Page 5 of A Literary Liaison
Smoothing the now-crumpled letter, she read it aloud to her friend, her tone growing increasingly sour with each line. “‘Positively quivering with anticipation’? Heavens, the man writes as though he’spenning a letter to his mistress rather than engaging in literary discourse.”
Amelia’s lips twitched as she said, “He does have a certain charm.”
“Charm?” Elisha scoffed, tossing the letter onto her desk. “The only thing more inflated than his prose is his ego.” She dropped into her chair and yanked a fresh sheet of paper toward her. “Very well, Mr. Steele, if you wish to dance…”
Her quill flew across the page with practiced efficiency. Once she signed her name with a flourish, Elisha sat back, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. “There. Let him chew on that for a while.”
Amelia limped more than usual across their shared office, her injury acting up as it often did after long days at work and peered over her shoulder at the response. “Oh dear. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of this ending peacefully?”
“Ending peacefully?” Elisha’s lips thinned with determination. “My dear, I do believe this is merely the opening deluge.”
Amelia spoke hesitantly, glancing at her friend. “I believe I shall publish Mr. Steele’s letter.”
Elisha’s head snapped up. “For what purpose?”
“Your critique of Mr. Steele’s novel seems to have captured the public’s imagination. We have experienced a marked increase in new subscriptions accompanied by praises of your review. To capitalize on this, I propose we share his response to it, and you begin, hopefully, a regular correspondence with him.”
“Are you suggesting we manufacture drama to gain notoriety?”
“It need not reflect poorly on us. It could be viewed as a friendly exchange of wit.”
“Amelia, you are well aware of my position on this matter. I steadfastly refuse to engage with authors, lest I find myself inundated with missives from writers who take issue with my critiques.”
“Indeed, I am cognizant of your stance. However, we have not generated such interest in some time. And…” Amelia fidgeted with the ribbon adorning her gown, winding and unwinding it about her finger.
“Amelia, what troubles you?” Elisha rose and approached her friend. “What has transpired?”
Large brown eyes met hers, and Elisha was relieved to find them free of tears.
“Steven has altered the terms of our remuneration to a percentage based on the net profit. At our current rate, we lack sufficient funds to sustain ourselves. I may be compelled to return to lodgings here with you.”
Elisha clasped her friend’s hands, roughened from years of handling parchment.
“I am most grieved to learn of your half-brother’s unconscionable behavior. I can well imagine how greatly this must distress you. When did this transpire?”
“He called on me at my residence yesterday,” Amelia replied, raising her eyes. “He declared our publishing house insufficiently profitable. Should we fail to increase our profits by ten percent each month, he threatens to shutter the establishment.”
“Surely he cannot do such a thing!”
“I fear he can, and indeed he shall. He is, after all, the proprietor,” Amelia said, her voice quavering. “Oh, Elisha, I am ashamed to admit it, but at times I find myself positively… disliking him. He is a kind brother but a ruthless businessman.”
“Any person of sound mind would be averse to him at least a little. I believed he was residing in India.”
“He was, but he contracted malaria. He has returned to recuperate. He plans to take a more active role in the gazette.” Amelia looked down at her hands, fidgeting with a kerchief.
Elisha’s stomach sank at the possible implications but dared not show it. “Do not despair, Amelia. We shall devise a means to increase our profits. In the interim, do you truly intend to return to lodgings here in the attic?”
Amelia shook her head. “Not immediately, but perhaps if our circumstances do not improve by next month.”
“I shall not allow that to come to pass. You have only just secured your own house. We shall manage, I assure you. I shall compose a new, most scandalous letter to Mr. Steele.”
Amelia looked up then, her countenance displaying sorrow and relief.
“I am deeply sorry, Elisha. I know how greatly you value your literary freedom and integrity.”
Elisha smiled for her friend’s sake. “It is but a small sacrifice. I only pray that it shall not transform our esteemed publication into a mere scandal sheet. We must strive to maintain the hard-earned respect we have garnered in literary circles. However, we must eat before we can fight a battle as big as that.”
*
