The Librarian's Spell by Patricia Rice

Author:Patricia Rice [Rice, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Lydia had been expecting Max when his mother flew through her office doorway instead, a vision of bouncing gray curls and bobbing earrings. Lydia touched the brooch she’d fixed to her new scarf in an attempt to look vaguely aristocratic—an armor she needed after last night.

Max’s kiss. . . She’d spent the night dreaming of his male scent, hard body, questing lips, wandering hands. . . and where they might have led. She’d woke up practically feverish with need.

But he’d shoved her away as if she were the enemy. She was quite certain he had been the one to initiate that kiss. . . But she’d obviously been too bold, like the women he despised. She’d been in way over her head and had done things. . . Her cheeks heated as she remembered caressing muscled buttocks. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t.

She had to treat him as nothing more than another guest or he’d flee into the night.

Lady Agnes blew all those concerns straight out of Lydia’s mind.

“I would like to see my grandson, please. I understand why you had to keep Max’s confidence, but now that he has revealed all, I won’t wait another minute.” She dropped a bundle of papers on the desk. “And here are the guest lists for both our families. Cross out those you don’t wish invited. I suppose you must consult with Max over his list since he refuses to read it. And yes, I now know he can’t read. Why on earth the boy—”

“He’s not a boy, my lady. He’s a grown man, a successful, wealthy one. The fact that he has done that with his disability shows what an amazing son you have.” Lydia stood and pulled the bell. “I’ll have one of the servants bring Bakari down when his lessons are done.”

“Bakari!” Lady Agnes settled in a chair and held a hand to her plump bosom. “Oh, I had not thought. . . Max’s children are foreign! Oh, my, this is rather exciting, isn’t it?”

Lydia bit back a grin. One never quite knew what road the lady’s mind would take. “Certainly interesting, one must admit. Is the other one Italian? Chinese? African? Do we dare ask? But for now, I must finish these letters so they can go into the village. Do you have enough to entertain yourself for a while?”

“Oh, yes, of course—the Malcolm Librarian is as busy as a duke. I shouldn’t intrude—”

“I’ve not proved myself to be the librarian,” Lydia said very, very gently.

“Well, of course you are! The testers will prove that when they arrive. I’ll be in the guest parlor, writing all this news in my journal, if you’ll have the boy sent to me. Thank you so much!” She rose, patted Lydia’s cheek, and pattered out again.

Lydia gulped. The testers? Mr. C’s journals had mentioned being tested. . .

She would fail. She’d never be more than an assistant. But until then, someone had to run the castle. She would have to keep up the pretense to hold off the trustees and Crawley until the real librarian was found.

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