Page 3 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
Her stomach knotted at that look. As the door closed, Becca shifted her focus back to Charlotte.
“What is going on?”
Charlotte sighed, not hurrying to answer as she sat on a small desk that was pressed into the corner of the room. She laid the envelope down beside her on the desk, then lifted her head and sighed as she looked at Becca.
“This could either be a great opportunity, or somethin’ ill.”
“Is there a point any time soon where you will stop talking in riddles?” Becca asked, placing her hands on her hips as she walked toward her friend.
“A man came to the print house yesterday.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t give his name.” Charlotte shook her head. “But he was lookin’ for Mr. Reginald Baxter. He wanted to speak with the great writer who had taken London by storm with his characterful, yet truthful, portrayal of people in the streets.” She thrust a finger toward Becca.
“He wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes.”
“But…”
“I know, I know.” Charlotte held her hands up in the air in innocence. “He had no idea the name was an alias. That you were, in fact, a woman. Believe me, when Jarvis first explained someone was lookin’ for you, I panicked.”
“Why?”
“A man skulkin’ about Covent Garden lookin’ for a lady?” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Only one reason jumps to mind, and that’s usually left to the ladies in that back street of Covent Garden—”
“Yes, thank you, Charlotte.” Becca dismissed the words. Her mind cast back to the lady and man she had seen together in thestreet before she thrust the thought away. “Regardless, you said this man was looking for Mr. Baxter.”
“He was. I just told him that a meeting between you two would be impossible. He kept pushin’ the point, and in the end, Jarvis asked why he wanted to meet Mr. Baxter so much?”
“And?” Becca moved to stand beside the desk, now hanging on her friend’s every word.
“And he wanted to commission Mr. Baxter for a project. From what he was wearin’, fine suit, carrying this posh lookin’ stick, too, I’d say it was a commission to write about theton,Becca.”
She nearly dropped her reticule in surprise. She fumbled to catch it.
“Well, you look like an excited pup.” Charlotte laughed a little, though the sound died quickly. “When I refused to introduce you, he offered something else instead.” She passed the envelope into Becca’s hand and said nothing more. She just waved at Becca to open the envelope.
Tearing through the red wax seal, Becca found inside there was a small card, written with heavy calligraphy, the sort of beautiful writing she had only seen in certain papers in her father’s office.
“An invitation?” she read aloud. “An invitation to an assembly at the Almack’s Assembly Rooms. God’s blood, what on earth is this?”
“Well, if you’re goin’ to circle with theton,you might want to curb your street curses, Becca.”
“But…” Becca trailed off, seeing the invitation was not the only thing in the envelope. There was also a small brooch made of solid silver, engraved to look like two crumpled autumnal leaves entwining together. “What is this?” she whispered.
“They call it silver.”
“Charlotte! That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Charlotte’s lips flattened together once more. “The gentleman asked that you go to the assembly if you wish to meet him. He has a commission for you, and he’ll pay handsomely to have you work for him. If you’re interested, he asks that you go and wear that brooch so that he might recognize you.”
Becca lowered her hands, the invitation and the brooch clutched at her sides as she stared forward into nothing.
This was everything she had been hoping for. It was a chance to peer past that window which was between her and the world of theton,and an opportunity to see what the real people of thetonwere like beyond their stiff collars and cravats. Could she do it? Could she really meet this gentleman and go through with his offer to write for him?
“I’ve never written for a commission before. Only ever for your periodical.”
