The Bookseller and the Earl Read online

  The Bookseller and the Earl

  The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book One

  Callie Hutton

  Contents

  About the Book

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Miss Addie Mallory is finished with the husband hunt. After six London Seasons as a wallflower, she convinces her parents that she should be allowed to use her dowry to buy a bookstore in Bath where she can live her life the way she wants.

  * * *

  Lord Grayson, Earl of Berkshire, has never gotten over his deceased wife’s betrayal with his own brother. He plans to make his life all about his son, Michael, who is deaf. When Grayson’s sister-in-law serves him with court papers declaring Michael incompetent with the intention of having her own son named as Grayson’s rightful heir, he turns to Addie, a dyslexic bookstore owner, for help.

  * * *

  Addie takes a personal interest in helping the boy. However, as time passes, Grayson and Addie’s joint venture to keep Michael from being declared incompetent leads to feelings and desires neither one of them expected.

  * * *

  Or necessarily wanted.

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  To Anna, who battles dyslexia every day

  Author’s Note

  Dyslexia is much more than reversing letters. At least in this enlightened age, the condition is not thought to be a lack of intelligence, as it was in previous years.

  * * *

  Dyslexia is a condition that affects more than the way you read. Dyslexics have a problem with directions – right, left, up, down, forward, backward. They have issues with social interactions and of course, a lack of self-esteem after so many failures to do and see what everyone else seems to accomplish with little effort.

  * * *

  Well-known dyslexics are among the most accomplished people in the world. Leonardo Da Vinci, Walt Disney, Albert Einstein, John Lennon, Pablo Picasso, and Steven Spielberg are a few of many among the group.

  * * *

  If you would like some additional information on how a child in school deals with dyslexia, there is a very interesting and eye-opening video available on You Tube when this book was written, called “How Difficult Can This Be – The F.A.T. City Workshop.”

  * * *

  When my daughter, who deals with this every day was going through school, I asked every one of her teachers to watch it. They found it so informative that many passed it along to their peers. As I say, a true eye-opener.

  * * *

  I hope you enjoy the story of Addie and her love of books, even though they were a struggle for her to read.

  Prologue

  February 1885

  London, England

  Miss Adeline Mallory accepted the footman’s hand and climbed from the carriage in front of her family’s townhouse in Mayfair. Her chaperone, Mrs. Wesley, followed her down the two short steps, then up the stone pathway to the stairs leading to the gleaming white front door with the well-polished brass knocker shaped like a roaring lion.

  Before she reached the top step, the door was opened by Grimsley, their ancient and much-loved butler. “Good evening, Miss Mallory. I hope you had a pleasant time at the ball.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had yet another entry to add to her ongoing chronicle Adeline Leaves the House. That was the running saga she kept in her journal, where each day she recorded the mishaps that happened to her every time she left the comfort of her home. Not that her life was full of mishaps—well, not all her life—but there were certainly enough to fill the pages of the three journals she’d kept since she had been old enough to write.

  Tonight’s misfortune, however, was the proverbial last straw. This Season was starting out no better than all the others. The red stain on her pale blue ball gown was a stark reminder of her clumsiness. Although she had a good reason to believe one of the girls who had hated her for years purposely jarred her elbow, making her glass of punch spill down the front.

  While she still had the anger churning in her stomach, she smiled and nodded at Grimsley, then marched down the corridor to the drawing room. Precisely where she knew her parents would be sitting this time of night, mother doing her endless needlework and father reading.

  Such a peaceful couple, how could they have produced such a clumsy, inept daughter? Adeline pushed away the self-pity slowly making its way into her thoughts. She’d accepted a long time ago that she was not like other girls. And at every single event for the past six years, the other girls made sure she knew it.

  Shifting the material on the front of her gown to cover the red stain, she said, “Good evening, Mother. Father.”

  Her parents looked up from their tasks and smiled at her. The love in their eyes almost brought her to her knees. How would they receive the request she was about to make? The last thing she would ever want to do was to hurt them, but she’d made up her mind on the way home from the Everson ball, and nothing would dissuade her.

  “How was your evening, my dear?” Mother patted the spot alongside her on the sofa as an invitation for Adeline to join her. Taking a deep breath, she settled next to Mother. “It was a typical ball. Nothing different.”

  “No special gentleman?” Father grinned.

  “No. I’m afraid not.” She kept a bright smile on her face, even though she was all knotted up inside and felt as if she were about to burst into tears. If she showed any sort of weakness, she would never get their permission.

  Mother patted her hand. “Not to worry, dear. The right man will present himself when the time is right.”

  “Soon, I hope,” Father mumbled as he picked up his book to continue reading.

  “Arthur!” Mother chastised.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it the way it came out.” He raised his book to cover his face.

  “Father, I need your attention.” She turned toward her mother. “Yours, as well, Mother.”

  Unable to sit any longer, Adeline hopped up and moved back a few spaces so she could see both of her parents clearly. It was nice to have a good view when one was about to break one’s parents’ hearts. “I shall not participate in another Season. I have attended my last ball.”

  Two pairs of blue eyes similar to her own looked up at her, Mother with a slight frown, Father with a more pronounced one. “What do you mean, dearest?” Mother said.

  “I am twenty-four years old, and by most measuring sticks, a spinster.” She raised her palm when both parents opened their mouths to speak. “Please let me finish. It doesn’t matter that you don’t think I am a spinster. The rest of the world perceives me as such.”

  Mother glanced over at Father, a look passing between them she’d seen many times before. It was the ‘whatever is she talking about now’ expression.

  Before she lost her nerve, she continued. “I am aware of my shortcomings and have accepted them.”

  Father shifted in his chair and placed his book on the table next to him. “Now wait just a minute—”

  “Please, Father. Hear me out.” She needed to stay angry. If she succumbed to their defense of her, and their resistance to see her as she actually was, she would dissolve into tears, and nothing would change.

  “I believe it is time for me to make my own way in the world.”

  Mother sucked in a deep breath and placed her hand over her mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to move away from London. And more than that, I want to own a bookstore.”

  “You want to work!?” Father came right up out of his chair. “No daughter of mine will work. And that is the end of it.”

  Her mother withdrew a lace-trimmed white handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and patted her eyes. “What have we done to make you want to do this to us?”

  Adeline dropped to her knees and took her mother’s hand. “I am not doing anything to either of you. I love you both with my whole heart. But the life you have always planned for me is not going to happen. In six years of husband-hunting, not one gentleman has shown any interest.”

  “There was Mr. Abercrombie,” Mother said.

  Addie sat back on her heels. “Mother. The man was fifty years old with children older than me. And,” she added with a smirk on her face, “he needed my dowry.”

  “Arthur, say something to her,” Mother begged.

  Father looked back and forth between her and her mother, and his face softened. “Perhaps she is right, Mildred.”

  “What?” The screech coming from her mother probably brought all the horses in Mayfair to an abrupt halt.

  Father studied her, tapping his lips with his finger. “Maybe it is time. I know it is not the normal thing for a young lady to move from her parents’ home and strike out on her own, but it might be the right thing for our daughter.”

  Mother moaned. “I cannot believe the two of you.” She looked down at Adeline, still on the floor at her feet. “You must find a
nice man. All right, maybe Mr. Abercrombie was not for you, but I shall ask among my friends. There are many sons, cousins, nephews, and friends of friends who we might introduce to you.”

  Adeline shook her head. “No, Mother. I am finished with the game. I don’t care if I never have a husband. I don’t care if I never have a child”—a slight lie there—“but I want to feel as though there is more to my life than changing clothes and attending social affairs.”

  Father moved to sit on the arm of the sofa and rested his hand on Mother’s shoulder. “This sounds like something you’ve thought about for some time. What do you have in mind?”

  Excited that Father would actually consider her plan, she demurely placed her hands in her lap and stared up at him. “There is a bookstore in Bath for sale.”

  “Bath!” Mother moaned again. “That’s on the other side of the country.”

  Ignoring her mother’s outburst, Adeline continued, “Since I will have no need for a dowry, I had hoped you would allow me to use the funds to buy the bookstore. I would get a small flat nearby and run the store.” She smiled, enthused about her plans. “You know how much I love books.”

  “But you can’t read,” Mother wailed.

  Thank you, Mother. It was always nice to hear one’s faults so adequately expressed.

  “I can read, Mother. It just is a bit difficult for me.”

  Ever since she’d picked up her first book and looked at the words, she’d had a problem. It appeared no one else saw what she saw because when she read, it all came out wrong. When her teacher told them she was lacking intelligence, her parents had removed her from school and hired a tutor.

  The tutor worked with her for years. She suggested that Adeline suffered from something recently termed word blindness, and she would have it her whole life. All Adeline knew of the condition was everyone else could read a book in a flash, their eyes moving back and forth over the lines on the page, while she had to stumble over every word. But that never stopped her love for books.

  She loved the feel of the book in her hands. She loved the smell of the ink when she opened the tome for the first time. She loved turning the pages, smiling, as if she could read that fast. ’Twas difficult when one loved something that didn’t love one back.

  Just then, her elder brother, Marcus, entered the room and saw her kneeling at her mother’s feet. “Paying homage to the Queen, Adeline?”

  “No. I’m pleading for a change in my life.”

  He walked to the sideboard and poured a small glass of brandy. Tall, confident, handsome, and charming, Adeline always idolized her brother, wishing she could be more like him and less like herself.

  His expression softened. “Will it make you happier than you were tonight at the Everson’s ball, poppet?” As usual, her brother had attended the same event, spending his time avoiding the marriage-minded mamas. She had only seen him briefly, but he apparently had been watching her.

  She blinked away the tears rushing to her eyes. “Yes. I believe so.”

  He downed the drink and shrugged. “Then do it.” With those curt words, he offered her stunned parents a slight bow and left the room.

  Chapter 1

  October 1886

  Adeline raised the shade in the front window of her bookstore, Once Upon a Book, making a quick note that the display needed to be changed. She generally did it the first of each month, but somehow she’d gotten busy with new inventory and had forgotten to do it.

  Every month she offered the spot to one local author to showcase their books. It had helped to build her business, and the authors had been grateful for help with their sales. In turn, those authors sent their friends to Once Upon a Book.

  She’d been considering forming a book club where she would invite local authors to read and discuss their books to the members. She had already started a children’s reading circle that met every Saturday morning.

  Addie—as she was now known in Bath—had turned into quite a good businesswoman and had never been so happy in her adult life as she’d been the past year.

  After many sessions of tears and pleading, Mother had finally relented and grudgingly offered her blessing to Addie's plan. Most likely, Addie's refusal to attend any further ton affairs eventually swayed her. Though she doubted Mother truly understood Addie’s decision. Before her father married her mother, she had been one of the ton’s Incomparables. She had enjoyed a social life with numerous suitors, flowers, rides in the park, and dance partners. Something Addie had never experienced herself.

  Father had generously bought not only the store for her, but instead of renting rooms, he’d purchased a small house at the edge of town, along with a carriage and a pair of Cleveland bays.

  Addie, however, had acquired a sturdy bicycle and was proficient enough to get around town without having to make use of the carriage. She found she only used the vehicle when traveling at night since bicycle riding was dangerous after dark.

  In one of the many sessions they had when considering the bookstore, Father had told her that as far as the business went, she was on her own for keeping it running. If she felt she was capable enough to take on the project, he would bow to her intelligence and capabilities and assume she could make enough money to be successful.

  She was thrilled with his confidence in her, and so far, she had done quite well and was happy with the money she’d squirreled away in the bank. The one concession she’d made to her parents was to bring Mrs. Wesley with her. Mother was appalled that she intended to live alone with no chaperone. No amount of arguments on Addie's part changed her mind, so Mrs. Wesley was happily ensconced in the second bedroom in Addie's little house. Her companion and chaperone spent most of her day keeping the household running and supervising the cook and one parlor maid Addie employed.

  Addie turned from the window and surveyed her kingdom. Highly polished dark wooden floors supported twelve bookcases. Half of the bookcases held non-fiction books on every subject available, shelved according to the new Dewey Decimal system—most times. With her word blindness problem, books occasionally got mixed up.

  The other half of the shelves contained novels, memoirs, poetry, and to her delight, many female authors. Miss Jane Austen, George Eliot, Mary Wollstonecraft, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Helen Hunt Jackson, and several others held spaces on her shelves along with the popular Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, and Lewis Carroll.

  Instead of the fussy wallpapers so prevalent everywhere, she had decided on cream-colored walls with pale green trim. The only artwork displayed on the walls were a few paintings of mostly soothing scenery done by a local artist.

  Most days, the long windows along the sides of the building and the front bay window provided enough light for customers, but for evening and cloudy days, she had two pendant gas lights attached to the ceiling and a few gas lamps on small tables scattered around the room.

  With feather duster in hand, Addie smiled as she dusted the shelves, lost in her thoughts, until a soft tinkle of the bell hanging over the front door sounded, alerting her to the arrival of a customer.

  “Addie, where are you hiding?” Charlotte Danvers, known as Lottie to her friends, called out as her eyes swept the store.

  Sticking her head around one of the bookcases, she said, “Back here, Lottie. I’m dusting the shelves.”

  Lottie was one of the two best friends Addie had made since her move to Bath. At the mere age of twenty, Lottie had also escaped London and its frivolity. A strikingly beautiful girl, Lottie held a secret close to her heart that she hadn’t shared, even with her best friends. The only personal thing Addie and Lady Pamela knew about Lottie was that she was estranged from her mother, who lived in London.