Chapter 18

It was not yet seven o’clock when Emily rose the next morning. She’d not slept a wink. Instead, she’d spent the entire night reading the rest of the book Callum, Westcliffe, and Corwin had written. It was, she decided, an absolute treat.

Instead of heading to breakfast, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

“Has the paper arrived yet?” she asked a footman.

“I believe Larrow is pressing it right now.”

Emily thanked the footman and continued toward the butler’s pantry. She knocked on the door and pushed it open when Larrow’s voice invited her to enter.

His eyes widened when he saw it was she, and he instantly drew to attention. “Good morning, my lady. How may I be of service?”

“Please take care not to burn that,” Emily said, noting that he’d released his hold on the iron and left it on top of the paper. “I’m very eager to read it.”

“Of course.” He snatched the iron back up. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Emily tried her best to remain as patient as possible while the butler finished his task, but could not refrain from tapping her foot.

“Sorry,” she muttered when he sent her a curious look.

“Will you not go upstairs?” he asked. “I can bring it to you as soon as it’s ready.”

“Very well. Just don’t take too long.”

She removed herself to the dining room where a hot cup of tea provided a lovely distraction. The paper arrived the next moment, offered to her on a silver tray. Emily snatched it up with more haste than was deemed proper and promptly leafed to the only section of interest.

Relief sped through her veins when she saw the page Harriet had created. It was perfect. The old review was gone and in its place was the new one she’d written.

Emily re-folded the paper and placed it neatly beside her father’s plate. She then downed the rest of her tea, quickly ate a slice of toast, and returned upstairs where Georgina helped her prepare for the day ahead. By eight-thirty, the two of them left the house and set their course for Hatchards.

The place didn’t open until nine o’clock so they were still a bit early. They were, however, not the only customers to have arrived. A queue was already forming. Since this was slightly unusual, Emily approached one of the ladies who waited for the doors to be opened.

“Excuse me,” said Emily. “May I inquire as to your reason for having come here so early?”

“I love Miss Austen’s novels,” the woman informed her. “I’ve read every one and was very sad when I learned there wouldn’t be any more. But apparently there’s a new author who’s writing similar stories. I just read the review, written by The Lady Librarian. Her opinion has never steered me wrong, so I’m hopeful this story will be compelling. I thought it best to arrive in good time in case others were of a similar notion.”

Apparently, they were, Emily decided. The line had increased in length during the brief time in which the woman had spoken. Emily thanked her and moved to the end of the queue where she was able to get a similar opinion from another customer.

Rejoicing at the immediate hint of success the book was getting, she did her best to keep from grinning too much. By the time she entered the bookshop, only a few editions of the book remained. She refrained from taking one for herself since she already had a copy.

Instead, she left the shop with Georgina and headed toward Between the Pages, the bookshop owned by Ada’s uncle. The lovely aroma from the next-door bakery tempted her to stop there first and purchase a bag full of raisin buns. She offered one to Georgina before venturing inside the bookshop. Much like Hatchard’s, it was packed with customers.

Ada’s uncle, Mr. Quinn, was in the process of wrapping an order for one of the many women filling the space.

“Thank you so much,” the woman said when Mr. Quinn handed over her parcel. “Taylor Jones over on Dean Street was already sold out. I’m so relieved to have found a copy here.”

“I hope you enjoy the story,” Mr. Quinn told her. “And should you wish for it to be properly bound, simply return with your receipt and we’ll give you a discount.”

The lady thanked him and departed.

Leaving Georgina by the door, Emily approached the counter. “I’m happy to lend a hand if you need a break.”

Mr. Quinn’s mouth slanted as he wrapped another copy of Seductive Scandal in brown paper. “I can’t believe the speed with which this book is selling. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. The customers don’t even want to wait for the book to be bound. They just want the pages so they can start reading at once.”

Emily set down her parcel of buns and helped the next lady in line.

“I hope you enjoy the story,” Emily told her.

“Oh, if the hero is anything like Mr. Darcy, I’m sure I’ll love every moment.” The rest of the women who stood behind her voiced their agreement.

Emily chuckled and wished her a pleasant day before helping the next customer with her purchase.

She bid Mr. Quinn farewell a half hour later and walked to Pall Mall. There, she stopped by an additional bookshop before taking a hackney to Westcliffe House. It was not her preferred destination of course, but as a young unmarried woman, she ought not stop by Stratton House without bringing her parents.

When she’d done so yesterday she’d been too beside herself to think of the possible repercussions.

“The book is a splendid success,” she told Ada when they met in the Westcliffe parlor. “The bookshops are already selling out.”

“I thought it might be a busy day after reading the splendid review you wrote,” Ada said. “It’s my intention to go help my uncle this afternoon.”

“Too late for that,” Emily told her. “He’s already sold every copy of Seductive Scandal he had in supply.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all.”

“But the shops have only been open for a couple of hours.”

“What can I say?” Emily grinned. “The book your husband wrote with his friends is a smashing success.”

“How marvelous.” Ada gave Emily a hug. “I’m sure it’s thanks to you.”

“Absolutely not. Several customers read the first pages before choosing to purchase a copy. Had the writing not been up to par, they’d not have done so, no matter how good my review might have been.”

“Am I to understand there’s good news?” Westcliffe asked as he sauntered into the parlor. “Your squeals and laughter were audible from the dining room so I trust there’s cause for some celebration?”

“The book is selling out,” Ada told him with a wide grin.

His expression brightened. “You don’t say.”

“I was actually wondering if you’d be willing to ask Corwin and Stratton to join us,” Emily said. “I’d like to let them both know, but I cannot stop by Stratton House on my own.”

“Of course.” Westcliffe rang for the butler and issued instructions for both of his friends to be summoned, along with Corwin’s wife, Harriet. “And please ask Cook to prepare a feast for luncheon. Given the hour, I believe my friends will be staying to eat.”

Emily counted the minutes after the butler’s departure. She could not stop from checking the clock, which appeared to be moving at a snail’s pace.

“Have you decided on where you’re going to have the wedding?” Ada asked.

“Not really.” Emily took a sip of the tea she’d been served. “So much has happened since we decided to marry, I’ve not found the time.”

“Of course.” Ada placed her hand over Emily’s. “Anthony and I were both extremely sorry to hear of your grandmother’s death. That must have been terribly hard.”

“Yes. It was very sudden.” A solemn moment of silence followed. Finding it stifling, Emily chose to say, “I think St. George’s would be lovely, if Callum agrees.”

“I’ve always liked that church,” Anthony said. “It’s a good size – not overwhelmingly large.”

“Exactly,” Emily agreed. “When I get home I’ll start putting together a guest list. Mama will likely want to be involved, especially with regard to the wedding breakfast. And then, I suppose, I should visit a modiste.”

“I’d love to come with you,” Ada said. “I’m sure Harriet would as well. We could make a day of it, if you like, with luncheon at Mivart’s.”

“What a lovely idea.” Emily glanced at the clock again and saw that only ten minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked. Returning her attention to her friends, she said, “The next book club meeting is set to take place this coming Saturday. I’m thinking of suggesting Seductive Scandal as the monthly novel.”

“Yes,” Ada agreed. “If some of the members have not yet read the book, this will get them to do so, which should improve on word-of-mouth sales.”

“But if the book is sold out,” Anthony mused, “will you not risk making it difficult for them to get their hands on a copy?”

“Perhaps we can use our copies. I believe we have three between us. Callum has one too, so that’s four editions we could potentially lend. Besides which, I can check with the printer to see if it’s possible to have additional copies printed upon request.”

“It’s possible they’ll publish a second edition based on success,” Ada said, “but that does tend to happen a few months later.”

“Callum did mention the possibility of your writing a second book with Emilia Parker and Mr. Dalton as the main characters. What’s your opinion on that?”

“I’m happy to give it a go,” Anthony said. “Working with Brody and Callum on this was actually a very enjoyable experience. I’d like to do it again.”

“Speaking of which,” Emily said. “Have the three of you not considered naming yourselves as joint authors?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Well for one thing, Seductive Scandal is a romance novel. Everyone will expect a woman to be the author.”

“Precisely.” Emily tilted her head in thought. “I believe your books would be even more sought after if it were known they were written by three men.”

“I don’t know.” Anthony glanced at Ada. “What do you think?”

“In my opinion, you and your friends deserve the credit, so it’s only if you wish to remain anonymous for the sake of privacy that you should keep your names secret. Otherwise, I do think Emily may have a point. It may even encourage men to purchase the book.”

“Exactly.” Emily leaned forward. “All the customers I saw today at the bookshops were women. But if the authors were known to be men, men might want to read the story too. And this could make the second edition sell out as well, which would lead to a third edition, perhaps even a fourth. It’s certainly worth thinking about. Is it not?”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmured, his expression pensive.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made Emily still even as her heart gave a swift series of hops. She glanced at the door and jerked to her feet when it opened to admit Brody and Harriet, followed by Callum.

His warm gaze met hers, weakening her knees to such a degree that she wobbled a little. He must have noticed for there was a blatant degree of amusement in his eyes, not to mention a touch of male satisfaction. It was patently clear that he liked the effect he was having on her.

She couldn’t blame him. It pleased her too when she stepped toward him and saw he wasn’t quite as composed as he tried to let on. The pulse beating at his throat betrayed him.

“Callum,” she whispered, forgoing all manner of etiquette. She gave him a broad smile. “The book is a smashing success. Every shop I visited on my way here is already sold out, including Hatchards.”

He grinned alongside Brody and Harriet.

“That’s marvelous news!” And then, as though it were just the two of them and they’d been married for years, he swept her into his arms and spun her around. “Thank you, my love. It appears as though your review has paid off.”

“Only because you and your friends wrote a wonderful book.”

His eyes held hers. “It would not have had this kind of success without your assistance.”

“I’ve just been discussing the idea of having the book club read it next month. This will help spread the word even more. As would revealing the true identities of the authors. If you and your friends agree, we could host an author event where the book club members get a chance to discuss the book with you.”

“That’s quite a lot to consider,” Brody said.

“Agreed.” Callum, who still held Emily in his arms with complete disregard for propriety, drew her even closer. “We’ll have to discuss it. But first, there’s something more pressing for me to address.”

Before she was able to wonder what that might be, he captured her mouth with his in a searing kiss that completely stole her breath. All she could do was cling to him while their friends clapped and cheered as though all of this were perfectly normal. Then again, none of them were remotely normal. They were three penniless dukes attempting to earn an income, a bookshop owner’s niece, a woman who’d made her living dressed as a boy, and The Lady Librarian.

Appreciating the love and friendship filling the room, Emily kissed Callum back with fervor while counting the days to their wedding.