She came to a halt before her favorite section, one full of questionable romantic novels. None of them were horribly scandalous, in Aurora’s opinion, but neither were they considered appropriate for an unwed young lady. And the very last place she’d ever expect to see the gentleman before her.
“Why, Mr. Healey. Whatever are you doing here?” Aurora tried to keep the surprise from her words. After a flurry of carriage rides through the park and a pleasant trip to Gunter’s where they’d sampled ices, Aurora hadn’t seen Healey much the last week, though he’d sent her flowers. It occurred to her, as she looked up into his handsome features, that while she liked Healey a great deal, she’d barely noticed his absence. Unlike the lack of Worth which pricked at her every day.
Perhaps I merely prefer Grisham.
Unfortunately, Aurora didn’t miss him either.
“If you recall, I adore Tate’s much as you do, my lady.” Healey’s gaze lingered over her bosom discreetly before clearing his throat.
“I remember your love of books, Mr. Healey, but you never mentioned you cared for novels of a romantic nature.”
His lips pursed as if tasting something not to his liking. “I’m on an errand for my uncle, Lord Kenebruke.”
“I wasn’t aware of his liking for such things. How is Lord Kenebruke?” Perhaps she could find out why he hadn’t called on Aunt Lottie or met her in the park.
“Ill, I’m afraid to say, and unable to leave his bed. A terrible cough settled in his chest, though he is now, thankfully, on the mend.” Concern lit his eyes. “I’m in no hurry to inherit, I don’t mind telling you.”
“I’m sorry to hear of it.” Kenebruke had been ill. Did Aunt Lottie know?
“The clerk directed me to this section, but—” Two tiny dots of pink appeared on his cheeks. “I must have misunderstood his direction. I assumed there would be books on military campaigns.” He looked at a scrap of paper in his hand.
Aurora giggled. “Not in this section, Mr. Healey. I thought you were here on purpose.”
“No.” Mr. Healey wedged himself against the shelf, attempting to hide the row of lurid romances from Aurora’s view. Which was ridiculous. “I’m—merely in the wrong aisle. I’m sure of it. My uncle couldn’t possibly wish a book from this area.”
Aurora bit her lip to keep from laughing at his obvious discomfort. This section was entirely devoted to juicy romantic tales, but the most shocking tomes were hidden on the other side. Thank goodness he hadn’t ventured any further. Poor Healey was definitely a prig, though not nearly as bad as Grisham, who would have burst into flames at only seeing the titles Mr. Healey was so desperately trying to shield Aurora from.
“Perhaps I can offer assistance, Mr. Healey, or at least help you find what you’re looking for. I daresay I am as familiar with Tate’s as Mr. Stevens.”
“Mr. Stevens?”
“The clerk.” She nodded to the front of the store. “You mentioned military battles and the like. Roman? Greek? Or—”
“My uncle asked for a specific title.” He peered at the slip of paper once more. “The Adventures of Captain Duncan.”
Aurora tried not to burst into a fit of giggles and risk offending Mr. Healey. “The Adventures of Captain Duncan? Are you certain?”
“The clerk, Mr. Stevens as you say, gave me an odd look when I asked for it by name and sent me to this area of the shop. But he must not have heard me correctly. I can’t imagine the memoirs of a sea captain would be in this section.”
“Rather scandalous reading,” Aurora said. “Captain Duncan, I mean.”
Aurora had readThe Adventures of Captain Duncan. As had Aunt Lottie. The main character, Captain Duncan, was a bold calvary soldier, who battled his way across the Continent while carrying on affairs with dozens of women. Romantic. Sensational. Lots of swords, of both kinds.
“Not military history, then.” A puff of resignation left Healey. He appeared quite put out. “I thought as much. I beg your apology, my lady, for even mentioning such tripe to you. I can see you are distressed. Forgive me.”
Good Lord.The books weren’tthatwicked. Kenebruke must have chuckled to himself at sending his overly starched nephew in search of the novel.
“I’ve readThe Adventures of Captain Duncan,” Aurora admitted.
Healey’s eyes widened. “You have?”
“Very enjoyable. Highly entertaining. Only a bit scandalous.” She reached around Healey and pulledCaptain Duncanfrom the shelf behind him. “He’ll enjoy it a great deal. I promise.” She handed the book to him, wanting to roll her eyes at the effort he made not to touch her fingers. At least he hadn’t collapsed in a fit of horror at having known Aurora had read the book. “You made no mention of Lord Kenebruke’s illness when last you called, Mr. Healey. Or left a note with the flowers you sent. You left me wondering over your absence.” Not entirely the truth becauseshe hadn’t honestly missed him. A fact Aurora meant to examine later. “I would have sent Lord Kenebruke a wish for a speedy recovery had I known.”
Healey made a disgruntled sound as he tookCaptain Duncanfrom her outstretched fingers. “You’ve actually read this, my lady?”
“I have.” Aurora didn’t look away. “Why did you not inform me your uncle was ill?”
He continued to study the book in his hands, running the tips of his fingers over the title. Healey kept his eyes averted from hers. “After our visit to Gunter’s, I arrived home to find him already with the physician,” he started. “My uncle overexerted himself in a business meeting, one he should have allowed me to oversee given how unwell he has been of late.” Healey’s jaw hardened. “I have been by his side ever since. I—didn’t want to worry you needlessly. My apologies,” he finally glanced up from the book in his hand, “for not sending word to you.”
