Page 42 of A Literary Liaison
So why did it feel like chains closing around her?
“You’re very kind,” she managed, “but I—”
“Don’t answer now,” he cut in smoothly. “Take time to consider. I know it’s unexpected, though surely not entirely surprising. We work so well together, share so many goals…”
A knock at the door saved her from responding. Amelia entered, then stopped short at the scene before her.
“I apologize for interrupting,” she said, her sharp eyes taking in Elisha’s tension and her brother’s proximity. “But Mr. Wordsworth’sletter has arrived. He wishes to contribute a regular article on education.”
The news should have thrilled her. Instead, Elisha felt it like another brick in the wall being built around her future—a future tied inexorably to theMetropolitan Reviewand to Steven Thornton.
“Wonderful news,” Steven beamed. “You see, Elisha? Everything is falling into place.” He moved toward the door, pausing to add, “Think on what I’ve said. About our future together.”
Only after he left did Elisha release her held breath. Amelia approached cautiously.
“Did he just…?”
“Not officially,” Elisha said, her voice unsteady. “But the intent was clear enough.”
Amelia sat beside her. “What will you do?”
Elisha looked down at her desk—at Steele’s letter about love, at the newspaper with its tale of the duke’s supposed indiscretions, at the fresh contracts that would secure theReview’sfuture.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “For the first time in my life, I truly don’t know.”
The printing press rumbled to life below, its steady rhythm usually so comforting. But today it felt like a countdown, marking the moments until she would have to choose between her heart’s desires and her life’s work.
And she wasn’t sure, anymore, which was which.
Suffering and Courtship
The rhythmic thudof gloved fists against leather resonated through the dimly lit pugilistic establishment. Edgar circled Patrick Adams in the ring, their bare torsos glistening with perspiration. The early morning hour afforded them privacy, the club bereft of patrons save for these two gentlemen, exorcising their frustrations through the noble art of fisticuffs.
Edgar’s jab lacked its customary precision, his movements uncharacteristically languid. Adams deftly evaded the blow, concern evident in his expression as he landed a solid strike to Edgar’s ribs.
“Your mind appears to be elsewhere today, Lancaster,” Adams remarked. “Pray, what troubles you?”
Edgar shook his head, retreating a step to regain his breath. “It is of no consequence. Mere fatigue.”
Adams snorted his disbelief. “Indeed. And I am a man of the cloth.” He lowered his fists, signaling a cessation of their sparring. “I trust this has naught to do with Miss Linde and your recent sojourn to Madame Tansley’s establishment?”
Edgar’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “To what do you refer?”
“Come now, do not feign ignorance,” Adams chided, lightly tapping the duke’s chest. “It is the talk of every scandal sheet in London. ‘Duke of Lancaster Observed Departing Infamous House of Ill Repute.’ What possessed you to act with suchindiscretion when you have a lady’s heart to win over?”
Edgar’s brows furrowed. “I know nothing of this. I have not darkened Madame Tansley’s door since February last.”
Adams shook his head, his expression growing grave. “I wonder, then, who is spreading such falsehoods.”
“I presume they are attempting to peddle more papers, or they were misinformed.” Edgar’s countenance darkened, concerned that the article may lower Miss Linde’s opinion of him even further.
Adams nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. I may be overreacting.”
Edgar turned away, his posture rigid. “What have you uncovered about Thornton?”
“He was the illegitimate son of a wealthy baron who lost everything when the nobleman died with a mountain of debt. No relative was willing to take him in, so he lived on the streets until he was accepted into a workhouse. He proved his intelligence, gaining promotion after promotion, and saved enough to purchase passage to India where he labored in mines until he came to own one. Then two. Then three. When he learned of his half sister from his father’s mistress, he funded her publishing venture, placing himself as the proprietor. He sold his mines and returned to England only recently due to malaria. It seems that his constitution has improved.”
Edgar’s jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “I see. And what of his character?”
