Page 37 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“Ah, Henry, is all well?” William asked, keeping his voice as level as he possibly could. Henry’s eyes flicked between the two of them, and William saw distinctly the suspicion in his eyes, but nothing was said on that score.
“Yes. Would you like tea as you work?”
“Yes, please,” William said. Still, he watched Henry, and as his friend left the room, he glanced back, and their eyes met.
He knows.
***
“Watch it, lass!” a voice called out in the streets of Covent Garden as Becca ran once more. Light was fading in the sky, and if she didn’t want to raise her father’s suspicions again, she had to get to the print house and have this conversation fast so she could be home before dark.
When she reached the door of the print house, she knocked madly on the wood, out of breath and yet unable to stop. A minute later, the door was flung open by Charlotte.
“Only you knock like that.” Charlotte blew a loose lock of her hair out of her eyes and wiped her face, managing to smear some of the ink that had been on her fingers across her cheek. “What’s wrong?” she said a moment later, her eyes narrowing on Becca.
“Nothing.”
“Well, that was about as convincing as when my little brother lies. In, now,” Charlotte ordered, pointing over her shoulder. Becca was only too happy to follow the orders of her friend.
They walked past the printing machinery, listening to the heavy clacking and thudding, which made it impossible to talk. Charlotte led the way through the shadows of the print house, the smell of ink hovering in the air until they reached the far end of the room, and Charlotte showed Becca into a small office. In this room, the scent of a fire competed with the ink, and the door managed to muffle the sounds of the machinery a little.
Charlotte gestured for Becca to sit, but she could do no such thing. She paced up and down in front of the fire.
“What is wrong?” Charlotte asked as she perched on the edge of the desk in the room, rolling up her sleeves. “You look like a startled cat, back curled and claws out.”
“I’m not that bad!”
“Then tell me what is wrong?” Charlotte demanded, waving a hand at her. “There must be something.”
“Oh.” Becca didn’t know how to describe it. She halted before the fire and turned to face her friend. “It’s…it’s hard to speak of.”
“No jestin’.” Charlotte laughed. “Clearly, it is for you to stand there dumbstruck, unable to say anythin’ at all. Start speakin’, Becca. Or I put you to work on the printers.”
“Oh, anything but that.” Becca nodded. She had come to speak, and now was the time to air all her thoughts, to get some advice from her trusted friend, but it was very difficult to admit aloud the boundaries she had already crossed. “You know I told you that I had met the baron at the assembly, that we danced together, that I…”
“For a writer, it seems odd that words have failed you so much.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “That you…” She waved at her, encouraging her to finish the sentence.
“That I felt a…fondness for him.”
“Hmm.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, watching Becca as if she were an owl. “When you say fondness, are we speakin’ of attraction or somethin’ more?”
“That’s exactly it!” Becca waved a hand at her. “I no longer know.”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte jumped off the desk in surprise, moving toward her.
“Oh, Charlotte. I thought at first it was just attraction, then he and I…” She started pacing once more, up and down, until the floorboards creaked beneath her. “We did something together. We shared…a passion.”
“God’s blood.” Charlotte’s eyes widened. “You’re not…?” She gestured to Becca’s stomach.
“What? No, no. We didn’t go so far with our passions, but we did cross boundaries.”
“God’s blood.” Charlotte suddenly smiled. “What was it like?”
“Charlotte!” Becca rounded on her in outrage.
“Oh, forgive my curiosity. Nothin’ wrong with wonderin’, is there? You clearly did, to have gone and done somethin’ about it.”
“You are not helping.”
