Page 77 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“You have outdone yourself, Becca.”
“I beg your pardon?” She turned to look at him in surprise.
“It is beautifully written. Quite magnificent.” He chuckled softly. “It will please me greatly indeed to see it published.”
“I will not be written in my name,” she said hurriedly. “You know it cannot be. Imagine the backlash if it were. It will still be my pseudonym, the same one I use for the paper.”
“If you insist.” Though Frederick hardly seemed pleased with the idea. “What a mad world we live in when there would be a backlash to the simple presence of Miss rather than Mr. on a book cover. Mad indeed.” He pushed past his frustration quickly, though. “I still look forward to seeing it published.” He took her hand and held it tightly in his own. “May this be the beginning of a wonderful career for you, love.”
“Thank you, Father.” She leaned toward him, and he embraced her softly.
“This will pass. I promise you that,” he whispered, “even if it feels now as if it will never pass.”
They didn’t speak of William again nor of heartbreak, but when a tear escaped her eye, he found a handkerchief from his pocket and proffered it to her. She dried her tears in silence, listening to the sounds of the fire as the coal crackled in the grate.
“When will the book be published?” Frederick asked eventually. She sat back and dried her final tears.
“If Lord Lancaster is happy with it,” she paused, for it still felt strange to her to call William by his title. “It shall be published at the end of next month.”
“So soon?”
“I think the money at his disposal and his title has helped to move things along. It will not be long until the world knows the truth about George Dorset.”
***
“I look ridiculous.” Alex tried to untangle the cravat and throw it off his throat. “Is this how all men look in theton?”
“Some of them,” William said with a laugh.
“I look like a budgerigar!” He laughed, too, as he tossed the cravat aside and turned to face the mirror in his chamber again. He turned back and forth as best as he could, the better to examine his tailcoat.
“What of this one instead, sir?” The newly hired valet approached with an even more elaborate cravat in his grasp, and Alex jumped away as if he had been burned.
Knowing that Alex was rather reluctant about the idea of having a valet in general, William jumped up from his seat and went to intercept.
“A little fancy, I think. Perhaps the plain one,” William suggested, encouraging the valet to return to the wardrobe. He turned to face Alex to see he was grimacing.
“Do I really need a valet?” Alex whispered so the valet couldn’t hear him. “I have dressed myself for years, you know.”
William chuckled and took his shoulders, turning him to face the mirror once again.
“He doesn’t have to dress you, but it would be good to have someone to maintain your wardrobe for you at least.”
“Hmm,” Alex did not sound convinced. “I am not sure about this ball of your father’s,” he said eventually.
“You get increasingly worried the closer we get to it.”
“I know.” Alex nodded. “I’m still a clerk, Will.”
“A very wealthy one.”
“And my first job was mucking out the local stables,” Alex reminded him. “I’m not born to stand about in ballrooms.”
“Where you’re born to be doesn’t really matter. It’s what you can be that does matter, and what you want to be,” William assured him. “If you do not like these balls, then you never have to go again, but now our book is published, my father is eager to introduce the world to us.”
“That book.” Alex sighed and then smiled. “She did a brilliant job, didn’t she?”
“She did.” William stepped away from the mirror, turning so his face could no longer be seen.
