Bewildered by Love (Kendawyn Paranormal Regency) by Allen Amanda A

Author:Allen, Amanda A. [Allen, Amanda A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Raining Ink
Published: 2015-04-28T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Phoebe walked through the shop she owned. She rarely visited and never with notice. It was run by a Mr. Thomas Iverning. Not even Iverning knew she owned the entire building. He had been poor, maligned, and desperate when she hired him, and their partnership had been born of mutual need. She’d saved him with what little money she’d inherited, and he’d saved her with his willingness to be the face of their trade.

To keep her secrets.

It was only Iverning and her man of business who knew her secrets. Her man of business had worked for her aunt and then Phoebe for centuries. He had an impeccable past. He was trustworthy without question.

Iverning was not.

The shop was near to closing for the evening, and Iverning was arranging displays in the corner. He hadn’t heard her enter for she’d brought her wolf to the forefront and stepped so lightly the tiny bell didn’t ring. She ran her fingers over the little puzzle boxes made by an artist that she had discovered and written to Mr. Iverning to contact.

The shop was filled with the work of people like Phoebe. Those who struggled to support their families and their lives in a world that denied them honest work. The fifth son of a lord would hardly be hired by some random merchant. They hired their own—those who’d been raised and trained, not spoiled princelings without inheritances or business know-how. Augustus Palmer, the artist, could now support his family—because of his connection to her shop. She’d sought him out. The man had eight children. Eight no longer hungry children. Iverning had escaped debtor’s prison because of what she’d done for him. The paintings that hung around the shop were for sale and supported a genteel artist who lived with her cousins from Dremmerington. Eventually Miss Howser would be able to afford her own apartments—the girl’s simple dream was to not be a burden to her family.

Phoebe had made this shop into something beautiful because it provided an outlet for those who were simply trying to get by. She was proud of it.

Mr. Pallister would never keep her secret. Nothing that Henry Darcy could do to Mr. Pallister would stop his revenge if she turned down his marriage proposal. She was so proud of this shop and what it stood for. And if it died, the artists who it supported would, perhaps, find other stores. But some wouldn’t.

Some of those children would go hungry. Some of those dreams would die.

That couldn’t happen.

“Lovely day,” she said from immediately behind Mr. Iverning. He jumped and whirled, hand to his heart. His gaze met hers and slipped to the side.

And she knew. There had been little doubt before, but it was cemented in that moment when Iverning could not meet her gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Iverning…”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Let’s not play games,” she said, softly sitting in the pretty little arm chair that she’d sent to the shop. She’d loved it when she purchased it and had him recover it time and again rather than replacing it.

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