Candice Hern (15 page)

Oh, yes, the editor was most excessively happy.

“W
ell, what do you think, Pru?”

She turned to Nick, who sat beside her as they bounced along the road back to Golden Square in a hackney coach. Her blue eyes shone with excitement.

“Oh, it’s simply wonderful,” she said. “It feels more like a professional publication, now that it has its own of?ces. Don’t you think so?”

They had spent the entire day moving boxes full of books and papers from the house to the new magazine of?ces. Bartholomew had had the rooms thoroughly cleaned, and a crew of laborers was on hand to move furniture about or install more shelving. His father had done everything possible to make the move easy and painless, and Nick was grateful.

He had to admit that at first he’d been skeptical. Coming so soon after the unpleasant confrontation with Pru over moving out of the house, his father’s offer had seemed almost too coincidental. Nick’s first thought was that the whole thing had been Pru’s idea: that they—or she—buy a house of their own, and also arrange to have the magazine business moved elsewhere. All because of some misguided notion that his father wanted the house to himself.

It had not taken long to realize he’d been wrong. Pru’s initial panic that his father somehow meant to take the business away, and then her controlled but obvious delight at the prospect of moving into real offices, had convinced him she had nothing to do with it.

Nick had also experienced a momentary niggling concern that moving the business was not perhaps a good idea. With the exception of that afternoon, working together on the magazine was the only time he and Pru seemed entirely at ease together. He had wondered if removing that comfortable haven would put a further strain on their marriage. But a moment’s reflection convinced him that it was, instead, a brilliant idea. Keeping home life and business life separate might be just what they needed to forge a new level of intimacy.

“Yes, it does seem more like a real business now,” he said. “I hope Edwina won’t return from the continent and discover she cannot find where anything is.” Pru and Nick had spent most of the afternoon going through boxes and organizing
files. “She is so disgustingly organized, you know.”

Pru gave a little chuckle. “Yes, I do know. That is why I was so careful to keep things in order. Just a bit more spread out. Oh, I cannot wait to get started! It will be so good to have enough room to line up a whole set of page proofs on a large worktable, rather than reviewing them in bits and pieces. And a whole room set aside for the Ladies. And a private office for meeting with advertisers and such. Oh, Nicholas, it is all so wonderful. How very kind of your father to procure the lease for us. And to pay the first year in advance. With the increased circulation and new advertising, we have more than enough to cover the rent after that.”

Nick nodded in agreement. He loved it when Pru forgot to be shy and burst into these little explosions of words. She was so quiet most of the time that it was a delight to hear her chatter.

And to watch the excitement light her face. She positively glowed with it. Nick marveled at how pretty she looked, with those big blue eyes and radiant smile. He could not tear his eyes away, and still marveled that he had ever thought her mousy and dull. What a fool he’d been.

Her eyes were his favorite feature. As clear a blue as summer skies, and framed in lashes that were thick and curled, but very pale. Most fashionable women would have darkened such fair lashes, but Nick was glad Pru had never done so. Somehow her eyes appeared bluer and bigger with that surround of pale apricot fringe.

Or perhaps it was her hair he liked best. It was so beautifully wild. Even now an apricot tendril curled frivolously against her cheek. The fact that is was not artfully done but quite natural made it even more intriguing. Lord, but he could not wait to see it loose and falling about her shoulders.

He thought, too, about how she looked when she played, when she seemed to forget about everything and everybody. It wasn’t so much her prettiness that struck him then, but the physical signs of the passion she felt for the music. Her facial expressions ran the gamut from dreamy to pained, her body swayed and tensed, moving into the music as though making love to the instrument.

He had once feared Pru would be too shy to express any physical passion, assuming they ever took their marriage that far. But Nick no longer worried about that. Pru was a woman of passion, even if she did not realize it. He hoped one day to release that sense of abandon between the sheets.

If he could ever be sure he wouldn’t frighten her to death.

He had not yet tried to kiss her again. He could not forget that sweet little salute and the wide-eyed look of terror on her face afterward. But he had begun touching her more often, and he noticed she had not flinched or stiffened quite so much when he did.

It gave him hope. But he knew he must still move slowly. In the meantime, he had been working out his frustrated desires with increased phys
ical activity. He’d taken to fencing at Angelo’s Academy several times a week. It helped, but it wasn’t the cure he needed.

He suddenly realized she’d been talking and he hadn’t heard a word. “I’m sorry, my dear, I was woolgathering. What was that you were saying?”

She flashed an indulgent smile. “I said we will need to send out notices to all our vendors and advertisers, alerting them to our new direction. I must start writing them out first thing tomorrow.”

“Why not have Imber print up an announcement? That would certainly save you a great deal of time.”

“Oh, what a good idea. Another sign of how professional we have become. Isn’t it marvelous that Imber is only a few doors away now? I shall pop round to see him in the morning.”

Nick happened at that moment to look out the window on Pru’s side of the carriage, and saw a pair of unpleasant-looking characters fighting over a jug, then one of them sank laughing into the gutter. He realized how close they were to the worst rookeries in London.

He turned to Pru and reached for her hand. “My dear, you must promise me something.”

She looked down at their joined fingers but did not pull away. It was a good sign. She was becoming accustomed to his touch.

“Yes?”

“You must never leave the offices alone at night or in the late afternoon. If I am not there with you, then you must let me know when you would like
to be fetched, and I will bring a hackney. I don’t want you out alone in these neighborhoods. It’s not safe.”

“Oh.” She looked out the window, where by now there was nothing more to be seen than ordinary people out and about on ordinary business. She turned to Nick, a quizzical look on her face.

He squeezed her hand. “Promise me, Pru. The streets closer to the offices border on some rather unsavory areas. And you practically skirt the rookeries on the way back home. It’s not safe for a woman alone.”

“But you would have to drive all this way to fetch me,” she said. “It seems like a great deal of bother.”

“It is no trouble at all. I am happy to do it. I want you to be safe, my dear. We’ll simply agree on a time for me to come by the offices, and if you aren’t quite finished for the day, I will wait until you are. All right?”

“All right. I had not considered it, but I suppose we will be spending a great deal more than usual on hackney fares.”

Nick winced. Just because he could not afford to buy a house did not mean he was a complete pauper. Lord, but he could not wait for the
Ulysses
to come in with, quite literally, a boatload of profit. It was slightly overdue, but not enough to be a concern. He promised himself that when it did come in, he was not going to send every penny up to the Derby project. He was going to buy something nice for Pru. He stroked her long,
soft fingers and came up against his signet ring with its wrapping of ribbon. When the
Ulysses
came in, perhaps he would buy her a proper wedding ring.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

Flora looked about her as she stood in the part of the office that had been screened off into a small reception area. Pru had even brought in a few plants to make it seem more inviting.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“I do. It’s quite clubby, isn’t it? Very comfortable, my dear.”

“There is a small office for you, Flora.”

“For me?

“Yes, of course. The fashion editor needs her own space, don’t you think? Come, let me show you.”

It was little more than a cubbyhole with a desk, but Flora beamed. “Oh, it is positively cunning! I shall pin fashion plates all along the walls. What fun we shall have! I
knew
this would be a good idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“Moving the offices here. I knew it would be the perfect wedding gift.”

“Flora? What are you saying? Did you have something to do with all this?”

“Well, of course, my dear. Didn’t Bartholomew tell you? No, I suppose he wouldn’t. It was my idea, ducky.” She leaned close to Pru and whis
pered in her ear. “I thought you and that handsome husband of yours needed to have the house to yourselves. Or at least you will when Bartholomew leaves.”

“Flora? You talked him into doing this?”

“Well, to be quite frank, I just put a little bug in his ear and let it buzz around a bit. In the end, it was all his doing.”

“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was, I am grateful. The business has grown so that it had taken over the entire ground floor of the town house.”

“Yes, which made you little better than a shopkeeper.”

Pru narrowed her eyes. “That’s exactly what Bartholomew said.”

“I’m sure he did.”

“Flora? When has all this scheming taken place? Have you and Bartholomew been—”

“He is a charming man, is he not? And quite as handsome as his son.”

“Flora?”

“Look to your own business, Pru. I am doing quite well on my own.”

Pru’s cheeks flushed. Apparently she had guessed correctly. Flora and Bartholomew
were
involved. How extraordinary. She wondered what Nicholas would think. He seemed not to believe it was possible. But why not? They were both attractive, unattached adults. So long as they were discreet, what should it matter?

“Stop thinking about it, Pru. You’re putting
wrinkles in your brow, and that will not do. Show me around instead. Let me see what you’ve done.”

And so Pru gave her a brief tour. There were four small private offices: one for Edwina, with all the editorial files and account books; one for Pru, with all the subscription files and advertising contracts; one for Flora, with all her fashion files; and one that could be used by Nicholas, or Simon Westover, or any other contributor who might need a place to work, or as a private office for meeting with advertisers and vendors. And there were two workrooms, each fitted with several large tables. One would be for the hand-coloring and the Crimson Ladies. The other would be for putting together mock-ups and reviewing page proofs and any other work that needed a large space. There was even a tiny kitchen area near the back, so they could at least make a pot of tea whenever they wanted. It was all quite compact but sensibly and efficiently arranged. Pru could not wait for Edwina’s return. She would be astonished.

Flora was suitably impressed with how quickly everything had been installed, and approved of the general layout.

“I especially like your little reception area,” she said, “with all the framed mastheads and fashion plates in the window. An inspired choice of decor.”

“They were all hung in Edwina’s office back at the house,” Pru said.

“Yes, and lost among the clutter. Here, they
stand out and showcase what is accomplished inside. The other publishers on the street will be green with envy. Well done, my girl.”

Pru smiled. “Thank you, Flora. And you might be pleased to know that I have asked Madge to expand her role. Starting tomorrow, she will be installed behind a small desk in the reception area and will be charged with determining the business of anyone who enters.”

“She will be your entry clerk?”

“More or less.”

Flora frowned. “My girl, are you sure that is wise? Most businesses use a young man for that role. And Madge is still somewhat…colorful.”

“She has learned to read and write, and is working hard to make a better life for herself. She can direct visitors to the right office just as well as any man, Flora.”

“Touché, Prudence. Edwina will certainly approve.” She flashed a wicked grin. “I do believe you ladies will cause a stir in St. Paul’s Churchyard.”

They went into Pru’s office together. Just as at the house on Golden Square, Flora took the chair opposite the desk and made herself at home. Even though she now had her own tiny office, Pru suspected she would nevertheless continue to spend much of her time in Pru’s office. If truth be told, however, they seldom discussed business when they sat together. The conversation was more often of a personal nature. From the look in Flora’s eye, this time would be no different.

“And so, how are you, my girl? How are things progressing?”

Pru did not pretend to misunderstand. “I think I need a few more lessons.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not very good at this, Flora.”

“Nonsense. You just need more practice. But let’s try something easy.” She pulled a fan out of her reticule and snapped it open. “It is time you learned the language of fans.”

“La! What a crush.”

Nick slanted a glance at Pru, just to make sure it was actually his wife on his arm and not some stranger. She’d been acting a bit oddish ever since they’d arrived at her cousin’s rout party. Nothing he could put his finger on. Just the occasional word or expression he would never have expected from her.

He wondered if she was nervous, though he could not imagine why she should be. She was well acquainted with their hosts, Lord and Lady Russell. The viscountess was the daughter of Pru’s uncle, Lord Phillip Armitage, and had been friendly enough when she’d greeted them. A touch too vociferous, but so were all Pru’s relatives. And of course, the place was full of them. Nick could spot them now, even without an introduction. Tall, blond, and loud, and with some variation of what he’d come to recognize as the Armitage nose. A few of the uncles had prodigious honkers, and some of the women had perfect little
noses with only the merest hint of aquilinity. The rest, like Pru, fell somewhere in between. But there was a similarity quite obvious when so many family members were gathered together.