Page 32 of A Lady's Beloved Novelist
James was beginning to realise that he should have told her sooner about his writing career. He should not have let it fall to the bottom of his priority list in his attempts at courting Andrea, but he also should not have left it off his list of accomplishments in life. James remembered one of her letters where she had complimented his writing style; even just in the letters she had been a fan of his words.
He smiled at the thought of finally telling her that he was Dean Morris, he was the real-life Francis Griffith who had been on those adventures. It had been him all along.
The light in the front room was on as he reached his house. James had been so enraptured by his own confusing thoughts that he had almost forgotten he was going to have to deal with another evening of Cecil lurking around his home.
James felt his smile dim somewhat at the thought of knowing Cecil would want something from him, some information about how his day went. But he was not up to telling him.
The scene inside, however, was much different from what James had imagined. Cecil was sitting at the table, his spectacles pushed up on his nose and an array of paper splayed out around him.
“What on Earth are you doing?” James snapped, his voice rising instantly, propelled on by pure panic.“You have been through my things again?”
“I have found out more than I bargained for, that is for sure,” Cecil said with a sly chuckle.“You, James, have a lot of explaining to do…or should I start calling you Dean now?”
James stared at the paper in Cecil’s hand. He knew what it was in an instant. It was a statement of his finances, and James knew it would include a column for royalties. His eyes scanned over the table, and he spotted early drafts of works that were already published under Dean Morris.
“Oh yes, it all makes so much more sense to me now,”Cecil continued.“I knew there was something going on, that you would not just be sent to this corner of the countryside to live out your days. I knew you must be up to something. At first, I thought you were just here because of that girl, but it is so much more than that, is it not?”
“Cecil, you do not know what you are talking about.” James shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.“You really do not understand.”
“Oh I do.”Cecil chuckled.“You see, a few months ago I was travelling down to London, and I thought I had do some light reading along the way. All that I happened to have on me was a penny adventure book by a vaguely renowned author known as Dean Morris. Now, to me, the adventure felt oddly…familiar.”
“Cecil…”
“And I thought to myself, I have a lot in common with this Francis chap, perhaps the author was fighting out in the war like I was with my friends,” Cecil continued, his face growing hard.“But what I had not anticipated was that my friend was this mysterious author all along.”
“Get out,” James said. He did not feel he had to explain himself, and he certainly was not going to.
“I am sorry?”
“Get out, that is it, I cannot have you here anymore,” James said whilst moving over to the table and beginning to grab at the various pieces of paper that had been strewn around.
“You cannot just expect me to leave.” Cecil was still laughing off James’sudden decision.
“I can, and I do. I do not care if it means you have nowhere else to go. You have continuously violated my privacy whilst staying here and I will not stand for it any longer,” James announced.“You have to go, Cecil. I am sorry, but I cannot trust you and I am not going to lock away all of my private business just because you are here.”
“I did not think you would be capable of doing such a thing to me.” Cecil was not laughing as much anymore.
“I am sure you can go back to your parents. They may not accept you with open arms, but I am sure that they will still accept you back regardless.” James was not going to relent. He was not going to give in just because he felt bad.
“Does anyone else know that you are Dean Morris? I mean, of course, your publisher must know, but does anyone else? What about your parents?” Cecil dodged around what James was asking him to do.
“As I havesaid almost every day that you have been here; it is none of your business. Now, I think it is time that you leave,” James continued.
“I am just curious, I assume Lady Andrea does not know. But oh, she loves adventures so much. Are you worried that a profession like this might mar your reputation?” Cecil asked with a devilish smile on his face.“That is why you have been writing under a different name and keeping it a secret from everyone, is it not?”
James shifted uncomfortably. If there had been one person in the entire world that he had not wanted to know this information, it was Cecil.
“I think you should leave,” James said before swallowing thickly.“I really think you do, otherwise I am going to do something that I will regret.”
“You really think you have the strength to fight me?” Cecil cocked an eyebrow and stared at his old friend.“I was stronger than you once, and for the last few years, all you have been lifting is a pen. Do you really think you could forcefully remove me?”
Cecil was standing now, and James clenched his fists.
“If I have to, then I will,” James answered carefully.“But I am hoping you will do the diplomatic thing and leave when a host has asked you to. You are, after all, a Sir now…are you not?”
“I am,” Cecil said whilst straightening up a little.“But I am not going to let you do this without taking action myself.”
“What do you mean?” James asked. His body was tense, and he was ready for anything. Though he had not been anywhere near to such danger in years, the feelings came back to him in an instant of what he should do if anything should happen. It was something that was clearly drilled in deeper than just his memory allowed, it was in his bones, in his being.
