“Nory, we have walls made of books. Actual walls made of actual piled-up books. If we sold fifty books a day for a year, we would still have enough left to give the Bodleian Library a run for its money. When Matilda can walk, I’ll have to attach a GPS signaling device to her nappy before letting her loose in the shop.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

“Okay, tell me the rest.”

“Can you handle it?”

“Just give it to me all in one go and don’t stop even when you hear my screams of pain.”

Andrew listed seven more books sold today—two of them online. She didn’t really hate parting with her books, although she felt a little sad when a favorite left the building. In reality, she got a massive kick out of a book finding its new keeper, paying forward the book love.

Those were some good sales for a Monday. Andrew really was a remarkable bookseller, and she told him so.

“If you keep complimenting me, I shall have to ask for a raise,” said Andrew.

“On second thought, you’re nothing but a charlatan.”

“A charlatan! How very lovable rogue; I rather like it.”

Nory laughed. “What time is Seb’s mum arriving?”

“She guestimates about nine p.m. She has asked that we don’t make a fuss and just throw a few nibbles together, which is code for prepare something exquisite. Spare a thought for me when you’re scoffing down your ten-course dinner at the castle tonight.”

“I will. Text me the gossip.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I will!”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Nory was about to bury herself in the library once more when she heard her name being called. She followed the voice down the corridor to where the butler was systematically poking his head in at each door and asking if anyone had seen Miss Elinor.

“I’m here,” she said timidly, so as not to frighten him.

“Ah, Miss Elinor, there you are. Excellent. There is someone for you at the back door.”

Intrigued, Nory followed the butler down past the kitchens and through the boot room. Isaac was standing in the open doorway with his back to her, his face turned to the already dark sky. Nory felt a jolt of pleasure at seeing him.

“Hello,” she said.

Isaac turned and smiled at her.

“Should I ask the marquis to turn the heating up?” he asked.

Looking down, she realized she was still draped in the huge sherpa blanket. “I was reading in the library. It felt like a curl-up-with-a-blanket kind of day.”

“Quite right too,” said Isaac. “Have you seen the sky this evening?”