Page 24 of A Literary Liaison
Rather than me retiring my pen, how about you pick up your quill and do more than smear good authors’ work?
Since you profess to understand the deepest romantic love, why not show us by creating the experience? Share your passion with the world through your words. Author a short romantic tale of your own within the span of five months.
To add a measure of intrigue to our undertaking, I suggest a wager of considerable stakes. Should your short novel, published under a nom de plume of your choosing, garner more favorable reviews than my own (which shall also be published under a new pseudonym), I pledge to publicly acknowledge your superior understanding of the genre and make a substantial donation to a charitable organization of your selection.
Conversely, should your work fail to captivate the reading public,you must abstain from critiquing romantic literature for a full year. Furthermore, you shall be obliged to pen a glowing review of my next novel, to be published in your esteemed gazette. The victor of this challenge shall be revealed on New Year’s Eve of this year.
What say you, Miss Lovelace? Are you prepared to subject your considerable talents to such a test? Or do you prefer the relative safety of your critic’s perch, from whence you may hurl barbs at those who dare to create?
I remain your most intrigued servant,
Aengus Steele
Her mind raced with possibilities. Write a romance novel? The audacity of the man! And yet… what an opportunity to prove her understanding of true passion wasn’t merely theoretical.
Lost in thought, she pushed open the gazette’s office door—and stopped dead. Mr. Thornton was seated at her desk, his elegant fingers rifling through her papers with casual authority.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, her voice sharp with barely contained alarm. “Those documents are works in progress.”
He looked up, and Elisha felt her breath catch. She had seen Steven Thornton before, of course, but never in the stark morning light that streamed through the windows. His eyes were a deep, rich brown, like polished mahogany in shadow, set above proud cheekbones that belied his merchant roots. But it was the intensity of his gaze that held her—the way he seemed to look straight through her carefully constructed facade.
“Miss Linde.” He rose smoothly, and she noticed how he seemed to fill the small office with his presence. “Forgive my presumption. I find I learn more about people from their absence than presence.”
“And what have you learned from invading my privacy, Mr. Thornton?” She moved to her desk, suppressing her ire and roughly gathering her papers.
His lips curved slightly. “Hardly private when they’re the propertiesof theMetropolitan.” He gestured to the letter she still held. “New correspondence?”
“From a reader,” she said, tucking it away. “Nothing of consequence.”
“I doubt anything you deem worth reading is inconsequential.” He stepped closer, and Elisha fought the urge to retreat. “Tell me, Miss Linde, how do you find working here? Is there anything you need?”
The last word carried an undertone that made her pulse quicken—whether with warning or anticipation, she wasn’t quite sure.
Schooling her features into a smile, she met his gaze directly. “Actually, Mr. Thornton, Amelia and I believe expanding our coverage to include political literature and policy changes could serve our readers well.”
Delight flickered in his eyes. “Indeed? I made rather useful connections in India. Political circles that could benefit from a sharp mind and sharper pen.” He paused, studying her. “Would you be interested in accompanying me to some of these gatherings? Your perspective could prove invaluable.”
The offer dangled before her like a key to a locked door. But before she could respond, he added, “Of course, such expanded duties would warrant a corresponding increase in compensation.”
Elisha’s eyes narrowed slyly as she ventured, “What are you offering, Mr. Thornton?”
His face brightened with a startled smile. “I’m offering to double your wage, Miss Linde. Your talent is precisely what has made theMetropolitana success.”
Despite her shock, Elisha was emboldened by his generosity. “Then might I suggest Amelia deserves the same consideration? She works twice as hard as any of us.”
A look of tender amusement crossed his features. “My sister’s raise was approved this morning.”
“Oh.” Elisha felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “That isvery generous of you. I hope I didn’t offend you with the presumption.”
“Not at all.” His eyes lingered on her face with unmistakable fondness. “Your loyalty to Amelia is one of your most admirable qualities.”
As he turned to leave with a graceful bow, Elisha found herself watching him go with a slight unease settling in her chest.
“I look forward to working closely with you, Miss Linde,” he said from the doorway. “I think we’re going to do great things together.”
Later that evening, the printing presses had fallen silent, their day’s work complete, but the gazette’s office still hummed with nervous energy. Elisha found Amelia at her desk who was grimacing as she massaged her own shoulders. The day had been a parade of disgruntled advertisers until Thornton had swept in, wielding charm and solutions with equal measure. His facility at smoothing ruffled feathers had been almost unsettling to watch.
“He’s rather good at that, isn’t he?” Elisha said, gently moving Amelia’s hands aside to take over the massage. “Your brother, I mean. Like watching a master fencer at work.”
