Briggs shook his head. “Not yet.”
Moving to where Ellis stood perusing the latest three-deckers, Roman followed her gaze. “See anything you want to read?”
“Nothing you don’t already have in your library and that I’ve already taken.” She gave him a sheepish look.
“That’s what I thought, but I wanted to ask anyway, in case you missed something in my library. But I should know better—you don’t miss a thing.”
“It’s wonderful to see so many books fresh and new.” She turned toward him. “What a strange thing for a marquess to be involved with. What do people think of that?”
“Mostly, they find it odd or downright awful,” he said with a smirk. “I’m in trade, you know. Utterly scandalous.”
She suppressed a smile, and he wished she wouldn’t. It was hard to see how a smile would change her face because of the fake hair she had covering it, but he imagined she was quite pretty.
“Have you always been scandalous?” she asked.
In fact, he’d been somewhat of a scoundrel before his father had died, but Roman hadn’t known about the devastation his father had wrought on their family fortune. He’d learned the extent of his father’s financial mismanagement after his death, and that had changed the course of Roman’s life forever. Desperate to avoid bankruptcy, he’d immediately set about finding an heiress as quickly as possible. He’d been unable to secure a wife from the peerage due to the reputation he’d built, so he’d settled for marrying Clarissa Lacey.
He didn’t regret it, for he enjoyed his work with Lacey and Company, and he loved her family. However, if he had it to do over again, he would have chosen differently.
That wasn’t the same as regret, was it?
“I desperately want to read A Season in Shadow after the discussion yesterday,” Ellis said. “Will I be able to now that you’re finished?”
“Certainly. I look forward to hearing what you think.”
“And what was your final opinion?” She regarded him with great interest.
Knowing the ending was perhaps “shocking,” Roman hadn’t been able to turn the pages fast enough last night. He’d been disappointed actually, for he’d expected something momentous. Then he’d remembered what Harriet had said. “I imagine there will be Society ladies who don’t care for it, but I think the controversy will ensure it finds great popularity.”
“You are in favor of publishing it then?”
“I am.” Roman hoped Harriet wouldn’t be upset. He wouldn’t know today because she didn’t come to these kinds of meetings.
Roman guided Ellis from the shop into the counting room at the back, where another clerk was recording receipts in the ledger. Charles Appleby was nearing forty and had worked for Josiah Lacey for nearly a decade. He oversaw the shop, and Briggs and lived upstairs in the top floor with his wife. Mrs. Appleby kept the shop and offices tidy.
Roman led Ellis up a narrow flight of creaky stairs to the first floor and onto a landing. He gestured toward the front of the building. “Josiah’s office is this way. That’s where we’ll be meeting.”
Motioning for Ellis to precede him into the office, Roman noted her reaction as she surveyed the room. Josiah’s office was far grander than Roman’s study. The polished oak of the wainscoting and the bookcases gleamed in the afternoon light streaming through the tall windows that looked over Paternoster Row. A seating area with dark green velvet chairs and a matching settee that easily held three or even four people was situated before the hearth. Josiah’s large French desk was situated near the windows, and there was a rectangular table with six chairs. It was usually covered with proofs and folios, but it was completely clean today, save the second copy of A Season in Shadow.
Roman inclined his head toward the windows. “There, you can see St. Paul’s again,” he whispered.
She glanced at him, and the edge of her mouth ticked up. “I do.”
He caught another glimpse of the woman behind the beard and found himself enchanted.
“Come in,” Josiah said, standing from behind the desk and breaking Roman’s trance. “We’re just awaiting Miss Brightly.”
“Is that the author’s name?” Ellis asked almost sharply.
Margot had been perched on a small chair beside the desk and also stood. “It is.” She looked toward Roman. “Keele, what is your decision about acquiring A Season in Shadow?”
Roman could see that Margot was most eager to hear his opinion. “I agree with you—if we don’t publish it, we’ll regret not doing so.”
“Then it’s settled,” Josiah said. “I plan to offer Miss Brightly one hundred and fifty pounds for the copyright.”
“That is a very attractive offer.” Roman hoped the author was open to selling the copyright. Some were not.
The sound of the stairs creaking carried to the office. Everyone’s attention darted to the doorway.
