Autumn was on its way and Catherine Ennington still wasn't as much as engaged. Now all interesting men, the ones with titles and land, had left Whitby to go back to doing whatever they did outside of summer, and Cathy was faced with the prospect of being stuck in this town the entire winter with nothing to do except charity work, calling on their small circle of equals, and shop. (She wouldn't be caught dead in anything sold in Whitby.) The doctor did not deem her well enough to go back to school, or, which was worse, to travel far. 

Some books might bring some relief from boredom, though she could not read long without developing migraines. At least browsing for books filled some time. And so on a sunny afternoon, the carriage drew up in front of the book shop and Catherine stepped out, dressed in a fine blue dress with fashionably puffed sleeves. She told the footman to wait in the carriage and not to disturb her until she was done. 

The bell rang overhead as she stepped in.