ChapterTwenty-Two
Jamie’s “very good Port” flowed with such abundance that it gave Andrew a slow start the following morning.Snow flurries on a sharp wind hindered his progress further.Andrew knew what actually slowed his steps; the effects of drink and the weather were merely excuses for avoiding the work.
Bailey told him today should be the last of it.In another day, there would be a book.There would be a run of five hundred copies to be specific.Not a large amount, but Andrew thought it sufficient.He would go home to his empty house with only Jamie and Harley for company.
The warmth of Bailey’s, even the smell and clutter of the back rooms, was a relief after the winds.“I’m sorry to be late, Bailey, I–”
John Bailey wasn’t alone.The Marquess of Glenaire stretched across a wooden chair next to the printer, his long legs and elegant wardrobe gloriously out of place.“Hello, Andrew.Good of you to join us,” he said.
Bailey’s face registered concern but not alarm.Perhaps Glenaire hadn’t threatened him.Andrew removed his greatcoat and hung his hat with exaggerated care while he gathered his scattered wits.
“Hello, Richard.I didn’t know you had business with Bailey.”If Glenaire thought he could be intimidated out of his mission, he was mistaken.Then again, Glenaire rarely used anything as crude as outright intimidation.He watched his old friend warily.
“This establishment came to my attention quite recently,” the Marquess drawled.He looked about with every sign of interest.“Mr.Bailey and I were just discussing the economics of the printing business.It is difficult for a small business owner, isn’t it Mr.Bailey?”
Bailey looked from Glenaire to Andrew and back again.“Difficult, yes, but not impossible.”
“You expect me to believe you stopped in to talk business with the shop owner, Richard?Come, come.Surely you have weightier matters on your mind.”
“Greek perhaps?”
“Since when do you care about Greek literature?”
“Since it impacts my sister.”
“It has always impacted your sister.You simply chose to ignore it.”
“Gentlemen, may I speak bluntly?”Bailey interrupted.Clearly the sight of a titled gentleman casually conversing in his office failed to intimidate John Bailey.
“Certainly, Mr.Bailey.What is your concern?”Glenaire managed to convey, “What concern could you possibly have in the matter of my sister?”
“If this is about the work I do for Mr.Mallet, then I must suggest you address your concerns directly and notdance around the thing.”
“I agree.I understand that you are printing a work for Mallet here.”
“My arrangement with Bailey is none of your business.”Andrew bit out each word.
The Marquess glanced up from under thick blond lashes.“Oh, I think it is.What concerns my sister is most certainly my business.It is my duty to look after her interests.”
Andrew watched Bailey, who went pale.He wondered if he had told Glenaire the identity of the author of the work.He thought not; Glenaire would have guessed.
“I am Lady Georgiana’s partner, I have every right?—”
“I heard her demand that you return her notes and translations.”
“And so I shall—as soon as I return to Cambridge.Her manuscript materials are hers.I will send them directly to Helsington.”The Marquess gave Andrew one of his particularly inscrutable looks.Andrew didn’t know what to make of it, but he didn’t back down.
“But in the meantime, Mr.Bailey will print them?”
“The notes?”
“No.Notin that form.The translations and commentaries as Lady Georgiana and I agreed.”Andrew bit out the last words and dared him to object.
“Commentaries?Yours?”Glenaire asked.
“Hers.Mine.It is impossible to separate them.”
“And will my sister’s name be on this book?”
