Along with all the skeletal problems Jane Eyre had suffered, it had dermatological issues as well. Its forest green, three-quarter morocco binding was peeling and rotted out. Part of it had turned to leather dust. The book would require a brand-new cover, obviously. It hurt my heart to see all the damage that had been done to the book, but knowing I could make it look beautiful again was a point of pride.
I decided to save this book for later and turned to the others that needed work. These last four were a matched set of Ann Radcliffe’s formidable series, The Mysteries of Udolpho, published in 1794. The four books were extremely rare and antiquarian, and I was honored to be working on them. Ian had insisted that they were in good condition, given their age. I suppose “good” was a matter of interpretation, since all four brown leather spines were rubbed bare of any gilding. Two covers were severed from their texts and the inner hinges on all four books were tender.
It was remarkable that despite the damage, there were no loose signatures. But the corners of each book were worn through to the boards. The pages were untrimmed and browned and there was foxing throughout.
The books had been rebound once before, so my strict book conservationist self felt free to construct new bindings. Although I would stick with historical accuracy, I planned to make them shine, adding new endpapers and retooling the spines with fresh gilding and raised bands.
In the box of books he had sent me, Ian had included a lengthy write-up for each volume. I enjoyed reading his comments and often gleaned some good historical perspective to guide me in my work.
This was one of the best things about the Covington Library exhibits—besides the books themselves. Ian and his team of curators took great care to give visitors a detailed picture of each book on display and the history behind it. They always included background information on the physical book: Who published it? When and where? Who was the bookbinder? What school of bookbinding did he follow? Why was a particular gilding tool or design popular at the time? What about the stitching? Was it unique to a school or a time in history? What was the provenance of the book? Who first commissioned it? Who had owned it subsequently?
Alongside that information were details about the story itself and the author’s life: What genre did the book represent? What themes ran through the plotline? Who were the author’s influences? What was happening in history during the time she wrote the book? Whom did she inspire?
I scanned the page Ian had sent on The Mysteries of Udolpho. Some of the descriptive information had to have come from the bookseller or auctioneer, such as the condition of the leather and vellum. But there was information about the author, too. I had never read Udolpho, so I was fascinated to discover that Radcliffe was credited with establishing the Gothic genre of fiction and had directly influenced Jane Austen’s Northanger Alley and Charles Dickens’s Little Dorrit, among many others.
My skills would be tested on these four volumes, mainly because they all had to match exactly. But that would come later.
I picked up the first one and began with the simple task of brushing each page until the book was completely free of dust, dirt, and the occasional tiny bug carcass. Some bookbinders preferred a soft brush, but I liked to use a slightly stiff, short-bristled brush to get at every tiny grain that tended to gather in the center folds.
As I worked, I munched on my favorite snack, caramel chocolate kisses. I had become adept at unwrapping the little treats and popping the candy into my mouth without actually touching the chocolate, so I was able to keep my hands clean.
This was an advanced skill. I wouldn’t recommend it to amateurs.
It was almost four o’clock before I realized I was starving for real food and more than ready to make dinner. I covered the books with a white cloth, hopped off my high work chair, and walked back to the kitchen.
I checked the fridge to see what I could make and found leftover chicken and tortillas. There was still time to run to the market to buy the rest of the ingredients for tacos. Yes, I was actually capable of making tacos. I could shred the chicken and chop veggies and grate cheese. It was just cooking and baking that required more skill than I possessed.
Making a mental list, I grabbed my purse and keys and left the house, carefully locking the door behind me.
At the market, I picked up all the necessities for tacos. Then, on a lark, I wandered down a few more aisles to gather the ingredients to make another syllabub. I couldn’t screw it up any worse than I’d already done. It was essentially a pudding, for God’s sake. My mom used to make pudding all the time when I was a kid. Although, to be honest, it came in a box and she just added water. But still, I knew I could do this. And if I succeeded this time, Derek wouldn’t look so squeamish the next time I mentioned I was cooking dinner.
*
The syllabub was a disaster. Again.