“True,” Anthony drawled. He glanced at Brody while tapping his thumb against the side of his glass. “Brody?”
Brody, Callum had noted, had gone slightly pale. He stared at Callum. “You haven’t mentioned the book we’ve written to Emily.”
“That’s what I said.” He couldn’t figure out why they both looked slightly horrified all of a sudden.
“It would probably be wise of you to do so,” Anthony murmured. “Immediately, if not sooner.”
“And I will. I just don’t see the rush.” Callum glanced at each of his friends in turn. “My having written a book is not a terrible thing, even if it is a romance. It’s hardly going to have a negative impact on our marriage. If anything, it will improve upon it by securing an income. Besides, when I told Emily I like to write as a hobby she showed a keen interest. She even asked if I’d thought about publishing. Surely that means she’d be supportive.”
“Callum.” Brody shifted his weight on the sofa and leaned forward, his forearms resting upon his thighs as he met Callum’s gaze directly. “You wrote the middle of the story.”
“I am aware,” Callum said with a scowl. “What of it?”
“Have you completely forgotten how you wrote one of the hero’s friends?”
Callum opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again. A queasy sensation took root in his stomach. He gripped the armrest and swallowed. “Like a lovesick fool whose nerves kept getting the best of him whenever he met Miss Emelia Parker.”
“And Emelia?” Anthony quietly asked.
It was getting increasingly hard to breathe. Callum tugged at this cravat. Hell, even the name he’d used was strikingly close to Emily. How could he have dismissed that?
He forced himself to answer the question. “Like an unforgiving shrew who doesn’t deserve Mr. Dalton’s affection.”
“If I recall, they were described as always stumbling into each other,” Brody said, his expression grim. “Much like you’ve just described yourself stumbling into Lady Emily numerous times. It does make one wonder.”
“The incidents are only mentioned in passing. They play no larger role in the plot.” There was no reason for anyone to draw a parallel, Callum decided, attempting to relax. “It’s hardly noteworthy.”
“Are you certain Emily will share that view?” Anthony asked.
“She may not even read the book,” Callum said. He was suddenly bothered by the unnecessary amount of worry his friends were causing.
Brody gazed at him in dismay. “Of course she will when you tell her you wrote it.”
This was probably true. “I’ll simply have to not tell her then. The author will be anonymous anyway.”
“I don’t recommend that you start your marriage with a lie,” Brody said. “If I were you, I’d get ahead of the problem by speaking with her straight away. Tell her about the book and what she’ll find when she reads it. Explain that you wrote it before you fell madly in love with her.”
“I’m not really ready to use that word yet,” Callum hedged.
“Doesn’t matter,” Brody insisted. “The only thing that counts is the fact that she’ll be less hurt if you open your heart completely.”
Anthony, who’d fallen quiet for a few minutes suddenly added, “It may already be too late.”
Callum froze. “What do you mean?”
“Brody and I came to give you some news of our own. The Lady Librarian has informed Ada that she has begun reading our novel and that she expects to have finished it by the end of the week.”
“That’s excellent news,” Callum said. “I don’t see how it relates to the problem of Emily possibly reading the book though.”
Anthony’s jaw tightened. “I’m not supposed to know this, so it is imperative that you keep what I am about to share with you both a secret. Do I have your words of honor?”
“Of course,” Callum and Brody assured him in unison.
“Very well.” Anthony took a deep breath and expelled it. “EmilyisThe Lady Librarian.”
Callum gaped at his friend. It felt like a ton of bricks had been launched directly at his sternum. He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’d no idea,” Brody muttered, “although it does make a great deal of sense.”
