Page 19 of Marie’s Merry Gentleman (The Bookshop Belles #2)

CHAPTER 18

Homecoming

T hey arrived in Cambridge to deliver Mr Charles, who was in a happy disposition. He was full of thanks and praise for a comfortable journey that was also deeply entertaining. He chose not to elaborate on that, and Senastian chose not to inquire. Then he farewelled the boys and wished them all the best for the term.

He was a good man, Sebastian mused. It was dreadful to think the only way to provide him with a living was if one of his other vicars passed away. Answering the call to God was something of a brutal business, when all was said and done.

Then the tutor turned to Miss Baxter and said, “I do hope we cross paths again in the future.” The cheeky fellow then looked at Sebastian with a knowing glance.

You’ll keep!

With four of them in the carriage now, Richard swapped sides to sit with him, and they all had a little more room for their feet and legs.

Sebastian now sat directly opposite Miss Baxter, and he had to force his gaze out the windows to stop from drinking the image of her in. He was making a portrait to store in his memory, but it would not do to stare. How odd that they used to share such long comfortable silences together in the library and yet now he couldn’t bear being this close and not knowing what to say.

Oh dear. He tore his gaze from her face yet again and looked out of the window, determined to make a comment about the weather and the landscape, all the while finally recognising that strange feeling in his ribs and belly.

He was in love.

And he didn’t have a clue about how to fit inside his own skin any more.

This was excruciatingly uncomfortable and yet so understandable.

He, Sebastian Panton, Earl of Renwick was completely besotted and hopelessly in love with Miss Marie Baxter, of Baxter’s Fine Books, Hatfield.

When it happened wasn’t quite evident, but it had happened. Somewhere between the first kiss and the second? When he’d caught the bedraggled waif on his doorstep?

He was done for.

So why could he not stop smiling?

He knew a way to make himself stop smiling, and that was to realise the distance to Hatfield grew closer and closer. The minutes seeming to speed by ever faster, until he had to farewell Miss Baxter.

When they reached Hatfield, their rooms were ready at the Red Lion. The grooms and porters dealt with their luggage, while the four of them walked straight into the bookshop that had brought them together.

George and Richard charged in and and yelled with delight, “Look at all these books!”

The sight of so many books warmed his heart, but what was even lovelier was seeing Marie embrace her sisters.

Their housekeeper, Mrs Poole, introduced herself while the sisters were caught in their embrace. She took his hat and gloves and put them aside for him.

The three sisters had tears in their eyes as they laughed and chatted over each other.

Eventually they pulled apart and Marie made introductions. Louise was the taller, sturdier one and Bernadette was a charming, younger copy of Marie, without glasses. There was a young girl named Ruth, a shop assistant, and a boy who Marie introduced as her cousin Brutus, who looked to be very close in age to George and Richard. The three boys took to each other immediately, Brutus leading George and Richard off to explore the shop.

He was tempted to follow the children to see what they got up to, but he really wasn’t invested in eavesdropping on children right now, not when the Baxters had promised they’d set aside so many marvellous books. “And where would I find the other books you asked your sisters to set aside for me, Miss Baxter?” he asked Marie.

They were in a locked cupboard beneath the counter, and Marie soon had them out for him. He nearly salivated at the sight of the books they had waiting for him, except it would damage them to drool. There were first editions here and atlases of the known world and hand-illustrated manuscripts from a French monastery which were literally unique. His heart warmed at the sight of them; he needed them like a dragon needed to hoard treasure. He could have sat there all afternoon looking at them, but he didn’t have the time. Instead he contented himself with a quick examination to check that each book was indeed what he thought, before going on to the next. Marie stood beside him, making a list of the books in an account ledger and keeping a running total of his expenditure. Her two sisters had moved a short distance away, but he was aware that they were watching him.

He was sure he heard one of Marie’s sisters make a comment that included the word “demanding” and then something else about, “but he’s nice!”

He tried not to listen, but couldn’t help it. He was fairly sure they were talking about him. Marie seemed to be trying to ignore her sisters, and he was glad to have her attention for the small time remaining to them.

He soon had his leather-bound treasures in a pile, but he could not bring himself to leave the shop just yet, or Marie’s company. He simply had to browse the shelves and see what else might be in here.

He stacked up some more books he wanted to purchase. There was plenty of room in the carriage for more books with only three of them continuing on to Eton now.

George and Richard had found some books they wanted too, and it was quite a pile when Sebastian reluctantly stopped and asked Marie to total everything up.

“I’ll package them up for you to collect them in the morning before you leave,” Marie promised, and he nodded, glad of the excuse to see her again.

Reaching for his hat, he was startled to find it oddly heavy, and then a young black-and-white cat popped up out of it with a miaow!

Miss Louise introduced the cat as the Pied Piper, or Pie for short, the kitten they had been keeping for him. A sturdy little fellow, the boys took to him at once, and Sebastian could not resist their hopeful faces.

“Would you keep him for me, for a week or two? I shall come back this way once I’ve finished my business in London,” he said to Marie, trying not to feel too elated over the opportunity to see her one more time. He’d been feeling miserable at the thought of not seeing her again, but of course he could call back this way on the journey north.

“I certainly will! He is yours. I am sure he’ll have a wonderful life hunting down all the mice in Alston Castle for you.”

“Mrs Ellwood will like him, I think.” They shared a smile, and he could have gazed into her eyes forever.

The bell jangled, and he looked around to see a large fellow step into the shop, a smile coming to his face as Miss Louise greeted him. Sebastian’s mouth dropped open in surprise; he recognised the man, though it wasn’t someone he’d ever have expected to see here. It was Jackson, who he’d known during his days in London, working with the War Office. He couldn’t imagine what an army investigator was doing in a small town like Hatfield. And another thing, he wasn’t sure if he should publicly acknowledge that they knew each other, on the off chance the man might still be working on something. A polite greeting later, and Sebastian knew at least one thing Jackson was doing; he was courting Miss Louise. The man could hardly take his eyes off the tallest Baxter sister.

Sebastian knew just how he felt, except his fascination was with the sister in glasses, just then cuddling Pie the kitten and chastising him for leaving a messy pile of mouse entrails on the floor.

“I’m hungry, Pa,” George said, tugging at his hand, and Richard declared his agreement.

Much though he wanted to linger in Marie’s presence, his sons needed to be fed, and put to bed. He bade a reluctant good night to the Baxter sisters and led the twins out of the bookshop.

They stayed the night at The Red Lion and a hazel-eyed lady wearing ear mufflers filled his dreams. He was aching to see her in the morning, but also wanted to get away as soon as possible to avoid having to say goodbye. He really didn’t want to. Then he remembered this farewell wouldn’t be for long, and that made his breakfast sit better in him.

He would return this way, along the Great North Road from London, take the cat and any more books he might like, and suddenly his day seemed brighter.

Metaphorically, of course, it was raining miserably.

The bookshop was already open when they brought the carriage around. How convenient of them to be located so close to the inn.

They walked in to say their farewells, the boys pushing ahead to find Brutus and wish him the best. Then they smothered Miss Baxter in hugs and gave variations of, “We will miss you, Miss Baxter!” and “You’re terrific!”

Her face crumpled with grief as she hugged them farewell. “I have one more gift for you, to take to Eton,” she said, reaching for a piece of paper behind the counter. “I made this for you.”

Sebastian swallowed past the lump in his throat as he recognised the subject matter. It was Alston Castle, from the view of the restored side.

“Oh wow!” George said, “Now we’ll be able to see home all the time.”

Unshed tears sparkled in Miss Baxter’s eyes, his own vision blurred too.

“You must have stood out in the snow to draw this,” Richard said. “You had this the whole time?”

Miss Baxter smiled and said, “I drew it last night,” as she knuckled away tears from her cheek. “I did it from memory, but I cheated a little and put the snowman up on the hill behind the castle.”

“That is incredible,” Sebastian said, his voice husky.

Her lips trembled at the compliment. Then she reached for two books and handed them to the boys. “And please take these too,” she said, “Your French has come along so well, I thought you might like some stories from France.” The boys looked at the bound copies and winced a little. They were Paul et Virginie by Jacques-Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre and Les Rêveries du promeneur solitaire by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

“It’s not homework, but I thought reading these adventures might be a good way to keep your French continuing.”

They made a quick face to each other that Sebastian recognised as a secret twin thing, then they threw themselves on Miss Baxter again.

“Oh boys, I shall miss you,” she said, sniffling away.

“Can we write to you?” George asked hopefully. “In English?”

“Of course you can, as often as you like,” she said.

Sebastian wanted to ask if she would write to him as well, but recognised it would be inappropriate… until he realised he could ask her to tell him about new books being delivered that he might be interested in.

“Of course, my lord. As soon as the next crate comes from my father,” she promised when he made the request.

Then Louise handed him a large, well-wrapped parcel, his purchases from the previous day, and a smaller parcel which was the books the boys had chosen.

With a sudden pang, he realised he had no more excuses to stay.

Marie came out to wave them off. The boys waved madly through the coach’s windows until she was entirely out of sight, at which point they both began to cry.

Sebastian put an arm around each of his sons and hugged them tight. There really was nothing he could say to comfort them when he felt like crying himself.

Misery had Marie well and truly in its grip. She made her way downstairs the next morning and checked the hessian at the bottom of the staircase. It looked new and un-shredded. No need to replace it. The floors were free of entrails as well. A sigh of gratitude escaped that she didn’t have to do that particularly messy job. It had been one of Estelle’s tasks that had fallen to her after their eldest sister had married, but Bernadette or Louise must have done it today.

She moved behind the counter to check the ledgers, sure they might need correcting after her long absence. To her surprise, they were up to date and correct. She didn’t recognise the writing; it certainly wasn’t Louise’s hand. Perhaps she’d hired someone to do them in her place?

Mrs Poole and Bernadette had already been down ahead of her and were lighting the last lamp and the fire, secured behind the protective folding shield. When they were finished, Louise checked to make sure they were secure and safe anyway. Then she checked the front of the store to make sure the fire insurance shingle was secure. It was firmly in place.

Despite missing her family and needing to come home, Marie couldn’t help thinking there was nothing for her to do here any more.

Thanks to Felix marrying Estelle, they had far more manageable debts and they also had Rosie to help upstairs. Not forgetting Ruth and Brutus, who arrived at that moment with cheery smiles. They kept the shelves neat and clean, Ruth was learning to serve customers and take money, and Brutus loved assisting Louise with glue-making and book repairs.

If Marie’s ankle still ached, she’d have a ready excuse for her misery, but even that had healed quickly.

Over the course of the day, Louise and Bernadette told her to get lots of rest after her travels, they had everything under control.

That was the problem; Marie needed to be useful but her sisters didn’t seem to need her.

She almost wished she could fall down the stairs and injure herself again, so she could have a right proper tantrum about the unfairness of the world.

It wasn’t her ankle that ached at all, but her heart.

She hadn’t slept for thinking about Sebastian. And the boys too. But mostly Sebastian. Louise and Bernadette kept giving her gentle looks of sympathy. Instead of making her feel better, she only became angry that they were showering her in pity. She didn’t want pity, she needed to feel wanted. Instead, they kept sending her back to her room to rest.

Knitting helped her pass the time, but soon her thoughts strayed to Sebastian and how much he had admired her ear mufflers.

Dear heavens, she was thinking of him as Sebastian and not the Earl of Renwick. That phrase Mrs Ellwood had used, about reaching farther than your sleeves would allow, hit her hard. She surely was reaching too far to think an Earl would consider marriage to a shopkeeper.

Waking with a headache the next morning, Marie forced down some tea and toast and headed downstairs into the shop.

“Oh!” Her heart bashed against her ribs at the sight of Mr Jackson and Louise kissing.

They pulled apart at their discovery.

Shaun cleared his throat and muttered something about getting back to the accounts.

Louise laughed and said, “Far better it be Marie than cousin Joshua.”

Shaun said nothing, but his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

Marie huffed and headed upstairs, her vision blurring with tears.

She made it to the table where Mrs Poole offered her a currant bun and fresh tea. She couldn’t eat a thing, and her stomach was almost sloshing from the amount of tea she’d had, courtesy of Mrs Poole constantly refilling her cup.

Her unshed tears spilled over and she knuckled them away.

Louise reached the kitchen, slightly puffed. A moment later, her sister’s arms were around her in a tight embrace.

Mrs Poole fussed over her and said she needed to eat something. “You’ve hardly touched your currant bun.”

Louise said, “Oh Marie, I’m so sorry you walked in on me and Shaun kissing…”

“Wait, you were kissing Mr Jackson?” Mrs Poole said, startled, but Louise waved her off.

Marie shook her head, gulping back sobs. “It’s not that, Lou, it’s… oh, I love him, and… and…”

The end of her sentence drowned in a sea of sobs and tears.

“And he’s coming back,” Louise said. “In a few days, to collect Pie, you’ll see him again.”

Marie cried some more and pushed the currant bun and the tea away. “I love him but it’s impossible. He’s an earl for goodness’ sake!”

Louise hugged her again. Bernadette arrived home and she and Louise tried to catch her up on all the events that had happened in her absence, most of which seemed to revolve around Mr Jackson, who had apparently been helping Louise with the accounts in addition to kissing her. And there was an arsonist causing plenty of trouble in the town, but they told her that was well in hand.

“I do wish you happy,” Marie said to Louise, as her vision blurred again with fresh tears, “I’m so sorry I spoiled what was otherwise a sweet moment. I didn’t mean to. I will get over my misery soon. I hope.”

“Take as long as you need,” Louise said, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Marie wiped her face with a handkerchief and said, “So, you and Mr Jackson?”

Louise grinned back at her, trying to rein in her happiness and failing miserably. Her smile was too broad. “Yes, but we’re keeping things quiet until he captures the arsonist.”

“At the rate I’m crying, we can put the next fire out with my tears,” Marie said, trying to make light of it and failing miserably.