Page 115 of A Literary Liaison
Edgar rose from the chair, feeling lighter than he had since New Year’s Eve.
Hawkins began tidying his implements with meticulous care whiletalking almost to himself. “If the lady rejects Your Grace after everything you’ve been through together, I shall personally pack your bags for an extended tour of the Continent. Sometimes strategic retreat is the only option left to a gentleman.”
Edgar paused at the door to his dressing room. “And if she forgives me?”
A genuine smile crossed Hawkins’ weathered features. “Then I shall begin preparing for a wedding, Your Grace. Though I do hope you’ll give me adequate notice—orchestrating a ducal wedding requires significantly more effort than trimming an overgrown beard.”
As Edgar allowed Hawkins to complete his transformation as a duke, he felt something he hadn’t experienced in months: hope. Whether Elisha would accept his apology, whether she could forgive his deceptions, remained to be seen. But for the first time since New Year’s Eve, he believed it might be possible.
An hour later, the morning sun was crisp and bright over London’s rooftops when Edgar presented himself at theMetropolitan Review, his appearance once again befitting a duke in love.
As he approached the imposing building, he noticed a slim figure huddled near the entrance. He recognized young Jonathan from the literacy contest, his clothes showing signs of a night spent outdoors. The boy’s eyes widened in recognition.
“Your Grace,” Jonathan whispered, ducking his head in deference.
Edgar paused, studying the young man’s worn appearance. “You’re the book wizard from the contest, are you not? What brings you here at such an early hour?”
“Mr. Thornton offered me a job at the gazette but didn’t specify when he expected me.”
After a brief exchange about Mr. Thornton’s promise and Jonathan’s daily vigil since, Edgar’s heart softened. “Come, let us make our inquiries together.”
Taking a deep breath, he raised the brass knocker and announcedtheir arrival. The young man’s wide-eyed anticipation seemed to equal his own.
“Your Grace! What a pleasant surprise!” Amelia said with a bright smile. “And I remember you. You are Jonathan, the famous book wizard.”
Jonathan smiled shyly at the compliment, shifting from right foot to left.
As Amelia Thornton ushered them into the office she shared with Elisha, Edgar’s eyes took in every detail of the room. He developed a new appreciation for the small space, though he’d seen it before, likely because he wasn’t certain if he’d see it ever again after today. The office bore the unmistakable touches of care and refinement. He noted the simple paintings of vases of wildflowers, their simple beauty an indication of the inhabitants’ sensibilities.
Settling onto the worn settee, Edgar felt an unfamiliar flutter of nervousness in his chest. He had faced down lords and ladies in the most intimidating of social situations, yet here, in this unpretentious setting, he found himself battling thousands of butterflies in his gut. Jonathan mirrored his own apprehension, remaining standing while shifting his weight.
When Elisha entered the room, Edgar’s breath caught in his throat. Her simple day dress and hastily pinned up hair only served to enhance her natural beauty in his eyes. He rose to his feet, summoning every ounce of his ducal composure.
“Miss von Linde,” he began, allowing a hint of playfulness to color his tone, “I come to report for duty as your personal assistant, as per the terms of our wager. I am a man of my word, after all.”
Edgar cleared his throat, his eyes moving between Elisha and Jonathan. “I happened upon young Jonathan quite by chance. As I approached theMetropolitan’soffices, I observed him standing near the entrance.”
He turned to Jonathan with a gentle smile. “I recognized him fromthe literacy contest, of course. Upon inquiry, he shared his daily vigil, awaiting Mr. Thornton’s promised opportunity.”
Elisha’s brow furrowed as she processed this information. “Mr. Thornton hasn’t been in since the contest. I am sorry you waited all this time. Why did you not ask someone for help?”
Jonathan looked at Edgar as if to ask for permission to speak. Upon his nod, the boy said, “I asked a man fixing the machine, Miss, but he chased me away.”
After a moment of contemplation, Elisha addressed Edgar, her tone businesslike yet tinged with warmth. “Very well, Your Grace. Since you’ve volunteered your services, I believe we should put them to good use.”
She glanced at Jonathan, taking in his filthy appearance with compassion. “Our first order of business shall be to attend to the young man’s immediate needs. Your Grace, I task you with assisting Jonathan in refreshing himself. The washroom is just down the hall.”
Edgar’s eyebrows rose slightly, uncertain how to go about washing away weeks, if not months, of grime using a wash basin, but he nodded in acquiescence.
Elisha continued, “Once he’s bathed, I believe some clean attire would be in order. Your Grace, might I impose upon you to procure some suitable clothing? Perhaps from your own wardrobe as I doubt any shops are open at this hour.”
The boy began to protest, his eyes wide with the suggestion of donning a duke’s shirt.
For a moment, Edgar was taken aback by her instructions. Then he smiled with admiration. “As you wish, Miss von Linde. I shall dispatch a messenger to my residence forthwith.”
Turning to Jonathan, he said with warmth, “Come, young man. Let’s get you sorted.”
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