“True,” Callum muttered. “The only sort of woman who’d wed him is one with scandal attached to her name. And the last of those was snatched up by Baron Hastings last week.”
A moment of silence followed as they proceeded to mourn the poor baron losing his freedom. Sadly, Hastings had been in a similar situation to Anthony and his friends and had chosen to walk the proverbial plank in order to prevent the loss of his properties.
“Unfortunately, I will have to sacrifice myself,” Brody said. “And the two of you may have to do the same if you want what’s best for those who depend upon you.”
Anthony knew this to be true, but the thought still made him shudder. He shook his head. One way or another, he’d have to get out of the mess he’d gotten himself into. “Absolutely not. We’ll find another way.”
“I don’t see how w—”
“Let’s allow ourselves three days to think it over,” he suggested, cutting Callum off. “During that time, we’ll all do our best to come up with an alternate plan.”
“And if we don’t?” Brody asked, his voice weary and much too resigned for Anthony’s liking.
“Then we may have to consider the unspeakable.” Anthony looked at each of his friends. “But I forbid you from doing so until we’re certain there’s no other choice. Agreed?”
When Callum and Brody both nodded, Anthony smiled with every intention of giving them hope. Even though his own had already jumped off the edge of a cliff. Optimism was the only way forward. The alternative would only lead to additional glasses of brandy and unacceptable results.
The trouble was, he decided in the following days, that every idea he came up with required funding. Even trade, which he was not too proud to engage in if it would help him and his friends maintain their independence. But attempting to start a business without collateral would be a giant waste of everyone’s time.
So far, cutting costs and selling off superfluous items seemed the most promising way forward. He’d made an inventory last night of all the belongings he could do without and had been pleasantly surprised by the estimated income they’d fetch. If he could find buyers quickly, the sum might be enough to sustain him and his sisters for the next year, provided they all curbed their spending.
But since this was only a temporary fix, he’d still require a more sustainable source of income.
He sighed as he strolled along Oxford Street, looking for inspiration in all the shop windows. His friends were due to arrive at his townhouse in less than four hours. All he could do was hope one of them had been more imaginative than he.
A futile endeavor, he reflected, his attention drawn by a handsome top hat in a milliner’s window. He dismissed the item and kept on walking, past a cobbler, a winery, and a paper supply shop where he briefly considered ordering a new letterhead.
No. He had to be frugal from now on. Whatever money he had left should be spent only on necessities.
He knit his brow at this thought while some carriages clattered by. An acquaintance of his tipped his hat as they passed each other on the pavement.
A flash of red hair up ahead made him stop so abruptly the man behind him muttered a curse before saying, “The least you could do is step aside.”
“I apologize,” Anthony told him, his gaze fixed upon the approaching woman, just to be sure he wasn’t mistaken.
The man shoved his way past and then the crowd parted, allowing Anthony a glimpse of the woman’s face. It belonged to none other than the one woman he wished to avoid – a woman whose wealth was only surpassed by her ambition – the very same woman whose father he’d been foolish enough to discuss potential wedding plans with. Miss Starling.
With a shudder, he darted down a narrow side street and broke into a run, not stopping until he’d rounded a few more corners. Lord help him, that was close! Panting lightly, he leaned against a wall and closed his eyes briefly. The clamor from Oxford Street had dimmed, giving way to fainter sounds. A cat meowed and a child’s bright laughter drifted toward him. The slow clip-clop of a draught horse echoed from somewhere nearby.
Anthony pushed himself away from the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. If only he’d listened to his secretary. Mr. Oats had warned him. Repeatedly. But Anthony had dismissed the man’s concerns. He’d been a duke after all, with the world at his feet.
“Young and foolish, that’s what you’ve been,” he told himself with a snort of disgust. “An embarrassment to Papa’s legacy.”
Disheartened, he kept walking, making his way toward his home at Number 2 Berkley Square. A sign up ahead announced the presence of a bakery. After that, came a book shop. Between the Pages was its name.
Anthony stopped to look through the window where an assortment of books, some bound in leather and fabric, had been placed on display. The rest of the books, which remained unbound, were tilted against larger stacks to show off their titles. Frankenstein was among them – a novel Anthony had been avoiding because the subject didn’t appeal.
Next to it, of far greater interest, was Rob Roy. He’d not yet purchased a copy, and though he knew he ought to be saving his money, he couldn’t resist the distraction the book promised.
An older man with thick brown hair streaked with gray exited the shop. He carried a parcel under one arm and was turning back toward the still-open shop door when he spotted Anthony. Abandoning the door, he allowed it to swing shut before touching the brim of his hat. Interest lit up his eyes and he suddenly smiled.
“Good afternoon to you, sir,” he said with good cheer. “Something catch your interest?”
Anthony chuckled. “Possibly. I was considering Rob Roy.”
“An excellent choice. I dare say you won’t find it cheaper anywhere else.” He patted the parcel under his arm. “This shop delivers quality goods, excellent service, and very competitive pricing. If you’ve the time to spare, I recommend taking a closer look.”
“Thank you. I just might do so.”
The man responded with a satisfied nod and took his leave. Anthony watched him go before returning his gaze to the shop window. He laughed softly beneath his breath. What a curious encounter. If what the man had said was true though, the shop did warrant a closer look.
With his mind made up, Anthony pulled open the door and entered. A small bell above the entrance made a delightful tinkling sound to announce his presence. An understated smell of dust and paper greeted him, inviting him into a cozy interior. Several bookcases stood to Anthony’s left and right filling the space, while a small wooden counter stood directly across from the entrance.
There were no other customers present, but the sharp sound of a gasp informed him he wasn’t alone.
“Good afternoon?” He stepped forward and caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. “I’d like to purchase a book.”
A rustling sound followed but still no one appeared. Baffled, he rounded the first bookcase and tilted his head when he spotted what looked like a woman’s body partially concealed behind the books on the next set of shelves. The top of her head was clearly visible, however. As were her shoes.
Anthony smiled and removed a book, creating a gap that allowed him to stare back into the clearest pair of blue eyes he’d ever beheld.