Page 62 of A Lady's Beloved Novelist
“Yes, it has been happening more and more frequently,” Andrea joined in. She smiled knowingly at her aunt as though they were speaking in a language that only the two of them could understand. “Well, I look forward to opening it, but I must say I am feeling rather tired. Would you mind if I take my leave and rest upstairs?”
“Of course, I only came to give this to you, I did not intend to stay for tea. I am not sure your mother and father could stomach another meeting with me so soon,” her aunt said, chuckling to herself.
“It must be said that I had an excellent time at dinner the other evening,” Andrea said, a smile of amusement playing on her lips. “There is something so freeing and funny to me when one is able to get to the truth without having to lie about anything. Sometimes, the simplest thing to do is just ask a question.”
Bella smiled down at her niece. It was the mischievous look in her eyes that had been there when she was sat across the table from her.
“It sounds as though you are finally learning a thing or two.”
Andrea took the parcel with her before showing her aunt out of the main entrance to Sudeley House. They exchanged pleasantries all the way until the door closed behind her. Andrea then quickly made her way up the carpeted staircase, praying that her skirts were not going to catch under her shoes. She was holding onto the bulky parcel with both hands, and so if she were to fall there was nothing she would be able to use to break her fall.
She could not get to her room soon enough. Closing the door behind her felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. It was the privacy that she had been craving. Without wasting a moment, Andrea was quick to tear into the wrapping paper and reveal the sheets of paper within. A small note was enclosed on top of the tied-up papers, and it was addressed to her.
She could feel her heart rate picking up, it was the next letter. This was what she had been needing. It still felt scandalous that they were having to communicate with one another in such a way, especially when James was only a short walk away from the house. It felt as though he lived a thousand miles from her and all she could get from him were the occasional letter.
My dearest Andrea,
Please find enclosed within these pages the next story that will soon be published under the name of Dean Morris. I know that I promised you a published book but think of this as more of an advance copy. These things take time, and I wanted you to be the first person to read this manuscript because I feel that it will clear up a few of your doubts.
I have also included some evidence of correspondence between myself and Regent Books, my long-trusted publishing partner. I hope that all of this will be enough to shed some light on what I have been through and why you cannot trust a word that Cecil says.
Whilst I must confess that it is a rather terrifying notion to consider that you are going to feast your very expectant eyes on my newest work for the first time, I also know that there is nobody I would rather have the honour than you.
I hope to see you soon.
Yours, always,
DeanJames
Andrea could feel herself smiling as she read over his message. She felt like the first person to witness a new masterpiece, and that truly was an honour as he had said. The story was thick, the pages had been neatly stacked and tied together for ease of transport.
Andrea slowly pulled at the rough piece of string, letting it loosen before it slunk away from the pages completely. The stack of pages appeared as though it relaxed as she took the string away, like a sprouting stem becoming untied from a supporting stick because it had outgrown it.
Despite being the only person in her large bedroom, Andrea still felt scared that someone was going to discover this.
It was going to be difficult to hide, and so she quickly set about picking up the first sheet of paper so that she could begin reading it. She was thankful that the afternoon lay empty of any duties before her.
She had all the time she needed to get stuck into the next novel. Being re-acquainted with Francis Griffith was going to be rather strange now that she had an idea of who was behind the character.
Chapter 27
The introduction of the hero’s sidekick was what Andrea had found the most interesting. Francis had been joined on this adventure by none other than Benjamin Carey, a man whom he shared history with, and a man that he did not want back in his life. Benjamin had been his assistant in the past, and it had led to so much going wrong.
Francis was different in this book; he was forced to be a lot more serious because of the situations that presented themselves around him. It was evident that he was angry with Benjamin for his unreliable nature, but his former assistant seemed rather adamant that he had changed.
But it was clear almost immediately that this had also turned out to be another of his lies. Benjamin was claiming Francis’ accomplishments as his own. As a fan of Francis herself, Andrea found this incredibly vexing, especially when Benjamin would reference things that had happened in other books.
She knew the truth because she had read them all countless times. There was no reference to his involvement, and so she quickly became infuriated with the character.
Rightly so, Francis was clearly just as angry. He was vexed that people were actually listening to Benjamin and giving him the credit that he did not deserve. People were willing to give him another chance despite his current reputation. Andrea did not think that was fair at all, especially after she had seen how Benjamin had pushed himself back into Francis’ life in such an unannounced manner.
She was not sure at what moment she realised that whilst some of this was still based in the jungle and a long way from home, many of the events were actually recent history. Andrea was beginning to understand what had really transpired between the two of them, but it was the duel between them that finally solidified to her something that she felt she had already known.
Francis, frustrated with the fact that there were mounting supporters of Benjamin’s claims, challenged him to a duel. Andrea was in agreement with this, she knew that it was the gentlemen’s way of sorting out issues.
These were two men who had already seen so much of the world and—according to their stories—had fought bravely against many men before. In theory, a duel between themselves was almost inevitable.
But Benjamin was scared. Andrea could not help but admire the writing, it detailed the shake of the man’s hand, the sweat on his brow, the manic speech. They were slight details, but they were familiar to her. He was acting in a way that she recognized all too well.
