Page 55 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
“Go,” Imelda urged her friend. “Let everyone say their part now. You and I will meet for lunch or something to celebrate.”
Charlotte’s grin was beatific as she was swept away, her joy palpable.
Imelda watched her rejoin Spencer, their hands joining for all of the world as if they had been engaged for years versus moments.
“Now there’s just your marriage to see to,” Mr. Merrit sighed ominously from behind her.
Imelda jumped, her teeth gritting as she forced a smile and turned to face her father. He’d been dropping endless hints for days on end, along with numerous open-ended statements designed to try and lead her into any topic concerning betrothals.
“I told you that Theodore and I were not nearly so serious as Aunt Lydia may have made it seem,” Imelda reminded him gently. She hadn’t completely discounted any possibility of a romance there, but there was no real desire to begin one either.
“That doesn’t mean that there is no one else,” her father offered sagely, staring hard at her from over the rim of his wire-rimmed spectacles.
And Imelda’s throat closed up.
There was no way that he had seen her and Corin. No way that he could possibly know about what she and Corin had just done, or anything about Corin at all even, and yet the embarrassment was right there simmering beneath the surface. She felt her cheeks warm up, her lips pressing hard into one another with the knowledge that she was blushing.
And her father only seemed to look more pleased for it.
“I thought so.” Mr. Merrit chuckled. He squeezed Imelda’s shoulder as she felt her heart sink. “I may be a preoccupied old man, but despite my grief, I still have eyes. And at least half of a brain as well.”
Imelda’s words were trapped in her throat, her heart pounding in her ears as her father turned to walk away.
She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t tell her father, either, that it didn’t matter because she couldn’t give into such feelingsandbe independent.
“Oh!”
Her father stopped mid-turn, spinning back to her. “Before I forget. A letter came for you. Your uncle told me to give it to you, but amid all the preparation to get here, I’d forgotten.”
He handed Imelda the envelope, offering her a rare smile before walking off once more in the direction of the newly engaged couple.
Imelda looked down at the seal and then at her family circled so happily around one another.
She just…
She just needed a moment.
She stole away quietly, heading toward the steps of Vauxhall in search of a powder room to give herself some time away from all of the commotion. It had been one thing after another since arriving, and her nerves were beginning to feel frayed.
Between Corin, the proposal, and her father…
And now a letter from Mr. Batten.
Even with all of her conflict surrounding Corin and her work, she still felt a sliver of excitement as she traded the cool night air for the warmly lit interior of Vauxhall. The path to the powder room was familiar now, the envelope clutched firmly in one hand.
A part of her felt as if she should wait for Corin, but another, larger part knew that if she did, she would only be delaying getting the news further. Because in front of her, with the two different problems, everything with Corin would win out, and the letter would be forgotten untilafterthey had hashed out what lay between them.
And she needed to know.
She needed to see, on paper, that all of her hard work had paid off. That she had earned her place and title among the literary community on her own because of her own talent.
She shut the door behind her as she slid into the room, pressing her back against it as she all but ripped open the envelope.
My Dear Miss Merrit,
On behalf of my publishing company, I regret to inform you that we will not be moving forward with the piece you have submitted to us. While we do agree with your benefactor and editor, Lord Salthouse, that you show great literary promise, the project you have given us falls just short. It is excellently written and has many redeeming qualities, but I regret to inform you that I just do not think the chapters will sell to the public at large.
Take heart in knowing that the feedback concerning your writing was all generally positive. As I tried warning Lord Salthouse, there just aren’t many women in this industry. Female authors are so few and far between for a reason.
