The Perfect Mistress. Victoria Alexander

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ and met her gaze with a fervor akin to that of a missionary converting heathens. “I think this book will be a very great success. The sort of success publishing houses are built upon. That establishes a publisher as a legitimate force in the market.”

      “I don’t understand.” She pulled her brows together. “As you mentioned, Cadwallender and Sons has been in business for a very long time. Its reputation is well known.”

      “It is indeed. However, the reputation of Cadwallender Brothers Publishing has yet to be established.” He grimaced. “Not unexpected as the company has yet to publish a single book.”

      She shook her head. “I still don’t—”

      “My younger brother and I have started our own firm. We have experience, funding, and investors confident of our future. Neither of us are averse to the hard work that lies ahead and I have no doubt as to our ultimate success.” He met her gaze. “I would very much like The Perfect Mistress to be our first offering.”

      “I see.” She studied him for a moment. “You’re going to compete against your father?”

      “My father has decided to turn over the management of the company to my brothers. I do not wish to spend the rest of my life engaged in battles I cannot win. Furthermore, the publishing of books is of far less importance to them than the Messenger, which has always been the primary focus of the firm. My brothers are intent upon launching additional publications as well.” He squared his shoulders. “I do not see this as competition as much as the development and expansion of a field they have little interest in. A field, I think, that is the way of the future.”

      “Your enthusiasm is commendable, however—”

      A knock sounded at the door and immediately it opened.

      “Beg pardon, my lady,” her butler, Daniels, said with his usual air of cool competence. “Lady Smithson and Lady Redwell have arrived.”

      “Oh dear.” She glanced at the ormolu clock on the overmantel. “I didn’t realize the time.” She rose to her feet, the publisher immediately following suit. “Mr. Cad-wallender, my initial inquiry was predicated on the upstanding reputation of Cadwallender and Sons. I am not at all certain I have the … the courage required to trust the fate of this book to a new venture. I fear, therefore, I shall have to query another publisher and—”

      “Lady Winterset.” Mr. Cadwallender clasped her hand in his and met her gaze directly. “I beg you not to make a hasty decision. Please give me the opportunity to further plead my case. I assure you, you will not regret it.”

      She stared into his earnest, hazel eyes. Very nice eyes really that struck her as quite trustworthy, even if that might be due as much to his fervor as anything else. Still, there was no need to make a decision today.

      “Very well, Mr. Cadwallender.” She smiled and withdrew her hand. “I shall give your proposal due consideration.”

      “Thank you,” he said with relief. “Perhaps I can arrange for a higher advance as well. May I call on you again in a day or two to discuss it further?”

      “Of course.”

      “Again, you have my gratitude.” He smiled and his eyes lit with pleasure, very nice eyes in a more than ordinarily handsome face. “I am confident, Lady Winterset, this is the beginning of a profitable relationship for us both.” With that, he nodded and took his leave, offering a polite bow of greeting to her friends who entered the parlor as he left.

      “I can see why you are late,” Veronica, Lady Smithson, said in a wry manner, her gaze following the publisher. “I would certainly forgo tea with my friends for a liaison with a man like that.”

      “It was not a liaison,” Julia said firmly.

      “Still, he is quite dashing, isn’t he?” Portia, Lady Red-well, craned her neck to see past the parlor door and into the entry hall. “If one likes fair hair and broad shoulders …” Her gaze jerked back to the other women, a telltale blush washing over her face. “Not that I do. Although, of course, what woman wouldn’t? That is to say …” She raised her chin. “One can appreciate art without being in the market for a painting. That’s what I meant.”

      “Yes, of course you did,” Veronica said in an absent manner, her attention again on Julia, much to Portia’s obvious relief.

      Of the three widows, Portia was the most concerned with propriety. Veronica had, on more than one occasion, observed privately that it was those who walked the narrowest paths that were the most likely to plunge over a cliff when the opportunity presented itself. Fortunately for Portia, or unfortunately in Veronica’s view, Portia had yet to so much as peer over the edge of a cliff.

      For that matter, neither had Julia. But she had discovered a great deal about herself since her husband’s death. Her character was far stronger than she had imagined. One did what one had to do to survive in this world. As for propriety, while she had always considered herself most proper in both behavior and manner, it was no longer as important as it once was.

      “If it wasn’t a liaison,” Veronica continued, “which, I might add, is a very great pity as surely Portia agrees, given that she is an excellent judge of art …” Portia offered her friends a weak smile. “Who was he and what sort of profitable relationship is he confident about?”

      Julia narrowed her eyes. “How much of the conversation did you hear?”

      “Not nearly enough.” Veronica breezed farther into the room, settled on the sofa, and began taking off her gloves. “You should call for tea.”

      “I thought we were to have tea at Fenwick’s?” Julia said slowly.

      “We were.” Portia moved past Julia and seated herself beside Veronica. The three women had first met several years ago at the reading room at Fenwick and Sons Booksellers, which did seem to attract young widows who had little else to occupy their time. Indeed, it had become something of a unofficial club for ladies, as well as the home of the loosely organized Ladies Literary Society. It was Veronica who had suggested to the elder Mr. Fenwick or perhaps one of the sons—as they were all of an indeterminate age, somewhat interchangeable, and nearly impossible to tell apart—that the reading room could prove profitable by simply offering refreshments. Although Veronica had never admitted it, Julia suspected her suggestion had carried with it financial incentive. It would not surprise Julia to learn Veronica was now a part owner of Fenwick and Sons. “But you failed to appear at the appointed time.”

      Julia glanced at the clock. “I am scarcely half an hour late.”

      “Yes, but while Veronica and I are rarely on time, you are always punctual.” Portia pinned her with a firm look. “Your note said you had something of importance to discuss. When you did not appear, we were naturally concerned.”

      Julia folded her arms over her chest. “You were naturally curious.”

      “Regardless.” Veronica studied her closely. “It was concern that compelled us to fly to your rescue.” She raised a brow. “Tea?”

      “Of course,” Julia murmured and stepped out of the room to direct Daniels to have tea prepared. She would have much preferred to have had refreshments at Fen-wick’s rather than here. It wasn’t that she did not like her modest home, it was simply not as grand as either Portia’s or Veronica’s. As such it pointed out the vast differences СКАЧАТЬ