Page 46 of A Literary Liaison
“For us, it was the arduous task of breaking stones and bones, shucking oysters,” Elisha replied softly. “Our hands were raw and cut beyond recognition.”
A weighty silence descended upon them, and Elisha felt the shared comprehension of past suffering forge an unexpected bond amidst the opulent surroundings.
Steven cleared his throat, straightening his cravat. “It is the impetus behind my relentless drive, my… protective stance toward all I have constructed. But I entreat you to understand, I genuinely desire what is best for Amelia, yourself, and our business ventures.”
As they moved through the furniture emporium, Elisha scrutinized his countenance, contemplating the sincerity she perceived in his expression. “I am most appreciative of your sentiment, Mr. Thornton.”
“However,” he continued, his gaze intensifying as he ran a handalong the back of a Chippendale settee, “I meant what I articulated regarding your correspondence with Mr. Steele. It is of paramount importance to our business ventures that you perpetuate the conflict. Moreover, I find myself experiencing a tinge of… jealousy.”
Elisha felt a rush of warmth suffuse her cheeks, her hand instinctively reaching for her fan. “Mr. Thornton, we are scarcely acquainted.”
“That may be true,” he conceded, adjusting the fit of his kid gloves, “but I certainly feel as though I know you intimately. Amelia has extolled your virtues on countless occasions, and upon our initial meeting a fortnight hence, I was utterly captivated by your beauty.”
Elisha felt her breath catch in her throat, taken aback by the directness of his declaration. “Mr. Thornton, I… I am most flattered, but I must confess I find your words rather… unexpected.”
Steven’s gaze softened, and she observed a gentle smile playing about his lips as he gestured toward a display of fine china. “I apologize if I have discomposed you, Elisha. It was not my intention. I merely wished to express my admiration and… my hope that we might become better acquainted.”
As they continued their perusal of the furnishings, Elisha found herself in a state of conflicted emotions. On one hand, Steven’s shared history and apparent sincerity touched her deeply. On the other, his sudden declaration of interest left her feeling uneasy.
“Mr. Thornton,” she began carefully, adjusting her shawl, “while I am touched by your words, I must remind you that my primary focus is on my work with our business ventures and our literacy program. Any… personal considerations must remain secondary to that purpose.”
Steven nodded, and she observed a look of understanding cross his features as he examined an ornate Regency-style mirror. “Of course, Miss Linde. I would expect nothing less from a woman of your dedication and principles. Perhaps, in time, you might come to see thatour goals are not so very different.”
As they made their way toward the exit of Mortimer’s Fine Furnishings, Elisha tried to banish thoughts of the duke from her mind. She realized with a start that she had found genuine pleasure in her discourse with Steven and was begrudgingly developing a measure of respect for him. Despite his humble origins, he had clearly procured a substantial education, and his opinions on literature were surprisingly astute. She found herself chuckling at his wry observations regarding London Society.
“I am most grateful for this enlightening excursion, Mr. Thornton,” she said as they paused by a display of Wedgwood china. “It has been… most illuminating.”
He took her gloved hand, raising it to his lips in a gentlemanly salute. “The pleasure was entirely mine, Miss Linde. I do hope we might have the opportunity to engage in such discourse again in the near future.”
As Elisha observed his figure approaching a shop staff member, she wondered about this enigmatic man who seemed at once charming and calculating, then vulnerable and guarded. She found herself quite at a loss as to how to regard him.
One thing, however, remained certain. He was not the Duke of Lancaster.
The comparison arose unbidden in her mind, and Elisha chided herself for allowing her thoughts to stray in such a direction. Yet she could not help but notice the stark differences between the two men. Where the duke exuded a natural, almost effortless charm, everything Mr. Thornton did felt studied and carefully crafted, though no less sincere for that calculation.
As she stepped into the carriage waiting outside, Elisha found herself feeling an inexplicable sense of loyalty to the duke—a man who, she reminded herself sternly, had no claim on her affections, especially given the recent scandal sheets.
“How was your outing?” Amelia asked when Elisha entered their shared office, her tone laced with barely suppressed curiosity.
Elisha paused, considering her response carefully. “It was… enlightening,” she replied, echoing her words to Mr. Thornton. “Your brother is a more complex man than I had initially supposed.”
As she dipped her pen in ink, Elisha resolved to focus on her work, pushing thoughts of both men to the recesses of her mind. After all, she reminded herself, she had business ventures to manage and a literacy program to nurture. Matters of the heart would have to wait.
The Offer
The gazette’s officewas thick with the scent of ink and oil, but the usual rhythmic clatter of the printing press had fallen silent. Elisha knelt beside the massive machine, her sleeves rolled up and her hands stained black with grease and ink as she helped two pressmen examine the seized gears.
“Elisha,” Amelia called, weaving through the chaos with a stack of newspapers in her arms. “I’ve brought the latest editions from our competitors for your perusal.”
Elisha nodded, not looking up from her work. “Thank you, Amelia. Just set them on my desk, if you would. I’ll review them once we’ve got this beast running again.”
Hours passed, the sun dipping low on the horizon before Elisha finally straightened, stretching her aching back. She made her way to her desk, eager to see what news the other papers deemed worthy of print.
As she leafed through the pages, a familiar name caught her eye. Her heart quickened as she read:
“Duke of Lancaster Spotted in Bath”
Frowning, Elisha read on. The article described Edgar dancing at a gentleman’s club, “in the company of a striking blonde beauty.” She shook her head, confusion warring with anger.
