault.

“Tell me, dear, what is Mrs Baxter doing with our Felix?”

Estelle rolled the name Felix around in her head and found she rather liked it. Because, she had to admit, she was rather beginning to like him. Not simply for his looks, but the way in which he’d rescued her from Joshua earlier, and was wary but polite to Phoebe, had truly lifted him in her estimations.

“Mrs Baxter wanted to be introduced, and now she and cousin Joshua and Reverend Millings are trying to bend his ear. I would hazard a guess they’re talking about how unsuitable assemblies are.”

“Not so unsuitable they don’t attend, mind,” Miss Yates quipped.

Estelle giggled behind her hand. “I guess they need to be in attendance so they bear witness to so much depravity. We’ll receive a stern lecture this Sunday, I’m sure.”

Now it was Miss Yates’ turn to giggle. “I do like your company, and your mind, Miss Baxter, you make me feel young. Now, how are you and Felix faring, this evening? I did see you dancing. I’m glad he took my advice. I trust he didn’t crush your toes?”

Far from it, he danced like a dream, and she felt herself flush a little at the memory. “He is a fine dancer, Miss Yates, and he spared my toes.”

Miss Yates put her empty glass down on a nearby side table.

From across the room, Felix turned back to Estelle’s position and appeared to be mouthing the word ‘help’.

Estelle said, “He appears to require extraction. Should we?”

“Pshaw, he has survived sailing the Mediterranean. He’ll survive a few minutes with your cousin. I’m sure it’s character building.”

A swoop in her stomach told Estelle she really should offer assistance. He’d come to her rescue, she should return the favour. Perhaps one of her sisters might want to dance? He had mentioned he would be happy to entertain them. Marie should be next; she’d much prefer to have a dance before things turned too noisy, as they often did as the evening progressed.

But no. From their position across the room, it appeared Cousin Phoebe was introducing Felix to her bosom friend Mrs Grey, who had three daughters to fire off; the eldest Miss Grey was simpering up at Felix as he bowed politely over her hand. Phoebe and Mrs Grey were obviously hinting very hard that Felix should ask Miss Grey to dance. It would be exceedingly rude if he refused to comply with the request. A moment later Felix and Miss Grey - Estelle sternly corrected herself and called him Mr Yates in her head - had joined the next forming set.

Estelle turned away, feeling faintly queasy. She simply couldn’t look. It shouldn’t matter that Mr Yates was dancing with the pretty, blonde, fashionably dressed Miss Grey. It really shouldn’t.

But somehow it did matter, very much, and Estelle did not like the squirming, pinching sensation in her stomach, the hot anger that burned her throat.

I’m jealous , she recognised, and thoroughly disliked herself for it.

“Those look delicious, my dear,” Miss Yates said, perhaps in an attempt to distract Estelle, as a maid put a platter of little pies and sandwiches down on the table behind them. “Why don’t you have a bite to eat?”

Estelle mustered a smile. “They do look good. May I prepare a plate for you too, Miss Yates? We can sit down just here.”

They sat down and nibbled delicately. Mrs Poole shortly joined them, chattering away happily to Miss Yates about the Hatfield Poor Society and how the donations from the assembly would be used. The two dear friends were on a few of the town committees, including the hospital committee. Hatfield didn’t have a hospital as yet, which was why they needed a committee to make sure they did eventually get one. It was mildly diverting listening to Mrs Poole and Miss Yates exchange gossip, and there was a lovely gem that had Estelle grinning to herself. Mrs

Phoebe Baxter had been trying ever so hard to be included in those committees, but somehow, she missed their meeting times.

It didn’t take a genius to work out Miss Yates and Mrs Poole were the ones who set those meeting times and were accidentally-on-purpose making them at the same time Mrs Baxter was otherwise engaged.

Estelle sat and watched the dancing, and found herself drawn to Felix. He had a jovial expression as he partnered with Miss Grey. Then her eyes moved to where Phoebe and Mrs Grey were watching events keenly.

There was something about Phoebe Baxter that had the power to extract all joy from the evening, and Estelle suddenly felt exceptionally tired.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Miss Yates leaned over, “Nothing will come of that ,” she said, indicating Miss Grey.

It shouldn’t matter who else Felix - Mr Yates - danced with. After all, she’d begun the night half-hoping he wouldn’t even be here. She’d had one dance, and any more than two with the same gentleman would set tongues wagging. Therefore Mr Yates had to dance with more ladies simply out of politeness and hospitality.

“Perhaps Marie would like to go home,” she mused, but no; Marie was not where Estelle expected. Her sister was dancing, with a sturdy young man she distantly recognised as a tenant farmer from the Ferndale estates. Sighing, Estelle sipped on her lemonade, and allowed herself to be drawn into the conversation between Miss Yates and Mrs Poole. Their suggestions were quite interesting, especially about the need for a hospital in Hatfield, and where it might be located. Soon she forgot about the frustrating Mr Yates and Miss Grey and entered fully into the topic.

She’d become so distracted she didn’t hear the music finish.

“You did promise me a second dance, did you not, Miss Baxter?” A deep voice speaking close to her ear startled her, and she looked around to see Mr Yates standing beside her, leaning down to speak with her.

He looked so happy with himself, she immediately became cross with him. “I thought you seemed to be enjoying yourself too much to do any such thing.” Immediately she wanted to snatch back the catty comment as soon as it left her lips. What was wrong with her tonight?

He gulped a little, but then regained his composure swiftly and that endearing smile of his was back. “I could not possibly achieve more enjoyment than I would gain from dancing with you again. Your cousin Mrs Baxter seems determined to present every eligible young lady in Hatfield for my attentions, though, and I should prefer to claim another dance with you before all of mine are spoken for.” He cast a slightly hunted look over his shoulder, then turned back to her and said, “Please?”

That one word melted her resolve and she knew he needed rescuing. “I should be very pleased to dance with you,” Estelle admitted, “and of course you did indicate earlier that you wished to dance with my sisters. Though I would not hold you to it, you could use such a promise as an excuse not to offer a dance to every young lady my cousin presentes to you.”

Mr Yates brightened as she made the suggestion. “You are as brilliant as you are beautiful, Miss Baxter,” he praised.

The guilty and slightly sick feeling in Estelle’s stomach eased. It was as if Mr Yates had discovered the secret to making everyone he met feel utterly charmed in his presence.

They had snatched conversations as they danced again, him complimenting her dress and she in turn praising his dancing proficiency. They kept as far from Phoebe as possible, but there were moments where the dance steps demanded they promenade near her clique. When that happened, he would say something complimentary about Estelle that made her blush, and always loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

A few steps later, they were heading away from Phoebe’s group. He appeared almost shy as he scratched at the back of his neck. He couldn't possibly be nervous, could he? Perhaps he was. Previously, when they’d held conversations, it had been in the quiet of the shop. Maybe he was a little like Marie in character, where loud music made it hard for him to concentrate. Even when she’d berated him for returning the wrong cat, he hadn’t appeared so nervous or shy as to - he just did it again, rubbing the back of his neck before he took her hand to lead her in a twirl.

As he moved, she could have sworn she caught a reddish mark above his collar. It was right where he’d scratched. Perhaps he had applied waters from Cologne and had developed an allergy? She smiled his way, then turned her head to scan the room to see if she could find Bernadette. Her youngest sister might have a balm for such an affliction, but Estelle could not see her at the moment.

They continued dancing and talking when they came together for brief moments.

“I do appreciate how much you care for my great-aunt,” he said. “She thinks a great deal of you, and your sisters.”

That was an easy one to follow. “Miss Yates is a dear friend, and much-loved member of the community.”

Again he seemed to nervously rub the inside of his arm against his neck, as if he was caught with nerves or had some kind of irritation. The next time they came together and held hands, she deftly slipped his sleeve further up his arm. Three raised dots in a line. Lightning fast, she pulled the sleeve back and held her breath. She was certain nobody had seen her, and kept dancing and chatting to appear as normal as possible. She talked of the weather, simply for something to say. “Yes, it is a lovely, mild night. We are lucky it is not too hot, nor is it raining.”

At last the music finished and she carefully muttered that they should slip away without letting anyone see them.

Mr Yates beamed with delight, but she furrowed her brow. She had most definitely given him the wrong idea, and would need to set him down gently.

When there was nobody to overhear them, she delivered the blow. “Mr Yates, I do not wish to make a scene, but I fear you have signs of bedbugs. Meet me in the archway next to the bookshop in five minutes.”

His face sobered and she felt immediately sorry for him. She was not attempting a moonlight assignment with him, she was attempting to protect him, and by extension the Ferndale family, from social ruin.