[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Satisfied Barrington would complete the task to his satisfaction, Vincent stood from the chair, gave his coat a tug to straighten it, and bid his solicitor good day.* * *Oliver crossed out the figure at the bottom of the account ledger.After studying the column of numbers for a moment, he identified the cause of his error.He’d forgotten to carry the one.He had just squeezed the correct sum in the small space beside the incorrect one when a knock sounded on the back door.Setting down his pencil, he rolled his shoulders, the joints popping and cracking.He was sorely in need of an interruption, but he’d nearly finished with the pile of the prior day’s receipts.If he did not record them all that evening, then they would be waiting for him tomorrow, along with a new pile from today.Not something to look forward to.So the sooner he could get through them, the sooner he could meet Vincent for supper.He pushed from his desk and made his way across the small back office of his bookshop.A chill gust of evening air blew in as he opened the door, revealing the blacksmith’s son.“Good evening, Lord Oliver,” Joseph Young said, with a deferential tug on the brim of his hat.Oliver had briefly met the strapping young man when he had gone to the Rotherham inn’s livery to arrange for the books he’d purchased from Mrs.Middleton to be delivered to London.“I’ve got your crates.Where would you like them?”“Over there will do.” Oliver motioned in the direction of a barren spot along the wall.“Any trouble on the journey?”“No.None at all.Took a bit of time, though.Couldn’t push the horses too fast, considering the weight and all.But the weather was decent, so the roads were in as good of shape as can be expected this time of year.” He shifted his weight and shoved his gloved hands in the pockets of his overcoat.“I’ll see to those crates then.” With another tip of his head, he turned on his heel.Oliver left the door open and settled at the desk once again.Picking up his pencil, he went back to work as Joseph Young trudged back into the office, setting a crate down with a thump.In the four days Oliver and Vincent had been back in London, he had only seen Vincent on one occasion.His lover had shown up at his apartments late in the evening.Had not stayed long.Barely made it onto his bed.Well, Oliver made it onto the bed; Vincent had not.But no bother.He’d take a quick tumble from Vincent over none at all.And before Vincent departed, he had extended an invitation to supper at his town house for that evening.After a long absence from Town, it wasn’t uncommon for business affairs to occupy Vincent.But four days had passed, and Oliver was quite looking forward to spending some time with him tonight.Time that included conversations and good food, and not merely a few moments—albeit scorching hot and very pleasurable moments—in the bedchamber.Though if the evening ended with both of them on Oliver’s old wooden bed, then all the better.A little smile of anticipation flittered on his lips as he recorded the receipts into the ledger.The shuffle of footsteps behind him was broken by a thump as Joseph deposited each crate on the floor.A draft of cold air slid around him, slowly seeping through his coat and negating the effects of the meager fire in the small hearth.With a scratch of his pencil, Oliver made another correction and then flipped to the last receipt.He had just recorded the sum when another thump caused his pencil to pause.He glanced over his shoulder to the crates along the wall.Five? Hadn’t Joseph only packed four? Had he selected more books than he realized?With a shuffle of footsteps, Joseph reappeared.He had discarded his overcoat at some point, and his muscles bulged beneath the sleeves of his white shirt as he carried another crate into the office.Six?No, that wasn’t correct.He pushed from the desk.Cold air snapped against his cheeks as he went outside.Twilight was full upon the city, casting the narrow alley in dark, heavy shadows.The golden light streaming from the open door illuminated the team of two large draft horses hitched to a wagon.Crossing his arms over his chest to ward off the cold, Oliver went around to the back of the wagon and counted the crates as Joseph grabbed another to haul into the office.Twelve crates [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]