She tried not to let her disappointment show, but didn’t have the energy to straighten herself. “Why has he not mentioned it to me? Why didyounot mention it?”
Lillian shrugged and pulled a wrapped loaf of bread from the basket. “I wasn’t sure that you’d want to hear about it, and you told him that he was a pox on society.”
She had said that. She’d been cruel and condescending, and yet he’d still spent hours helping her.Ugh.He was a better person than she’d wanted him to be. Just the fact that he’d asked Lillian to keep it a secret proved that he wasn’t helping others for Eleanor’s approval, either.
Eleanor shook her head to clear her thoughts and returned her focus to her friend. “How did this become police work?”
Lillian grimaced. “Also the duke, I’m afraid. Though I don’t know if the interview he set up with the commissioner was aboveboard or bribery.”
Something warm and comforting settled in her stomach. It felt almost like certainty. She’d struggled to work out who he was and what his motivations were for months, and now she knew. He was a good man making choices because they were the right things to do.
Did it matter if he’d bribed the commissioner? Lillian had been obsessed with solving crimes for as long as they had been friends. Working for the police was a dream come true for her, and Peter had made it happen.
Her heart twisted, and she leaned across the basket to awkwardly hug her friend. “I am happy for you.”
Lillian squeezed her back. “Thank you. I am happy too. Now we must focus on you.” She broke free of the hug and took Eleanor’s face in her hands, just as Mabel plopped onto the blanket.
“What did I miss?” Mabel asked. “The two of you look rather serious considering that it is a beautiful day and there is a man selling fresh lemonade just up the hill.” She held up a bottle.
Lillian took it and retrieved a corkscrew from the basket. Eleanor pulled out three glasses. “Lillian is working for the police force, apparently.”
Mabel looked guilty.
“Youknew!”
Mabel huffed, taking a glass from Eleanor and the bottle from Lillian. By pouring the drinks she avoided Eleanor’soutraged stare. “We do share a room. It would be strange if I did not know. But at least now weallknow and there are no more secrets between us.” She held out the lemonade as a peace offering.
But Eleanor did have a secret. Not that it was a real secret. She hadn’t hidden her growing relationship with Peter. She simply hadn’t seen her friends in order to tell them.
Lillian accepted a glass and lifted it in Eleanor’s direction. “I was just telling Eleanor that we must focus on the future. You and I have settled into new work now. It is time for her. There must be no more wallowing.” She pinned Eleanor with a demanding stare. “What do you plan to do with your life?”
In an effort to hide her nerves, Eleanor scrunched and released her toes twice. They would notice any other physical manifestation of her worry, and then she’d face questioning on two fronts—details of her plan and why she was afraid to tell them.
Truthfully, she was afraid because her idea might not pan out. If she revealed nothing, then she’d never have to embarrass herself by telling them she’d failed.
But she’d been kept in the dark about Lillian’s plans for only a week and it had stung. Hiding such a huge endeavor would be an egregious betrayal. Besides, she had to commit to this newfound faith that if she failed, those she loved would not turn their back on her.
She took a deep and steadying breath. “Actually, I have the beginnings of a plan. It is not fully formed and I have no idea how to bring it to fruition, but the thought of it brings me joy.” She reached into the basket and pulled out a package wrapped in newspaper. “Here.” She handed it to Mabel, who tore it open.
“Oh, Eleanor. This is beautiful.” She ran her hands over the sky-blue silk that Eleanor had glued to the cover ofEmma. Rose-colored lace covered each of the corners.
“Imagine the title is embossed and leafed in real gold.” She’d not had gold leaf tucked away in her trunks, so the gold lamé yoke she’d unpicked from an ill-fitting dress stood in place of it. “There are artists out there who can paint the edges so that the image shifts as the paper bends.”
Lillian took the book from Mabel. “Eleanor, is this the dress you wore to Josephine’s Christmas party three years ago?”
“It was. It’s not anymore.” There had been some guilt as she took scissors to her favorite dresses. Another woman could have worn them and felt beautiful, but by repurposing them this way, she could take her beloved rainbow with her. She could picture it now—her books turned into artworks. Her shelves organized by color. Who cared how long it would take to find a specific novel when the rest of the time it would be so lovely to look at?
“Ineedyou to tell us more about this plan,” Mabel said, snatching the book back from Lillian and turning it over and over.
Nervousness became excitement. If complete strangers reacted like Mabel, then maybe her plan might succeed. “Iamgoing to start my own publishing company. It just won’t be like anyone else’s.” It would be an homage to a lost art. Everything would be handmade; every step would use methods from before the invention of the rotary press. She could pick up old machinery for a song and employ true artisans.
“Can you make money from it?” Mabel asked, chewing on her lip. “It is a lovely idea, but the world is changing. You will be vying with books that cost only a penny.”
That was the unknown variable.Shewould buy such editions. Her crafting method would add value. Charly would sell them in his store. But how much would other people spend, and would it be enough?
“There are still some questions that need answering. I will talk to Lady Wharton this evening. If I were to have customers, it would be people like her. Her thoughts will tell me if it’s viable. And I would need to find the money.” She needed an investor. This was not something she could do on her own. Not yet.
Mabel reached into her purse. “Perhaps this will help.” She handed Eleanor and Lillian each an envelope. “Mr. Bell asked me to pass these on to you. They are severance checks.”
