Page 95 of Kathryn

“Oh.” Becky frowned. “I suppose I could—”

“I can go on my own. You remain here and finish whatever you are doing,” she added when the other woman looked ready to argue. Becky—as much as Katie loved her—was not bookish in the least and always made Katie feel like she had to rush whenever they were in a bookshop. “I will be fine walking one street over. I’m not an infant, Becky.”

Becky gave her an agonized look. “If His Grace heard that I left you alone he’d be beside himself.”

Katie doubted that. But she said, “He’ll never know.”

Before Becky could assemble any more arguments, Katie strode off in the direction of the bookshop. Although she had two entire trunks filled with new books, one could, in her opinion, never have too many. But before she reached the bookstore another shop caught her attention. A plain black and white sign saying only, Fossils, hung over the door. A young woman sat in the narrow bow window and appeared to be working on something. Behind her were several other people milling around.

Katie told herself that she wasn’t interested just because Dulverton was mad for fossils. Fossil hunting was currently all the rage not only in Lyme, but all over Britain. Why shouldn’t she have a look?

The shop was even smaller than it appeared from the outside. Shelves lined walls and shrank the space even more. Six people, four men and two women, were chatting with an older woman—who must be the proprietress—near the back.

“Is there something I can assist you with?” the woman seated at the table asked.

“I was just curious about what has drawn so many people.”

The other woman was perhaps a few years older than Katie and dressed in a serviceable gray gown that had obviously been made for utility rather than fashion. She set down the tool she was using and gestured to what she had been working on. “Have you seen one of these?”

Katie approached the table. “Yes, as a matter of fact. My husband has dozens and dozens of them in shadow boxes in his library.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, then you are married to a collector.”

Katie opened her mouth to say she did not know what she was married to but thought better of it. Instead, she said, “We are very newly married, and I have yet to learn much about his interest in fossils.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Er, newly married? Would it be—is it too bold to ask if you are the new Duchess of Dulverton?”

“How did you guess? Are newlyweds so rare in Lyme?”

“Well, there is only one man hereabouts who possesses a collection of dozens of ammonites arranged as you’ve described.” She smiled shyly. “If you will forgive my impertinence, I was the one who assisted His Grace in finding a framer for his collection.”

“Ah, I see.” Katie said, more than a little irked that here was yet another stranger who appeared to know more about her husband than she did.

And whose fault is that? a voice in her head that sounded a great deal like Becky asked.

“I’m afraid I do not know your name,” Katie said.

“Mary Anning, Your Grace.” She dipped a curtsey.

“Is this your shop?”

“It was my father’s, but he passed on and now my mother, brother, and I operate it.”

Katie gestured to the shelves. “And you have found all of these on the beach? Or do you possess a parcel of land where you er, harvest the fossils?”

“We have been fortunate to fill our shelves with the shoreline’s bounty.”

“What were you doing to that piece on the table?”

“I was preparing it for sale.” She gestured to the tool with a flat scraper end and a pointy end. “I use that to clean away the debris.”

Katie lightly stroked the spiral-shaped fossil with one gloved finger. “What a curious creature.”

“Indeed, ammonites are fascinating.”

Ammonites. Katie stored that word away for later. “Have your finds diminished now that so many tourists come to comb the shore?”

“Most of them will only find what washes up. You have to look a bit to find the truly good specimens.” She touched the side of her nose with her finger. “But I cannot share all my secrets, Your Grace.”