Partridge and the Peartree by Patricia Kiyono

Chapter One
     
    Phillip Peartree, Tenth Duke of Bartlett, squinted as
he scanned the titles on the dusty shelves of his favorite
bookstore. He needed something new to read, something to help him
relax and forget the depression weighing him down ever since he'd
inherited his burdensome title. Phillip had been aware of his
father's extravagant tastes, but he'd had no idea about the extent
of debt they'd caused. Debt that had become his worry and
responsibility. In the two years since his father's passing, the
young duke had managed to satisfy most of his creditors by selling
off part of his estate and working hard to improve what was left.
Needing a respite, he'd decided to spend the holiday season in
London, near his sister and nieces.
    London offered plenty of activities for an eligible
bachelor, but the social whirlwind was something Phillip avoided.
Not that he wanted to be alone. He'd always dreamed of having a
contented, if not happy, life with a suitable mate. Ideally, he'd
prefer to wed someone with charm, looks, and intelligence. His hand
went to his face, tracing the scars left from the hunting accident
that had changed his life several years before. He sighed. How
could he hope to win the hand of such a woman once she compared him
to the good-looking members of the ton ? There was no
shortage of handsome single men who knew exactly how to converse
with a woman, how to charm them, and how to woo them.
    So he lived vicariously through the characters in his
books. They were his friends. Although he'd already read nearly
every title on the shelves, he'd come to this quiet little shop, on
the edge of town, hoping find something new. There had to be
something...
    "Oooof!"
    The missile hitting his abdomen doubled him over,
knocking the breath from his lungs. When he'd recovered enough to
straighten, his eyes focused on the most beautiful woman he'd ever
seen. Had the punch to his stomach addled his brain, or did a halo
surround this woman's face? The lively young thing waved her arms
as she talked, and judging from the way her mouth moved, she spoke
as quickly as she moved. Shiny golden curls tumbled from her
bonnet, and her deep brown eyes radiated with intelligence and
purpose. Fascinated by the way her luscious lips formed her words,
he forgot to pay attention to what she was saying.
    The lips stopped moving, and her eyes widened. She
must be waiting for him to reply, but he had no idea what she'd
just said.
    "Er — pardon me, miss. I didn't see you. I sincerely
hope you're not injured." Spying a handful of books scattered near
her feet, he quickly bent and retrieved them for her. "Here you
are."
    Her lovely brown eyes narrowed. Had he said something
stupid? Sometimes he did, especially when he hadn't followed a
conversation closely. Since he'd lost most of his hearing in the
accident that had disfigured his face, he'd learned to read lips
quite well, but occasionally he'd get it wrong, much to the
amusement of his cousins, who would tease him mercilessly.
    "I'm fine, good sir," she said, taking the books he
offered. "And I thank you for retrieving my books." She took them
and whirled away without so much as a goodbye.
    Phillip stood transfixed, staring after her.
    Slowly, common sense returned, and he sighed
regretfully. Such a lovely woman would never consider a friendship,
much less a courtship, with someone like him.
    Remembering his reason for entering the bookstore,
Phillip continued to peruse the titles. At the back of the store,
he found the section from which the lady had emerged. Here he found
an assortment of slender books like those she had dropped. They
were children's stories. Of course. She was married and probably
had been there to purchase books for her children. He'd best forget
about dreaming of a life with her.
    Chagrined, he moved on to the next section. His eye
caught a familiar name from his youth. An elegantly bound volume
held a collection of poetry by Robert Burns. He remembered