Read Online A Taste for Scandal by Erin Knightley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erin Knightley
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goods would always welcome her customers.
Standing rigidly in the center of the room, Mrs. Brown could not have been in greater contrast to the cheery shop. Arms crossed before her enormous, brown bombazine-encased bosom, she looked like nothing so much as a disapproving school marm.
Doing her best to appear serene and pleasant, Jane slid behind the counter and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Brown. How are you this fine day?”
“This is not a social visit, Miss Bunting.”
Of course it wasn’t; it was never a social visit with her. “Oh? Can I interest you in our selection of scones, then?” Jane knew she wasn’t here on business, either, but it was worth a try.
Her neighbor scowled, the skin of her forehead creasing like a crumpled piece of paper. “Don’t get fresh with me, young lady. I have it on the best authority that there were goings on here yesterday. What have you to say for yourself?”
Why the woman fancied herself the moral authority of the street was beyond Jane. She wanted to snap that it was none of Mrs. Brown’s business what went on in the shop, but it would only make matters worse. As much as Jane couldn’t stand the woman, Mrs. Brown could conceivably cause a lot of trouble, particularly since her sister’s husband, Mr. Byrd, owned the building and leased the property to Jane. He had readily extended the lease agreement with Jane’s mother after Papa had died—she was the respectable widow of a successful baker, after all—but had balked at the prospect of doing business with Jane. It was thanks only to the existing two years on the lease—not to mention the three months’ rent she put down as security—that he allowed the contract to stand. Still, Jane knew it wouldn’t take much for him to sever the agreement—and Mrs. Brown knew it.
Adopting her most placating tone, Jane said, “It was but a small misunderstanding, I assure you. I can’t imagine how anyone even noticed.” Unless they were spying through the windows of the tea shop, which she’d bet her mother’s remaining china had most certainly been the case.
“We don’t need you inviting riffraff into your shop, Miss Bunting. It doesn’t speak well for all of the good, upstanding men who run respectable businesses on this street.”
For heaven’s sake, she made it sound as though Jane ran a brothel rather than a bakery! Mrs. Brown had been a mildly unpleasant neighbor when Mama ran the business. The moment it was up to Jane, the woman had been all that was disapproving and judgmental. For some reason, she despised the fact that Jane, unmarried and unchaperoned, had the gall to think she could run a business. As if Jane had so many other choices.
“Yes, madam, I understand the importance of upholding the caliber of this street, as well as my own beloved shop.”
Mrs. Brown narrowed her eyes. “Do you, Miss Bunting? I have seen no evidence to support such a claim. Why, just look at the state of that cabinet. My sister’s husband would be very dismayed to discover the state of disrepair in his dwelling.”
Jane bit her tongue hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. Showing her upset would only give the woman power. “Unfortunately, the cabinet was damaged yesterday. I haven’t even had time to speak with anyone about having it fixed.”
“Well, I trust you’ll have more than enough time to have the repairs completed before my sister and her family return from their stay in Scotland next month.”
Clearly she didn’t trust—the statement was a threat if Jane had ever heard one. “Of course.” Never mind that she had no idea how she would pay for such repairs. She ignored the apprehension creeping up her spine. She’d figure out something—she always did. Come next month, she would have everything back to rights. “I assure you, maintaining my reputation as a conscientious proprietress and tenant is of the utmost importance to me.”
With a cunning gleam lighting her gaze, Mrs. Brown leaned
Standing rigidly in the center of the room, Mrs. Brown could not have been in greater contrast to the cheery shop. Arms crossed before her enormous, brown bombazine-encased bosom, she looked like nothing so much as a disapproving school marm.
Doing her best to appear serene and pleasant, Jane slid behind the counter and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Brown. How are you this fine day?”
“This is not a social visit, Miss Bunting.”
Of course it wasn’t; it was never a social visit with her. “Oh? Can I interest you in our selection of scones, then?” Jane knew she wasn’t here on business, either, but it was worth a try.
Her neighbor scowled, the skin of her forehead creasing like a crumpled piece of paper. “Don’t get fresh with me, young lady. I have it on the best authority that there were goings on here yesterday. What have you to say for yourself?”
Why the woman fancied herself the moral authority of the street was beyond Jane. She wanted to snap that it was none of Mrs. Brown’s business what went on in the shop, but it would only make matters worse. As much as Jane couldn’t stand the woman, Mrs. Brown could conceivably cause a lot of trouble, particularly since her sister’s husband, Mr. Byrd, owned the building and leased the property to Jane. He had readily extended the lease agreement with Jane’s mother after Papa had died—she was the respectable widow of a successful baker, after all—but had balked at the prospect of doing business with Jane. It was thanks only to the existing two years on the lease—not to mention the three months’ rent she put down as security—that he allowed the contract to stand. Still, Jane knew it wouldn’t take much for him to sever the agreement—and Mrs. Brown knew it.
Adopting her most placating tone, Jane said, “It was but a small misunderstanding, I assure you. I can’t imagine how anyone even noticed.” Unless they were spying through the windows of the tea shop, which she’d bet her mother’s remaining china had most certainly been the case.
“We don’t need you inviting riffraff into your shop, Miss Bunting. It doesn’t speak well for all of the good, upstanding men who run respectable businesses on this street.”
For heaven’s sake, she made it sound as though Jane ran a brothel rather than a bakery! Mrs. Brown had been a mildly unpleasant neighbor when Mama ran the business. The moment it was up to Jane, the woman had been all that was disapproving and judgmental. For some reason, she despised the fact that Jane, unmarried and unchaperoned, had the gall to think she could run a business. As if Jane had so many other choices.
“Yes, madam, I understand the importance of upholding the caliber of this street, as well as my own beloved shop.”
Mrs. Brown narrowed her eyes. “Do you, Miss Bunting? I have seen no evidence to support such a claim. Why, just look at the state of that cabinet. My sister’s husband would be very dismayed to discover the state of disrepair in his dwelling.”
Jane bit her tongue hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. Showing her upset would only give the woman power. “Unfortunately, the cabinet was damaged yesterday. I haven’t even had time to speak with anyone about having it fixed.”
“Well, I trust you’ll have more than enough time to have the repairs completed before my sister and her family return from their stay in Scotland next month.”
Clearly she didn’t trust—the statement was a threat if Jane had ever heard one. “Of course.” Never mind that she had no idea how she would pay for such repairs. She ignored the apprehension creeping up her spine. She’d figure out something—she always did. Come next month, she would have everything back to rights. “I assure you, maintaining my reputation as a conscientious proprietress and tenant is of the utmost importance to me.”
With a cunning gleam lighting her gaze, Mrs. Brown leaned
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