Chapter 11

“I trust Mr. Michaels is a friend of yours,” Anthony said while Ada poured them all a cup of tea from the pot a maid had delivered. “Mathis tells me you arrived together and that you vouched for him.”

“We’re colleagues,” Brody informed him, choosing to say as little as possible on the subject.

“Interesting coincidence, him being a friend of Ada’s and you being a longtime friend of mine.” Anthony smirked and for some absurd reason his eyes also danced with mischief.

“I suppose so,” Brody agreed. He sipped the tea Ada handed him and noted the warning glance she sent her husband. It very much felt as though there was a secret joke he wasn’t in on – or worse, that he was the brunt of.

“And what do you think?” Anthony asked.

“Of what?”

“Of Mr. Michaels, of course, what else?”

“Er…” Brody could feel his face starting to heat. Not good. The last thing he needed was for his friend to suspect something might be amiss.

He fought the urge to tug at his cravat. Hell, he’d barely allowed himself to recognize that he might find Mr. Michaels a little attractive. Not that he’d ever pursue a relationship with a man. He couldn’t even wrap his head around how such a thing might work. The mechanics of it did not appeal in the slightest, but when he looked at that mouth and gazed into those hazel eyes, he had the most urgent compulsion to kiss him.

Madness. That’s all this was. It would surely pass if he set his sights on a beautiful woman.

He cleared his throat. “He’s very skilled at what he does. Granted, my knowledge of printing and what it involves was lacking before I began working at Hudson Co. Having seen Mr. Michaels in action though, I believe he might be the best compositor in the country.”

“He’s worked very hard to hone his skills,” Ada said. “Thankfully, he enjoys it, and the pay is better than most other places available to him.”

“So he says.” Brody drummed his fingers on the armrest. He wanted to know more about the young man but feared additional questions might be suspicious. Clearing his throat, he decided to change the subject. “I’ve brought some exciting news.”

Anthony stilled. “Really?”

Brody grinned. “I managed to get Mr. Hudson to read our book, and he loves it. Sent me here himself for the purpose of making an offer.”

Ada clapped her hands together while Anthony slapped his thigh. “Brilliant, Brody. Well done.”

“I’ve brought the agreement with me. Mr. Hudson asked that I get it signed right away, so the only question now is whose signature we’ll use.” When Anthony and Ada exchanged a look, Brody said, “I’m of the opinion that Ada should be the face of the author, as initially agreed, while Anthony, Callum, and I remain anonymous.”

“What say you, Ada?” Anthony asked.

“It’s fine with me as long as the three of you agree to do all additional writing. But what about Callum? Shouldn’t we get his opinion on this?”

“I’m certain he will agree,” Brody said, to which Anthony nodded. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll cite a two-to-one vote.”

He reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved the agreement Mr. Hudson had prepared. Using his finger, he broke the seal and unfolded the papers. Elation poured through him when he saw the offer. He could scarcely credit it, but the sum clearly meant Mr. Hudson was very determined. He did not want the author to take the book elsewhere.

“What is it?” Anthony asked, his voice low.

Brody glanced at his friend, then at Ada, before returning his gaze to the paper he held between his hands. “We’ll receive an initial advance of eight hundred pounds, to be gradually paid off with the sale of each book. After that, we’ll collect thirty percent of each copy sold.”

“Astonishing,” Ada murmured.

“The initial print run will consist of five thousand copies and will be marketed as a grand romance for anyone fond of Jane Austen.”

“How utterly marvelous,” Anthony said. “Eight hundred pounds split between us will certainly help us back on our feet.”

“Especially since it’s payable upon completion of this contract,” said Brody. He handed the agreement to Anthony so he could review it as well.

“It looks acceptable to me.” He gave it to Ada.

“Shall I sign it then?”

“Please do,” Anthony told her as soon as Brody gave a nod of approval.

She crossed to the small escritoire that stood against one wall and took a seat behind it.

“There’s something else I probably ought to mention,” Brody told Anthony. “It’s personal in nature and involves my brother. Turns out he was seen kissing Ramsgate’s daughter in public the night before last. Ramsgate stopped by out of courtesy to let me know he’s challenged Finn to a duel. It’s set to take place tomorrow morning.”

“Of all the…” Anthony trailed off and eventually huffed a breath. “I’m sorry, Brody. Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think so, unless you can come up with some way for him to avoid the altercation altogether.”

“The only way to do that would be for him to marry the chit or if you can somehow convince the marquess to renege.”

“I already tried that but he’s determined to go through with it and marriage is off the table. Ramsgate doesn’t consider Finn worthy.”

“In that case, I see no other way out. If Finn himself chooses to walk away, he’ll be considered dishonorable, which may not be a fate worse than death to him, but it will have a negative impact on his reputation. Forever.”

“I know. I was hoping you’d have an inspired idea.”

“Sorry,” Anthony muttered.

His wife returned with the signed document, and Brody gave it a quick once over before slipping it into his jacket pocket. He stood and prepared to take his leave.

“You’re welcome to stay for luncheon if you like,” Anthony told him.

“Thank you, but Mr. Hudson gave me two hours to handle this and check on Mr. Michaels. I’m afraid luncheon would take too long.”

“Of course,” Anthony said. “But you still have time to check on Mr. Michaels, if you wish.”

“I’m not sure I need to any more. Now that I know he’s all right, I can tell Mr. Hudson that he’ll return to work soon.”

“When do you suppose that might be?” Anthony asked. When Brody shrugged, his friend said, “We’ve just signed a publishing deal. It would be prudent to make sure the person charged with printing our book is capable.”

“Mr. Hudson will find someone else if he isn’t.”

“You said yourself that Mr. Michaels is the best.”

“He is.”

“Well then, it stands to good reason that you should check on him, Brody. Those wounds looked like they could do with more cleaning than what was accomplished here. And if Mr. Michaels is busy taking care of his sister, he may not think to take proper care of himself.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Ada said.

“But the wounds could get infected,” Brody muttered. “His hands…”

“Not good news for a compositor I’d imagine,” Anthony said.

“You’re absolutely right.” Why the hell hadn’t he thought of this himself? Mr. Michaels depended on his hands. If the wounds weren’t properly cleaned he could risk losing a finger, possibly more.

Good God.

“By the way, Ada,” Anthony said while all sorts of horrid scenarios swam through Brody’s brain. “Did you send one of the footmen to fetch the doctor?”

“I did.”

“Very good. I do believe Brody will meet him at Mr. Michaels’s home. If you could please provide the address.”

“Honestly, Anthony, I’m not sure that’s—”

“Trust me, Ada.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek in a show of affection that instantly made Brody long for that sort of connection with the right woman. Infuriatingly, the face he envisioned when thinking of kissing was Mr. Michaels’s.

Ugh!

Much to Brody’s surprise, Ada rolled her eyes and shook her head with bemusement. She finally gave up the address as though she believed it to be the sort of idea that was bound to land them all in a great deal of trouble.

Brody didn’t understand it. If Mr. Michaels was her friend, surely she would appreciate Anthony’s reasoning. It made perfect sense to Brody. Checking on Mr. Michaels was without doubt the correct thing to do. It was certainly the only way for him to have a clear conscience.