1
London, August 1817
Brody Evans, Duke of Corwin, raised a celebratory glass of champagne. The atmosphere in his parlor was distinctly more buoyant today than it had been a few weeks earlier.
“A toast,” he said, addressing his closest friends, Anthony Gibbs, the Duke of Westcliffe, and Callum Davis, the Duke of Stratton, as well as Anthony’s new wife, Ada. “Congratulations, you two, on your recent marriage. And congratulations to us all for completing our novel.”
“I still can’t believe we got it done,” Callum said after echoing Brody’s congratulatory words regarding the wedding. He glanced at the thick stack of papers. Neatly assembled and tied with string, they’d been placed on a side table.
“All you need to do now is get it published,” Ada said. She leaned toward Anthony and placed a tender kiss to his cheek. “I’m so incredibly proud of you. Of all of you. This is such a tremendous achievement, and the story is simply marvelous. I cannot wait for it to be released to the world.”
Neither could Brody. Since coming to terms with his financial woes and discovering Anthony and Callum were in similar straits, they’d devised a solution together.
The idea to write a book had sprung to life when Anthony had entered the bookshop owned by Ada’s uncle and discovered Ada shelving books. The pair had fallen into conversation with each other, and later into love. But the impact of their meeting on all three men was undeniable.
It had tested their creativity, resulting in a finished product they could be proud of. The hope was for the novel to sell well and make a decent profit – enough for them all to return to a state of financial security. Of course, other things had to be done as well. The book was not enough, considering the length of the process from idea to publication.
Anthony had already sold a couple of horses and some art work, his pianoforte, and a few other items in order to pay the servants and help support his wife and sisters. According to what he’d said earlier, a collection of Chinese vases were next on his list of things to get rid of.
Brody intended to follow suit. He could not blame all his financial woes on his younger brother, Finnegan, whose weakness for card play remained a problem. Brody knew he’d made his own mistakes too. Like Anthony and Callum, he’d squandered most of his fortune by trying to buy some happiness after his father’s untimely death.
It hadn’t worked.
If anything, it had only made matters worse, and now he realized how stupid he’d been. Granted, it did make it harder for him to admonish Finnegan for his reckless behavior, but the time had come for them both to be more responsible.
“I’ve made a list of prospective publishers,” Anthony said. He set his glass aside and reached inside his jacket pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. “Considering the genre we’ve chosen, I thought we might approach Thomas Egerton and John Murray. Both published Miss Austen’s novels, so I’m hopeful they will be willing to publish ours as well.”
“Agreed,” Brody said. When Anthony had initially suggested to him and Callum that they not only write a novel but that it should be a romance, he’d instinctively protested. But Anthony’s reasoning had been sound. With Austen’s recent death, there would be a gap in the market. Attempting to fill it and finding success would be easier than competing against the likes of Sir Walter Scott.
“Shall we pay them a visit tomorrow?” Callum asked.
Anthony nodded. “The sooner the better, I’d say.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Brody asked. When everyone turned to him, he said, “Since none of us wants our name attached to this work, maybe Ada would be so kind as to represent us.”
“As an agent of sorts?” she asked, tilting her head in question.
“I was thinking of you becoming the face of the author,” Brody said. “It’s simpler if the publisher thinks there’s only one person to deal with instead of three. Plus, a woman would capture the essence of Miss Austen much better than three men. As such, the publisher might be more inclined to offer a deal.”
“He makes a good point,” Anthony said. “What do you think, Ada?”
“I suppose I could do it.” Ada creased her brow for a moment. “I certainly don’t mind as long as you’re all in agreement, and you don’t mind me taking the credit in public.”
“Since public association with the novel is something we’d all like to avoid,” Callum said, “I have no issue with this idea.”
“Excellent.” Brody grabbed the bottle of Veuve Clicquot and refilled all their glasses. “Another toast then, to the speedy success ofA Seductive Scandal.”
They clinked their glasses together and drank.
“I’ll take this with me then,” Ada said when she and Anthony were ready to leave. She collected the manuscript and hugged it against her breast as though it were the most precious thing in the world. “Anthony will send a note tomorrow evening to let you know how my meetings went. Hopefully, he’ll have some good news to share.”
Brody and Callum both thanked her.
“Do you think this endeavor will be as profitable as they expect?” Callum asked once Ada and Anthony had departed. He stood in Brody’s foyer, preparing to head out as well.
Hands in pockets, Brody shrugged. “Let’s hope so.”
Callum took the hat and gloves Brody’s butler, Rhys, handed him and waited until the man was gone before saying, “I’ve put most of the furniture at my country estate up for auction.”
