I took a healthy sip.
“It’s unnecessary for you to keep repeating that,” he replied.
I stopped drinking and my gaze shot to him at his curt words.
“I do believe our conversation will be simple and straightforward,” he went on. “Our solicitors have been belaboring this, but I’m certain you and I can come to an understanding.”
I wasn’t certain of the same thing.
“I’ve read your work, at least the historicals,” he informed me.
And goodness, that got another tingle that was both fear and excitement, knowing this man had spent time with my babies.
The fear was because I hoped he liked them.
The excitement was just that he’d read them, my words to his eyes.
For me, this was like this magnificent man had spent hours with me.
He continued talking. “You have a flair for the dramatic, which obviously makes these books marketable, but a bent toward historical accuracy.”
Well, if that didn’t deflate my balloon, primarily the cold way he laid it on me.
“This is rather the point of a book written in the historical fiction genre,” I pointed out.
“However, as my family’s history is what you’ll be writing about next, I don’t think my demands are that far-fetched,” he stated like I didn’t speak.
Oh yes.
This was what our solicitors had been “belaboring.”
This is your host. Keep your cool, Vivi, keep your cool.
I took another sip of water then set it down and turned fully toward the duke.
I then took a moment to let my retinas recover from looking at the man full face.
Only then did I share, “As you’re not a writer, I can understand how you might feel that way. What I need for you to understand is that what you’re requesting is categorically not something any writer can abide.”
“And if you were to have a book written about you, would you not request to have final approval of what’s published?”
I shrugged. “To be honest, unless it was something libelous, I wouldn’t have any choice. However, the only choice I’d have was after publication, suing if it was libelous, but the book would still already have been published.”
“As we don’t have a choice,” he agreed. “Although it would be difficult for you to write with your exacting precision if you don’t have access to my family’s papers.”
Mm-hm.
This was exactly what our solicitors had been “belaboring.”
“I do believe it’s been communicated to you that this book is not going to be about any living Talyn. In other words, it won’t be about you at all.”
“Any Talyn, living or dead, is mine to protect,” he returned.
“All right, if you’re worried about Prudence’s idea of a curse?—”
He threw both hands out to his sides. “There is no curse. Prue has always had an overactive imagination.”
I got the sense Chastity didn’t dismiss the whole curse thing.
