Page 80 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
Chapter 28
“Well?” Henry asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
William looked up from the blank piece of paper in front of him. To his far right, Henry and Lord Longfellow stood together, mirroring one another’s stance. They both stared at William, waiting impatiently for him to write his note, their arms folded.
“I cannot do this with you two staring at me.” He waved a hand at the two of them. In truth, he was not sure he could do it at all. He couldn’t speak of love in a letter. He was not a good enough wordsmith to make it happen. Becca was the one who could write a good love letter, not him.
“This will never work,” Henry said to Lord Longfellow at his side. “He’ll spend the whole day dithering.”
“I fear you’re right.”
“I am here, you know,” William reminded them and snatched up the quill.
He was halfway through the letter before he realized that Henry and Lord Longfellow, by expressing doubt, had actually stirred him into action.
Unable to write about his love, he intended to speak of it directly to Becca instead. To do that, he had to meet her again. When he was done with his note, he read back over what he had written.
“Dearest Becca,
I enclose a gift for you—a brooch. Please wear it on Saturday night and come to our masquerade ball at Lord Longfellow’s house. It is intended to be a celebration for our book, and I would like nothing more than for you to be there.
I know well enough you think it right we avoid each other at present, but I beg of you, give me this one thing. I should like to talk to you at the ball, alone.
Your friend,
William.”
He felt intensely dissatisfied with it. He had said nothing of love, and he wasn’t even sure it was friendly enough after all that had passed between them. Would she think the letter cold and curt? Would she think it demanding? It was a far cry from the whispered words of love, of needing one another when they had made love that night in her bed.
“That will do.” Henry snapped up the letter.
“I’m not done with it yet.”
“You cannot dither about it all day. This brooch is to be delivered, too, yes?” He snapped up the brooch that William had laid down on the writing bureau beside him. In the middle of the golden circle was a feathered quill, flecked in gold and silver.
“Yes.”
Henry folded up the quill inside of the letter and picked up a stick of red wax, melting it into a spoon that he then dropped onto the letter.
William’s mood darkened as he stared at the letter.
Maybe she will ignore it. Maybe she will choose not to come at all.
***
“Father? Father!” Becca ran into the dining room. Franny was hurrying behind her, carrying the numerous newspapers and scandal sheets that had arrived that morning.
“What do they say?” Franny asked in excitement. “Do they speak of the book?”
“They do, they do. Oh, they love it. What a relief!” Becca giggled in delight feeling tension lifting from her shoulders as she hurried toward her father. She noticed briefly that he turned over a sealed letter, placing the address down beside his breakfast plate, but she paid it no further heed.
“Father, look.” She took some of the newspapers from Franny and passed them to her father. “They love it. See?”
He took the papers, a sudden smile stretching across his face. He stood slowly from his seat and placed an arm around Becca’s shoulders.
“Congratulations, love. What joy this is. Look, look what they say.”
“What do they say?” Franny asked impatiently, huffing and placing her hands on her hips. “Please, Master, read something of them to me.”
