Now Lady Tabitha and several female companions, obviously members of the ton, walked warily into the shop, as if they weren’t used to patronizing bookstores, much less bookstores on an inferior street.

Stephen backed up to a corner and pretended to examine some books, the better to watch the proceedings undetected. He had a feeling Lady Tabitha was a bored society girl with nothing better to do than stir up trouble.

“Welcome once more, Lady Tabitha, and welcome to your friends.” Miss Jones looked up from her counter and smiled graciously at the new arrivals. “Do let me know if I can be of assistance.”

Stephen thought Miss Jones was the perfect shopkeeper: friendly, helpful, but not overbearing.

“We’re not here to shop.” Lady Tabitha’s voice held no warmth.

No surprise there, thought Stephen.

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” Miss Jones replied, recovering quickly from the new arrival’s bluntly stated words. “I enjoy company.”

Lady Tabitha’s friends hovered around her, delicate and beautiful, every one of them dressed like spring flowers. None of them smiled at Miss Jones. Indeed, they showed no appreciation whatsoever for her warm welcome.

“I’m fascinated by the story of Alicia Fotherington,” Lady Tabitha said. “I’d like to see her journal.”

Stephen noted it wasn’t a request. More of a demand.

Miss Jones rose from her seat, only the tiniest wrinkle on her brow. “I’ll be happy to show it to you,” she said, carefully polite. Then she gave a short laugh. “Truth be told, my assistant had it last. I’m not sure where he put it.”

She hesitated, and Stephen could tell she was wondering whether she dared go upstairs and look for it.

“I’ll keep an eye on the shop for you,” he said.

All the women turned toward him.

“Captain Arrow!” Tabitha exclaimed, and her face took on a certain animation it had lacked when she’d been unaware he was in the room.

“Lady Tabitha,” he said with a bow. “And ladies.”

“Thank you for your offer,” Miss Jones said quietly to him, and then to the ladies, “I’ll be right back.”

The ladies apparently didn’t notice she’d spoken as no one responded. They were focused on him alone. Stephen noticed that they were much warmer in their greetings to him than they’d been to Miss Jones. He already knew Lady Tabitha was self-possessed, perhaps a little vain—and interested in him—but he hadn’t known her conceit extended to making other women who couldn’t possibly compete with her advantages feel invisible.

Her friends were no better.

Stephen had always admired people in high positions who made their underlings feel important and had striven to emulate them. In the navy, it was how he got his men to give him their best efforts. He knew all his sailors by name, and he made sure to ask after their families. He brought them to his cabin for a brandy if one of them had a death in the family and did the same for a sailor who’d lost his best mate in a battle.

Once he’d brought a young midshipman into his cabin for a drink when he’d received a letter stating his family had lost his favorite childhood dog to old age. And on several occasions, he’d counseled men who’d received letters from sweethearts or wives who no longer loved them.

He was already regretting telling Miss Jones that Lady Tabitha was sporting.

Sporting, my eye, he thought.

He watched Miss Jones leave through the back door to the office and then upstairs and wished he could go with her.

“So, Captain.” Lady Tabitha interrupted his thoughts. “Are you ready for the ball tonight?”

“Of course,” he said, making no attempt to charm her or her friends. “A man has very little to do to get ready. We don’t have to go out and purchase new ribbons and gowns for every event.”

The women tittered.

Let them. He was impatient for them to go. He’d one last edge to smooth on his ledge, and then it would be done.

“Did you ever meet Admiral Lord Nelson?” asked one young lady.

“Yes, miss,” he said gruffly.

“How many times?”

“Several.” To hell with waiting for them to go—he’d smooth that last edge now.

Undeterred, another young lady posed a question. “Did you really capture a pirate?”

“I did,” he said, focusing his attention on the ledge.

The women seemed to sigh as one, except for Lady Tabitha. She merely curved her mouth up a bit. She was clearly the leader of her little clutch of friends.

“Captain, you appear tired with our silly questions,” she said. “Does going about in society bore you?”

“Largely.” He looked at her with not an ounce of interest. “Although I do have friends I like to see at various events.”

“Do you waltz?” asked one young woman.

“Reluctantly,” he said. He wouldn’t tell them it was because he felt waltzing should be reserved for people in love. It was the one romantic thought he’d ever had, and he preferred to keep it to himself.

Lady Tabitha ran her gaze over his shoulders and chest, quite as if he were a roast on the spit. “It appears you prefer to do manly things. You’ve built something for Miss Jones.”

“A ledge for her window.” He reluctantly stood. “So she can display her books. She hopes it will improve sales.”

Lady Tabitha’s smooth forehead wrinkled. “She couldn’t hire a carpenter?”

Stephen shrugged. “I volunteered. We’re neighbors, after all.”

While he looked into Lady Tabitha’s gorgeous but hard face, he was tempted to come up with an excuse to get out of their engagement that evening. But he’d made his promise. He’d do his best to get the Prince Regent to come to the street fair.

“It appears Miss Jones has few customers,” said one of Lady Tabitha’s friends.

“No wonder,” chimed in another. “A lady running a bookshop? It isn’t done.”

“Especially an unfashionable lady,” said Lady Tabitha smoothly. “Yet her assistant is no better. His shoes are an abomination. And so are his waistcoats.”

Stephen frowned. “They’re both exceptionally able people. If anyone can make a bookshop successful, it will be Miss Jones and her assistant. In fact, I think Miss Jones would be helpful tonight at the ball.”

“Do you?” Lady Tabitha hardly batted an eye.

“Yes,” he said. “She could talk to Prinny about books and the history of the street. He’s quite bright beneath his debauched exterior, and her excitement about the street fair will no doubt pique his interest.”

“But is she of good family?” asked one of Lady Tabitha’s friends.

Stephen couldn’t resist a little lecture. “Ladies, in battle, a man’s character is measured not by the depth of his pockets or his bloodlines but by the reach of his heart.”

“Yes, but does that mean she’s of good family?” asked the same young lady.

Stephen stared at her, not sure what to say that wouldn’t be insulting.

But he was saved from answering when Miss Jones walked back into the shop empty-handed. Her cheeks were pink.

Had she overheard any of their conversation?

He hoped not.

Seconds later, he was relieved to see she was embarrassed about something else.

“I’m so sorry,” she told Lady Tabitha, “but I can’t find the journal. I assure you, I realize its value as a piece of history concerning Dreare Street. Otis must have stashed it away in a safe place. When he comes back, I’ll ask him where it is.”

“Will you come to tea when you do find it?” asked Lady Tabitha.

Stephen was taken aback. The lady’s tone was suddenly friendly.

He believed Miss Jones was surprised, too, as she stammered her acceptance.

“Very good, then.” Lady Tabitha opened a fan and began to waft it slowly across her face. “And Miss Jones, I’d love for you to join us tonight. At the ball.”

“Really?” Miss Jones’s eyes lit up with pleasure.

“Yes. Meet us at my aunt’s at half eight.” Lady Tabitha cast a very brief glance at Stephen.

He forced himself to throw her the ghost of a grateful grin. He wasn’t surprised when her mouth curved up again in that self-satisfied way she had about her, like a cat with cream.

Miss Jones seemed to hesitate. “I’m grateful, but I don’t think I should.”

“Why not?” He was suddenly anxious for her to go. He’d be able to tolerate the evening with Lady Tabitha and Lady Duchamp much better with her there.

She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I’m rather a homebody. I prefer not to go out.”

“You’ll be among friends,” Stephen reminded her.

“Captain, I appreciate your intentions, but I must stand firm.”

He restrained a sigh. She was the most stubborn woman of his acquaintance. “You’re the one who started this whole idea of the street fair,” he reminded her. “And you were distinctly regretful you weren’t part of the activities that took place last night at my house.”

He knew he had her there. He saw her pause.

“Miss Jones,” Lady Tabitha said in a lively manner, “no more discussion. I expect to see you at my aunt’s.”

Stephen was glad Lady Tabitha had shown a rapid improvement in her attitude toward Miss Jones. But he wasn’t a fool. She must have sensed his support of the bookseller and was trying to impress him.

He didn’t care what her motivation was as long as Miss Jones could go to the ball.

“Very well,” said Miss Jones with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

Lady Tabitha shrugged. “Shall we go, ladies?”

They all fell in line and trailed out after her.

But then Lady Tabitha turned around. “Miss Jones,” she said, “I hope you won’t feel awkward about my mentioning this. But the truth is, I don’t want you to feel out of place tonight. Shall I send over an appropriate gown? It would be no trouble.”