Page 60 of A Literary Liaison
“The whole of London has, thanks to your feud,” Amelia teased. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about the man behind the words? I picture him as tall, blond, statuesque.”
“Hardly,” Elisha snorted. “I imagine he’s of average height, pleasant enough to look at but rather portly, with thinning hair and a short beard to compensate.”
Amelia and Charlotte exchanged amused glances. “You seem to have given this some thought,” Amelia observed. “Have you seen him? Do you know his identity?”
“Of course not,” Elisha lied. The truth was, she had imagined him just as Amelia had described except dark haired. She had forced herself to stop fantasizing about him, however, when her imaginary Mr. Steele merged with the image of the duke. It was too disturbing to contemplate. She might cope with losing one man, but two was too heartbreaking.
“Well, whoever he is, he’s certainly good for business,” Amelia said, lowering her voice. “Our subscription numbers have increased by ten percent each week since your correspondence began.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Impressive.”
As they continued to discuss the implications of Steele’s challenge,Elisha found her mind wandering again to the Duke of Lancaster. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would make of all this.
“Elisha?” Amelia’s voice broke through her companion’s reverie. “Where did your thoughts wander? You appeared leagues away.”
“Oh, it was nothing of import,” Elisha replied hastily, reaching for her teacup. “I was merely pondering whether Mr. Steele might occupy a prominent position in Society. If he possesses the means to donate 1000 pounds sterling, surely we might have heard of him.”
“In truth, I have been endeavoring to uncover his identity, but to no avail,” Amelia confessed. “It is most peculiar. None can offer any insight into Mr. Steele, even accounting for his nom de plume. I’ve been discussing the finer points with his solicitor, Mr. Beckett, but I dare not ask him to betray his client’s confidence.”
“When are the tomes to be published?” Charlotte asked, her legal mind ever attuned to the specifics.
“Let me see,” Amelia said, consulting a small notebook. “The manuscript is to be submitted on the 15th of August, printed and distributed by October, with the final tally of orders to be completed on New Year’s Eve.”
“The final draft is due but one month hence,” Elisha exclaimed, her palms pressed to her cheeks in dismay. “Between my articles and teaching duties, I have scarcely had a moment to write.” She rubbed her temples, fatigue etched on her features.
“Have no fear on that account. I believe Steven has an idea.”
“Truly? Such as?”
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise for him. I will let him tell you, but it will help your literary endeavor.”
“Whatever it is, I am deeply grateful, Amelia.”
“Have you engaged an agent or a publishing house for your tale?” Charlotte asked, her posture straightening.
“I regret to say I have not had the opportunity to investigate the matter,” Elisha replied, glancing uncertainly at Amelia, who shook herhead in response.
“Splendid!” Charlotte exclaimed, her enthusiasm taking both women by surprise. “I confess I have been suffering from an excess languor since our arrival. Andrew is consumed by his business affairs, and while our social calendar overflows, it offers little in the way of intellectual stimulation. I am thankful to have found a purpose at last. I marvel that no one has approached you, given the veritable gold mine of publicity at your disposal. Once I secure an offer, I shall have it scrutinized by Andrew’s solicitor, unless you have another in mind.” Charlotte regarded them with keen eyes.
Both women shook their heads and murmured their gratitude.
Charlotte rose, gathering her parasol and reticule. “I shall take my leave to secure a publishing house and negotiate the most advantageous terms imaginable. My first call shall be to Chapman and Hall, the publishers of both Mr. Dickens and Mr. Steele. I intend to insist they match Mr. Steele’s remuneration, given the profit they stand to gain from this literary wager. Should they prove recalcitrant, I shall not hesitate to approach Longman.”
With a swift kiss upon each cheek, Charlotte hastened away. Elisha watched her departure, grateful for her advocacy yet somewhat unsettled by her precipitous exit.
The Meeting
Steven Thornton leanedback in his plush leather chair, his eyes fixed on Elisha with an intensity that made her slightly uncomfortable. The office seemed to shrink under his scrutiny.
“Miss Linde,” he began, his tone deceptively casual, “I find myself in need of your particular talents this evening.”
Elisha raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what talents might those be, Mr. Thornton?”
A smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. “Your journalistic acumen, of course. There’s to be a function at the Reform Club. Several prominent members of Parliament will be in attendance.”
“I see. And your interest in this gathering?”
Thornton leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “You may not be aware, but I’ve been negotiating the purchase of the Royal Mail Coach Company. This event presents an opportunity to… shall we say, gauge the political climate surrounding the potential acquisition. I’d like you to accompany me,” Thornton said smoothly.
