The Librarian's Spell by Patricia Rice (reading eggs books TXT) 📕

over the place and they thought me a victim, so I escaped. I owe my cousins and some friends a barrel of whisky.”

Lydia sighed. “And you didn’t tell this to the ladies, why? You were a hero! Your uncle could have hurt someone very badly.” She leaned over and kissed him square on the mouth.

He circled her waist and half pulled her into the tub with him. “Better heroes than me out there. I just want to be a good husband and engineer.” He kissed her thoroughly.

She pushed away and handed him a towel. “And father,” she added. “Do you think you’ll ever see your third son?”

Max dried his hair. “He’s in Colorado, living in a mansion. I left him funds for when he turns eighteen, if he wants to find me. I’d rather he used them for school.” He stood in all his naked glory and watched her worriedly. “Is that wrong of me?”

“Not necessarily, but he needs to know to find you here. What if he has Malcolm traits?” Distracted by his casual toweling off, Lydia wasn’t sure where she’d meant to take this conversation.

“Unlikely, but we can write. His mother will tear any letters apart, so I’ll write the banker in charge of the trust. Or you’ll write him for me.” He grinned and stepped out of the tub. “Just think of all the money I’ll save by not hiring assistants to keep up with family for me.”

“You’ll hire your own secretary,” she said firmly, not backing away when he advanced on her, still wet. She was already soaked anyway. “I am busy and other people can use the work. With wealth comes responsibility.”

“I think I just hired an entire village,” he said with a laugh, capturing her waist with his good arm. “We will be poor wastrels if we do not find oil that’s easily removed from the ground. We will need to be inventive to keep all those men employed and productive. Shall we build a new stable? Housing for tenants?”

“As long as we have the tower for us,” she murmured, reaching to kiss his whiskery jaw. “You can build a new city out there for all I care. A good dressmaker would be convenient.”

“I like the way you think!” And then, with just his one good arm, he carried her to the bed.

After that, neither of them engaged in thinking. Lydia was quite certain Max had her seeing the moon and stars above.

Perhaps their child would be clairvoyant. Or better yet, a librarian engineer who would keep the library in good repair into the next century.

Characters

Lydia Wystan—the Malcolm Librarian’s assistant

Maxwell Ives—an engineer

Mr. Cadwallader—the Malcolm Librarian

Lady Agnes—Max’s mother, part owner of School of Malcolms

Lady Gertrude—Max’s aunt, part owner of School of Malcolms

Bakari Ives Elmahdy —Max’s six-year-old son

Richard—Max’s sixteen-year-old son

Susan—Richard’s mother

Lord Crowley—baron, the librarian’s neighbor

Hugh Morgan—investor; Max’s business partner

Keya Trivedi—Hugh Morgan’s partner

David Franklin—Max’s step-uncle

George Franklin—Max’s step-cousin

Estes—Max’s barrister

Dobbs and Henry—solicitors for the librarian’s trust

Sara Brown—Lydia’s sister

Mrs. Lovell Wystan—Lydia’s mother

Jasper Winchester—Marquess of Rainford; Max’s distant cousin

Gerard Ives—Earl of Ives and Wystan; Max’s distant cousin

Bran and Brendan Pascoe-Ives—twins; Max’s distant cousins

Lord Dare—doctor, professor, viscount

Azmin, Lady Dare—photographer

Lady Phoebe Blair and Andrew Blair—friends of the School of Malcolms

Dingo—diplomat; former schoolmate of Max’s

Percy—schoolmaster; former schoolmate of Max’s

SERVANTS

Hamish Lloyd—manservant

Marta—Librarian’s cook

Beryl—Librarian’s housemaid

Old Tom—Marta’s uncle

Laddie—stable boy

Zach—footman

Mary—young kitchen maid

Sally—scullery maid

Mr. and Mrs. Folkston—housekeeper and butler

Belle Malcolm—new steward

Acknowledgments

The list of people who help me through every book is so extensive that it might make another book. I cannot possibly repeat them all here and will limit myself to major contributors.

Since much of this story was written through a time of isolation from a pandemic, my Muse hid under a bed quite frequently. She might never have been dragged out without the brilliant aid of my fellow brainstormers, Mary Jo Putney and Susan King. They’ve been with me through tears and tirades for decades and probably ought to just shoot me and put me out of my misery. Instead, they always come through with sparkly ideas that lure my contrary Muse from hiding.

To my dear, dear companions in the Book View Café, my immense gratitude for your patience with my forgetfulness and your expertise in the development of this book. In particular, my thanks to Sherwood Smith and Phyllis Radford, editors extraordinaire, for their attention to detail amid my creative wandering.

Most of all, to my dear readers, whose emails and comments remind me of why I sit at this desk every day and argue with contrary characters. Hugs to each and every one of you!

Author’s Note

Due to the pandemic, I was unable to return to Scotland to continue my explorations outside of Edinburgh. I’ve had to rely on the books I’ve brought home on previous trips and the occasionally unreliable internet. Let’s blame any errors on my bad memory and the corona virus!

But I did not entirely make up my Calder Castle’s architecture and history (which will also continue into the next book). It is well known that the Romans pushed into southern Scotland during the first century AD. Admittedly, hill forts were the main means of construction that far north, but Romans knew how to build. Who can say a few Roman engineers didn’t linger?

At the same time, we also have the mystery of the odd brochs in and around that same area. Brochs are well known in the far north, but they’ve also been located close to the Firth of Tay and along the eastern Borders. Built of drywall stone, the unusual brochs were considered high-status buildings, which suits my Druidic Malcolms and ambitious Ives. For a brief glimpse of broch history, take a look here: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofScotland/Brochs-the-Tallest-Prehistoric-Buildings-in-Britain/

And then, of course, we all know about the violent history of defending borders that led to the magnificent stone fortresses scattered across the Scotland countryside. What better reason to build a castle than to protect a growing Malcolm library? So, yes, that part is my fantasy—protecting books instead of kings.

I do hope you’ll enjoy reading my fantasy as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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