Foreach one.
Her breath caught. That meant a single sketch was worth the same as fifty loaves of bread. That meant her family nowhadfifty loaves of bread, or the wisest equivalent purchase. Her brother would have immediately replenished their larder. Or acquired more sheep.
Her heart pounded.
On an annuity of five hundred per year, a frugal family of four could afford not only themselves, but a servant or two. Could Nora potentially earn the same sum with a hundred satirical sketches? Might their days of poverty soon be behind them?
This was life-changing.
This was madness.
This could not be.
and a request for more drawings.
None of your fashion sketches will do, but of course I sent what few caricatures I could find.
Nora’s fingersshook with sudden terror as the full ramifications gripped her.
The sketches were raw, unfiltered glimpses intotonlife. They were quick, rude, irreverent. They poked holes in High Society’s glossy veneer solely for the private amusement of the Winfield family. And Carter hadsoldthem?
Panic tightened her chest. She had not signed the sketches, but that did not mean she was safe from discovery. Or being sacked from her current position. This reckless act could jeopardize her companion salary as well as any hope for more drawings.
What had Carter done?
No more ball gowns and fancy portraits.
Draw as many caricatures as you can. The wittier, the better.
They’ll pay TRIPLE for famous people.
Triple.
No. Absolutely not.
She’d already seen what could happen when ten thousand people with nothing better to do got their hands on the same silly sketch. Overnight, the Earl of Wainwright had become the “Lord of Pleasure,” and not just in the tongue-in-cheek commentary Nora made at home, but to the entirehaut ton.
Not just the upper classes, she realized at once. Caricatures were just as popular with the have-nots as the haves. Perhaps more so. Not only were such sketches a window into a life peasants could never experience for themselves, the accompanying biting commentary offeredpower. A way to mock one’s betters, to laugh right back at the vaulted paragons who had long belittled their “lessers.”
Nora bit her lip. She could see the allure: the commercial value her art might have to a printing house, the impact the money earned could have on her family.
She could also see the danger. Carter claimed the confidential intermediary protected their identities, but for how long? Every published drawing risked the very employment opportunity that made the sketches possible. Every new caricature would be another nail in her coffin if anyone should ever learn the true identity of the artist behind the drawings.
If she were found out, she would lose everything. Her post with the baroness. Any hope of earning desperately needed money.
And yet, it was a way to help her family right now.
Thefastestway to help her family.
She leaned back in her chair. The first salary as companion would not be paid until after the first month.
In the meantime, her already overworked brother was stretched beyond all reason until she could return home to do her part. With even more money, he and both grandparents could hire a maid-of-all-work to take over Nora’s duties inside the cottage. With enough earnings, they could all sleep at night without fear of the morrow.
With enough sketches, they could free themselves from poverty.
From your brother with love,
Carter
