Page 43 of A Literary Liaison
Adams chose his words carefully. “By all accounts, he is a man of ambition and drive. With respect to female conquests, he seems quite selective. He has set his sights upon Miss Linde, doubling her wage and accompanying her to every literary and political salon of note.”
Edgar flinched visibly. “I do not wish to hear of Miss Linde in the same sentence as that… man.” He sank to the floor as if his bones had turned to lead.
“I confess I find great pleasure in witnessing your renewed vitality after these many years of melancholy.”
Edgar raised his head, startled. “Vitality? When have I demonstrated such exuberance?”
“Even in your moments of uncertainty regarding the lady, you were imbued with a vigor I had not witnessed in years! The last time your countenance bore such animation was when you believed you had unearthed a treasure chest in the cove. Do you recall the incident?”
“Aye. It was revealed to be a ruse perpetrated by your band of miscreants, the chest filled with naught but manure! I had labored to drag the accursed thing for a mile up the cliff face before I pried it open.”
Adams erupted into peals of laughter at the recollection, barely able to articulate his words. “And you… you thought… to take an axe… the resultant spattering…”
Edgar glowered at his friend as Adams clutched his sides, overcome with mirth.
“I ought to have informed your father, that you might receive a sound thrashing,” Edgar grumbled.
“Then your own sire would have administered a lashing for your lack of loyalty to a friend,” Adams retorted, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
“You were no friend. Merely the son of an exiled nobleman.”
“You speak true, we were no friends. We were brothers. You were well aware of the truth. It is why you never breathed a word of the incident to a soul.”
“You were quite mad. What manner of person expends such effort on a mere prank? Had you applied such diligence to your studies, you might have become a productive member of society.”
“More productive than safeguarding the Prince of Bavaria? Being awarded the Victoria Cross?”
“Certainly more productive than deriving amusement from my predicament.”
Adams’ laughter subsided, his expression growing more serious. “Come now, Lancaster. You know full well I take no pleasure in your distress. I merely wish to see you happy once more.”
Edgar sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “And you believe Miss Linde to be the key to my happiness?”
“I believe she has awakened something in you that has long lain dormant,” Adams replied carefully. “Whether she is the key to your happiness or merely the catalyst for change, I cannot say. But I implore you, do not dismiss these feelings so readily.”
Edgar rose to his feet, pacing the room with restless energy. “And what would you have me do? Court a woman so far beneath my station? Invite the scorn and ridicule of the ton?”
Adams watched his friend’s agitated movements, his voice gentle but firm. “I would have you follow your heart, for once in your life. Thetonbe damned. You are the Duke of Lancaster. If you cannot choose your own path, who can?”
Edgar paused, his hand resting on the mantelpiece. “It is not so simple, Adams. There are expectations, responsibilities…”
“And there is life, Lancaster,” Adams interrupted. “A life that you have denied yourself for far too long. But before you decide if she is worth the risk, there is something you should know.”
Edgar turned to face his friend, his expression grim.
“Mark Evans, he is the manager of the biggest textile factory in these parts. He is also possibly the leader of the Pioneers, although no one knows exactly.”
Edgar’s brows furrowed. “The group which has been in battles with the Widows?”
“That very one. Mark Evans was spotted by my men meeting with Miss Linde on two occasions in a dark alley past midnight.”
The statement hung in the air between them, charged with possibility and fraught with uncertainty. Edgar felt his neck muscles tighten with tension.
“It seems Miss Linde is one of the authors of the reform pamphlets. If I had to guess, she stores the pamphlets at theMetropolitanoffice, one of the reasons why she lodges there.”
Edgar’s face darkened like a thundercloud as a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Good Lord! Find out, will you? If the authorities discover her involvement, she could face sedition charges—transportation, or worse.” His voice grew hard with barely controlled fury. “The foolish woman is risking her life for these causes.”
He began pacing, his agitation evident. “And if she is storing them at theMetropolitan, bring them to my cave for storage. Meet with this Evans fellow and determine how else Miss Linde is involved. I shall step in to keep her safe whether she welcomes my protection or not.”
