Page 17 of Once Upon a Winter's Tale
“Mr. Franklin Stackall, proprietor, at your service.” As he bent forward, his pencil fell from the breast pocket of his apron. He scrambled for it, grabbing it, swinging it up, and banging it into the bottom of the counter.
“Mr. Stackall, would you mind if we browsed?” Albert said.
“Are you looking for a specific book, Your Grace?” Mr. Stackall asked.
“I have been looking for a specific book for my sister, Lauren. Jane Austen wrote it.”
“I may have one,” he said, picking up a stack of books and looking beneath them. “Elijah, where are the books written by Ms. Jane Austen?”
“They are on the back shelf in the novel section,” the young man returned. “Would you like me to retrieve them?”
“That’s all right. We can find them,” Albert said, reaching down and touching Brianna’s hand.
At his touch, a tingling sensation pulsed through Brianna. She closed her eyes and squeezed tightly, willing the feeling to memory.
As they moved toward the back of the shop, she spotted a small sign above that saidNovels. “I think this is where it would be. Do you know which novel you want?”
“Is there one that sounds like a woman’s name?” he asked. “She mentioned it to me once, but I think I’d recognize it if I see it.”
“Emmais the last book I recall, Your Grace,” she said.
“You’ve read Jane Austen’s books?” In husky tones, he whispered, “I wish you would call me Albert.”
“Albert,” she breathed. “I’ve read most of her books. I enjoy her books.” Brianna trembled with anticipation as his fingers traced their way down her arm to her hand, drawing small circles in her palm. “Call me Brianna,” she whispered.
“Your name… it suits you, Brianna,” he murmured for her alone.
“Mama said it was my—” she started.
“Shh.” Albert placed his finger over her lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day… since I first saw you, if I were honest.” He leaned in and covered her lips with his, urging her mouth open with his tongue. He entangled his tongue with hers. He pulled back a few moments later, leaving Brianna breathless. “I have a special request.”
“What is that?” she replied, reveling in his closeness and the essence of his scent at the same time.
“Dinner with me tonight. Please bring your mother.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she nodded. “I feel sure if you ask Mama, she will be glad to come,” she returned, hoping her mother would indeed accept. Mama seemed to have adjusted to whatever had upset her earlier.
“I will ask her. But right now, I cannot resist another kiss.” He angled his head, and his lips gently covered hers.
His clean scent of citrus and sandalwood swathed her senses, urging her to hug him tighter. Her body quivered with excitement. She reached up and tugged him closer, twirling her fingers in the back of his hair. Brianna couldn’t help herself—she tugged him closer and kissed him.
*
Snowfall had pickedup when they arrived back at the dowager house. Brianna looked around, loving the scenery. Snow covered the ground and balanced delicately on the branches of the evergreens.
As the driver slowed the horse to a stop, West jumped down and held open the door to the sleigh, securing a step.
Before Brianna could stand, Jane leaned forward and touched her arm. “Your Grace, if it pleases you, I can take these purchases in first. It will allow you time to check for any smaller purchases,” she said.
“Certainly, Jane. That would be thoughtful.”
The maid stood, and West assisted her with the packages into the house.
“Thank you for a lovely trip to the village,” Brianna said, making a mental note to thank Jane for the few minutes of privacy she had unexpectedly afforded them.
“I had a wonderful time as well. You are an excellent tour guide.” Albert retrieved a small, brown-wrapped package from a pocket inside his heavy coat. “I picked up a copy ofEmmafor you and one for my sister.” He held her hand by his side, intertwining his fingers through hers.
“Thank you, Albert,” she said, feeling warmth creeping up her neck. “I have never received a gift from a man, Your Grace.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
