“And you, my lord, are you reading anything of interest?”

“A Tale of Two Cities.”

“Are you a fan of Dickens, then?”

“I am.”

“A young lad brought me a rather dilapidated copy of Little Dorrit. I’m working to restore it.”

“Is that a hobby of yours?”

“In a way. It goes well with my bookshop as I’ll sell the book once it’s been repaired. Would you gentlemen like a tour of my establishment?”

“You’re not going to work in it when you’re married, are you?” Mr. Whitley asked.

“Well, no.”

“Then it would be a waste of time, would it not?”

It would allow him to get a better sense of her. As it was, she was beginning to feel he was a waste of time. “Well, this has been enlightening, gentlemen, but I must return to my endeavors.”

Besides it was rude for a gentleman to linger more than fifteen minutes, and surely that much time had passed. She wasn’t going to double it just because there were two of them. She rose to her feet, and they both stood. “It’s been a pleasure, my lord, Mr. Whitley.”

Beresford stepped forward, took her hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I do hope you’ll honor me with a dance at the next ball you attend.”

“It will be my pleasure. I look forward to it.”

Mr. Whitley looked as though he had a strong urge to shove the lord aside. As soon as Beresford was out of the way, Whitley also took her hand. “Until our paths cross again.”

He planted a kiss on the back of her hand. Because she was not wearing gloves, she could feel the spittle leaking between his lips. As soon as he released her, she placed her hand behind her back and discreetly wiped it on her skirt, hoping she never had occasion to feel his lips pressed to hers. Still she returned his smile.

“My lord, sir, I wish you both a good day,” Aslyn said, having approached. She led them into the hallway and called for a footman to show them out.

Once she returned, she lifted her eyebrows at Fancy. “Well?”

Fancy dropped into the chair. “Beresford seems rather fine, but Whitley. How can a man have no love for books? We would never suit.”

Aslyn sat on the settee. “I have no advice when it comes to courtship as my betrothal to Kipwick and my eventual marriage to your brother were quite unconventional when it came to the wooing. All I can offer is to follow your heart.”

Unfortunately, her heart was leading her toward a man who would not be all her mother wanted.

“Unca Matthew!”

“Poppet!” Bending down, Matthew swept his four-year-old niece up with one arm, laughing as she planted a rather wet and sloppy kiss on his cheek.