Page 41 of A Literary Liaison
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Metropolitan Review, 15 May 1840
My Dear Miss Lovelace,
I trust you have not been pining for my correspondence during this prolonged silence. Pray, do not imagine that I have neglected our epistolary engagement. On the contrary, I have been most persistently occupied in pursuit of a more profound understanding of that most enigmatic of human experiences: love and romance.
I have taken it upon myself to consult with various luminaries in the fields of psychology, physiology, and neurology on this most intriguing subject. Furthermore, I have engaged in correspondence with authors of no small renown, seeking their insights on matters of the heart. Specifically, I had wished to know the answers to these questions:
Why is anything worthwhile so difficult to attain? How does a heart break when it cannot break? Why must pain precede healing?
I find myself most eager to learn your thoughts on these weighty matters, Miss Lovelace. Pray, do not keep me in suspense regarding your own philosophies on this most captivating of subjects.
Yours in anticipation of your wise counsel,
Aengus Steele
Back at theMetropolitan Review, Elisha set aside her completed response to Mr. Steele, her thoughts still troubled. The printing press below had fallen silent, leaving an emptiness that seemed to echo her own.
“Elisha?” Thornton’s voice made her start. He stood in the doorway, more formally dressed than usual. “Might I have a word?”
She looked up, noting the unusual tension in his bearing. “Of course.”
He closed the door behind him, an action that made Elisha’s pulse quicken with unease. He rarely sought such privacy in their discussions.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began, moving to stand before her desk, “about the future of theMetropolitan Review.”
“Oh?” She kept her voice neutral, though something in his tone made her want to retreat.
“Yes. About its potential, its growth…” He paused, studying her face. “About what it needs to truly flourish.”
“We’ve made remarkable progress already,” Elisha said carefully. “The Wordsworth evening alone has brought new subscriptions and—”
“I’m not speaking merely of business matters.” His voice softened as he moved around the desk, too close for comfort. “I’m speaking of partnerships. Of joining forces in more… permanent ways.”
Elisha’s hands trembled slightly as she gathered her papers, trying to create some task to focus on. “Mr. Thornton—”
“Steven,” he corrected gently. “Please. After all we’ve built together, surely we can dispense with formalities.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. His eyes held genuine warmth, even affection, but something else lurked beneath—a certainty that made her nervous.
“I’ve made inquiries,” he continued. “About your background,your circumstances. I wanted to be sure that any… offer I made would be appropriate and welcome.”
Her stomach dropped. “Inquiries?”
“Nothing unseemly, I assure you. Merely ensuring that there were no impediments to what I hope to propose.”
“And what exactly are you proposing?” The words came out sharper than she intended.
Steven actually smiled at her tone. “That directness—it’s one of the things I admire most about you.” He reached for her hand, but she managed to shift away under the pretense of straightening more papers.
“You’re an extraordinary woman, Elisha. Your intelligence, your dedication to our cause, your beauty… you deserve more than the life of a mere employee.”
“I am quite content with my position,” she said firmly.
“But you could have so much more.” His voice grew earnest. “Together, we could expand theReview’sinfluence tenfold. The literacy program could reach every corner of London. Your dreams of education reform could become reality.”
Each word was like a snare, making it harder to escape. He was offering everything she’d worked for, everything she believed in. The practical choice, the sensible choice, the choice that would secure her future and her causes.
