Page 32 of Duke It Out
My imposter syndrome baulks at the idea of being considered an expert at anything and I feel a little prickle of discomfort at the nape of my neck.
“I’m treating it like a research library and trying to forget about—” I motion towards the portrait “It’s kind of hard to do with him looking down on me. I feel like I’m being judged.”
“Why don’t you bring all the stuff through to the library? At least that way you could get on without his beady eye on you.”
“Do you think he’d approve?” I look up at the portrait and Janey follows my gaze.
“I think he’d love to think he was centre of attention,” she says wryly. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Janey picks up a stack of journals for me and we carry them through to the library.
“He was a character. Stubborn as a mule. He could be charming, but that’s—” She pauses for a moment and frowns. “That’s not always a good sign in a man, in my experience.”
I shoot her a questioning look.
“Let’s just say I’ve had my fill of ostensibly charming men.” Janey raises her brows. “I was married to one for fifteen years.”
I don’t want to push, so I just give what I hope is an understanding nod.
“So yeah, charming. But he could turn on you in a flash. He was always lovely to me, but he went through staff at arate of knots and spent money like water. There’s a reason this place looks like a high-end hotel.” She runs her hand along the polished wood of the mantelpiece. “Most Highland estates are all faded grandeur and dark patches on the wallpaper where they’ve sold off a portrait to pay for the roof repairs. Unless you’re talking about Brice Aaronson, the American tech billionaire who bought the neighbouring castle. Now his place makes Loch Morven look like a Holiday Inn.”
There’s a long walnut desk in a bay window which looks out over the courtyard. “This would be a good place to work. You can watch the world go by while you make sense of all this.” She gestures towards the journals.
“I’m beginning to get the feeling it’s a bit more complicated than I thought.”
“A challenge.” Janey grins. “Maybe you’ll get some inspiration for your own writing.”
I think of Rory’s grim-faced warning and shake my head. “I think I’ll keep the two separate.”
“So, you’re working on a novel?” We trek back to the study to collect another load of books and papers.
I nod.
“What’s it about?”
“It’s a romance. My agent says I need to rewrite it and add some dragons and then maybe it’ll sell.”
“Do youwantto add dragons?”
I shake my head. “It’s a historical series about three sisters or it would be, if I could find the courage to actually start writing again.”
“I love a good romance…” Janey holds the door open with a toe as I carry a box of papers through the passageway. “If you ever want to share it, I’d love to have a look.”
My stomach squirms with nerves. Sending it out into the world and getting nowhere was a pretty big blow to my already-sensitive ego. “It’s not perfect,” I say, hesitating.
“I suspect you’re doing yourself a disservice. Email it to me and I’ll put it on my Kindle.”
My face must speak volumes because Janey puts a reassuring hand on my arm.
“Only if you want to,” she adds, giving me a squeeze. “But I mean it, I’d love to read.”
I dump the box down on the desk. Janey is so sweet, even though I’m pretty certain she’s only saying this to make me feel better. “Okay,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “I’ll send it once we’ve got all this stuff through here.”
It’s such a tiny thing. But the idea that someone might want to read my work, without strings or expectations, it means more than I can say.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
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