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Max raised his eyebrows at hearing her Italian accent.

“It’s so nice to see you, Sophia. How was your trip to see your aunt in Cornwall?”

“Quite nice, thank you. Cold, but the scenery was magnificent.” The woman gave a warm smile to Olivia. “How have you been? I see you have ended your mourning period.”

Olivia ran her hands down over her blue skirts. “Yes, it was time. I received a letter from Henry which encouraged me to ‘not waste away in widow’s weeds.’”

“You received a letter from Henry?” Lady Weston asked. “How is that possible?”

Max stepped forward. “That’s my fault. There were letters for Livvy and Mr. Galey in an envelope marked for the next Lord Rivenhall. The solicitor just gave them to me when I met with him a fortnight ago.”

Olivia swiveled to face Max. She held out a hand. “Come, let me introduce you to my friends.”

He came to stand next to her.

“These are the other members of my book club. Mrs. Eleanor Grisham.” She gestured to the smaller woman. “She is the wife of Lady Weston’s brother. And Mrs. Sophia Kingsley.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Grisham.” He turned to Mrs. Kingsley. “Piacere di conoscerti.” He greeted her in Italian.

Mrs. Kingsley’s eyebrows raised high. Then she tipped her head. “Altrettanto.How did you guess my native tongue?”

“Your accent gave you away.” Max grinned. “I have just spent the last two years in Venice.”

The friendly warmth in her eyes disappeared. She nodded stiffly. “And who are you?”

“This is Maxwell Drake, Henry’s cousin. He is the new Lord Rivenhall,” Olivia said.

Some of the tension in Mrs. Kingsley’s shoulders relaxed. But her eyes still narrowed as she looked at him. Hmmm, he thought his friendly greeting in Italian would receive a warmer response. Mrs. Grisham also assessed him with a less than friendly gaze. “So, you are the missing heir waltzing into town a year after the funeral.”

“Ellie,” Olivia growled. “Behave, please. Today, Lord Rivenhall is lending a helping hand in organizing the store.”

Max kept his smile in place. “Yes, Mrs. Grisham, I have just arrived in Marbury. It was a long journey from Italy. I did not receive news of Henry’s death until September. I travel quite a bit in my line of work.”

“And what is that, Lord Rivenhall?” Mrs. Grisham asked.

“Art and antiquities. I procure pieces for the wealthy elite.”

Olivia arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t working at the museum anymore?”

He shook his head. “Not for years. Art dealing is far more lucrative than curating collections at the Louvre.”

“What are your plans now that you’ve inherited the title?” Lord Weston asked.

Max looked directly at Olivia and answered honestly. “I hope this will be a fresh start for me.”

Olivia’s eyes widened, but then she turned from his gaze. “Well, let’s keep going. This place won’t organize itself. We’ve been pulling books from that wall to start. Charlotte is assessing what categories we will need.”

Debate about how to organize the shelves broke out around him. Max was glad not to be the center of attention any longer. He walked back to the shelf he had been emptying, his thoughts on Olivia. Having her in his arms again had felt absolutely right. He’d almost lost his wits and kissed her tempting full lips. That would have earned him a smart slap across the face, no doubt.Don’t be a fool, he argued with himself as he plucked books from the shelf. You may still want her, but she barely tolerates you.

He turned to take his books over to the table. Olivia stood on her tiptoes to reach for the last book on a high shelf. Crossing quickly to help her, he easily grabbed the volume of poetry. She tipped her head to glance up at him in surprise, and he had the urge to kiss the tip of her pert nose. But he settled for a smile and handed her the book.

“Thank you,” she said.

When they both stepped back, he turned right, and Olivia swiveled left. Her armful of books knocked into his stack, sending the books on top crashing to the floor. Several pieces of parchment skittered across the floor.

“Oops, sorry.” He crouched to retrieve the books. Gathering the books and papers, he flipped one piece of paper over and realized it was a letter. He gathered two more before rising. “Look what fell from the pages of this book.”

“Oh my, another letter,” Olivia exclaimed.


Tags: Karla Kratovil Historical