A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7)

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A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 9

by Lana Williams


  “Sometimes, rogues make the best husbands.” Annabelle offered a knowing smile, a light gleaming in her eyes. Her gaze hovered over Margaret’s shoulder. “He just finished conversing with Lady Maria Edelman.”

  “Good.”

  “Why is that good?” Annabelle asked.

  “She seems nice and might make a fine countess.”

  “And why is that good?”

  Annabelle was like a dog with a bone. “Since he inherited, it’s even more important that he marry, and I’m certain Charlotte would prefer to have a sister-in-law she likes.”

  “And?”

  Margaret frowned. “And what?”

  “Why shouldn’t that be you?”

  Though tempted to tell her sister the truth, now wasn’t the time. Not when she knew Annabelle would argue. “Although I consider Edward a friend, I don’t believe we would suit. I’m certain he feels the same way toward me.” Why did the memory of their kisses have to fill her mind at that particular moment? It was as if her own thoughts were trying to undermine her efforts.

  “Hmm.” Annabelle stared over Margaret’s shoulder for a long moment. Then, much to Margaret’s relief, she changed the subject.

  If only Margaret could change her feelings for Edward as easily. Thank goodness she had other things to occupy her mind in the coming days. Thinking of Edward was becoming more complicated than she’d dreamed possible.

  Chapter Nine

  Margaret opened the door of her brother-in-law’s printing shop two days later, breathless with excitement, her maid trailing behind.

  Thomas had offered to show her how her drawings were printed in the magazine, and she looked forward to better understanding the process.

  “There she is,” Thomas exclaimed with a smile as he caught sight of her. The dimples that had helped to capture Annabelle’s affections were in full display as he strode forward.

  “Good morning.” She smiled as he escorted her farther into the bustling workplace after seeing her maid settled in a chair by the door. “Thank you for taking the time to show me everything.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” He paused a short distance from the door and well away from the workers. “I apologize for teasing you the other night at the ball.”

  “It’s quite all right.”

  “I’m so pleased with the response to the fashion plates that I couldn’t help myself. Annabelle and I are very proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” For Margaret, it was enough that her family knew and appreciated her talent. “I’m enjoying the challenge and look forward to seeing this side of the plates.”

  “Then let me show you how it’s done. As I already mentioned,” Thomas began, “there are a few methods available to print drawings in magazines. We chose to engrave because it allows for greater precision and intensity of the print process.” He gestured toward an engraver who sat in a chair at a desk, cutting a design into a copper plate. “The tool Mrs. Johnson is using is a graver or burin. Once she’s completed the engraving, she’ll scrape the plate to leave the clean lines behind.”

  Mrs. Johnson gave her a friendly smile as she held up the plate for Margaret to have a closer look. It was one of the drawings she’d turned into Thomas weeks ago.

  Margaret’s stomach performed a little flip at the realization that her work was engraved in copper. But she wasn’t the only one with skill. It took that and more to recreate a design in metal and from what she could see, Mrs. Johnson did so with great care. “Your talent is impressive.”

  “Thank you, miss. I enjoy it.”

  Thomas nodded his thanks to the woman then led Margaret toward a large table where a man and three women worked.

  “After printing, they are hand-tinted or colored.” Thomas gestured toward the workers. “The heavier paper that we use for the prints makes the process easier. Many of our staff are studying to become artists and are very talented. While some publishers hire out the coloring as piece work, we wanted it done on the premises to maintain quality and consistency.”

  “How interesting.” She leaned closer to watch as one of the workers lightly colored the image of a gown the exact shade of blue on her drawing, using a delicate touch. The artist took care to include the darker shadows of the folds of the fabric. This was yet another position that required skill.

  Margaret knew uncolored plates had been printed in magazines since 1770. However, the increase in lending and subscription libraries of late had generated additional readers as they had more affordable access to reading materials. In general, the colored fashion plates sold more magazines which made the laborious, expensive process worthwhile. At least with the engraved plate, the basic shape of the drawing was already complete, making it easier and quicker to color.

  Before she’d created her first fashion plate, Thomas had cautioned her to use limited background details in the image to reduce the time it took to engrave and color them.

  They watched for several minutes, Margaret awed by the effort it took to create the two to three colored prints in each copy every month.

  Thomas gestured toward the back of the printing office. “As you know, the magazines come in paper covers that are slightly heavier than the individual pages. Our covers state the name of the magazine as well as the date and issue. We’ve considered adding the table of contents on the cover as well, but I prefer a simpler version at this point.”

  Magazines were meant to be kept and eventually bound with other issues so they could be stored on bookshelves. They were often sent back to the publisher for binding. Instructions were also included if the reader chose to have someone else bind several issues together.

  “Our preferred length is fifty-five pages, and we think we’ve found a good mix of essays on travel, biographies, and history that appeal to both the middle and upper class. However, we would like to add commentaries on the fashions.” He looked at her with a brow raised, as if to suggest he wanted her to consider writing them.

  “How interesting.” The idea appealed to her on multiple levels as it would afford her the opportunity to better explain her drawings as well as share what should be avoided and why.

  “We’re thinking of something not overly gossipy and written with a light tone rather than a lecturing one. The sort of advice that a friend might share, reflecting on new trends as well.”

  “I think that would be quite entertaining. I enjoy the poetry and short stories included in the magazine, too.”

  “Those have proven to be popular. We’re also considering adding sheet music on occasion along with reports on new plays and articles on painting, needlework, and other household topics that appeal to women.” He escorted her to the small office he kept at the printing shop where they could have a moment of privacy.

  “Offering variety is smart,” Margaret said with a nod.

  “Yes, but the one consistent success is the fashion plates. They are remarked on more than anything else and have already increased subscriptions significantly.”

  Margaret couldn’t help but grin, pressing a hand to her chest as joy welled within her.

  “Your talent is remarked upon every day,” Thomas advised, an understanding light in his eyes. “Annabelle and I are thrilled for you. Thank you for sharing your gift with us and those who read our magazine.”

  “Thank you for asking me to.” She shook her head, hardly able to believe her simple drawings had anything to do with the success of the publication. “I’ve always enjoyed sketching fashion designs, but I never dreamed anyone other than my mother and sisters would see them. Nor did I think they were special or unique.”

  “Annabelle isn’t the only creative person in your family. Your talent is remarkable. To continually offer new ideas that so many find appealing is a gift. Don’t be surprised when you start seeing your designs in the ballroom.”

  Margaret chuckled at the thought. “If that happens, I will have to take care not to give myself away.”

  “It will, Margaret. I expect nothing less based on
the response of our readers. So, how do you feel about adding commentary to what you’re already doing? Something beyond a basic description?”

  “I think I would like that very much.”

  “You could start with some of the more general dos and don’ts of fashion. That might build the readers’ trust in you and your opinion, then build from there.”

  “How exciting.” The suggestion appealed to her and already ideas were swirling as to what she could say.

  “Excellent. Please let me know if it ever becomes too much for you.” His brow furrowed. “You already do so much for your mother and father. I hope you don’t feel overly burdened between that and this new task.”

  “Thank you but thus far, I find I enjoy both.” She felt more fulfilled since beginning her work on the drawings. As if she had a purpose. The task had made her realize that simply helping with her father wasn’t enough. Especially since she’d decided marriage wasn’t in her future, a decision she hadn’t made lightly. In truth, it left her feeling hollow and alone at times, even if she knew in her heart it was the right thing to do.

  But it also made her feel different—as if she were on a separate path than nearly everyone else her age. It was impossible to explain, and she didn’t quite understand it herself. She felt a bit selfish to be sad at the idea of never having a family of her own. Was it any wonder that she was reluctant to share her decision with the rest of her family when she was still coming to grips with it herself?

  Margaret pulled her thoughts back to the view of the workers visible through the glass panes of Thomas’s office. “I am blessed to have this opportunity. Seeing all this makes me even more determined to do a good job.”

  “Perhaps this will encourage you.” Thomas reached down to open a drawer of his desk and withdrew a piece of paper. “This is a record of the draft deposited into your account.”

  She took the paper, surprised at the number noted. “This is more than we previously discussed.”

  “Yes, but the increase in subscriptions has made the magazine more lucrative than expected. It is only fair that you share in the profit since your work is a major reason for the increase.”

  Pride and satisfaction welled within her. The work she was doing would allow her to put aside savings for the future. Aberland had been kind enough to see to it that she had funds and a settlement. Whether she married or not, the money would be hers. Her pay would be a little addition to that and seemed to suggest she’d made the right decision about her future. Hopefully, it would also help to offset the feeling of loss that occasionally swept over her. “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “My pleasure. I’m pleased that I came across your talent at the perfect time. But I’m even more pleased to have you as a member of the family.”

  “I feel the same. None of this would be possible if it weren’t for you.” Knowing she could trust him took all the risk out of the endeavor. How brave Annabelle had been to place her trust in him even before they were married.

  Margaret glanced once more at the note then folded it carefully and placed it in her reticule with a smile. “Thank you for the tour. I know you’re busy so I won’t take any more of your time.”

  He pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “I do have a meeting at the publishing office shortly. May I walk you out?”

  She nodded, and they walked through the printing shop to the front door where her maid waited. She bid Thomas goodbye and stepped out into the sunshine, sighing with satisfaction.

  Some of the doubt she hadn’t been able to completely dismiss about her future had eased. Surely this was a sign she was moving in the right direction.

  Yet as an image of Edward filled her mind, her heart squeezed. Her recent interactions with him had provided more disquiet than she’d realized, making her long for what couldn’t be. She didn’t have the fortune he required, and he couldn’t help with her father. They simply weren’t meant to be together, regardless of how his kisses made her feel.

  She pushed away the longing before it gained a tighter grip and glanced back at her maid. “Let us stop on the way home and purchase some flowers.” A small reward for herself that her mother and father could also enjoy. Moments like this would be all she had, so she needed to celebrate them.

  ~*~

  Edward looked up from the news sheet he’d been perusing at Brooks’s, his gentlemen's club, to see Viscount Redmond striding toward him. Edward quickly tossed aside the paper and rose to greet him, offering his hand. “I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you again until well after the wedding,” Edward teased.

  In truth, he missed his friend. They had spent a significant amount of time together in the past nine months. But all that changed when Redmond became involved in the charity for wounded soldiers.

  “It has been too long since we had a few minutes to ourselves,” Redmond said as he shook Edward’s hand.

  Edward gestured toward a chair at the table, and they took their seats. Though Redmond had joined the family for dinner on occasion recently, the conversation was always filled with wedding plans or the like.

  “You don't wish to discuss who should be invited to the wedding breakfast or what I should wear, do you?” Redmond asked with a smile.

  Edward chuckled. “Does that mean you have grown weary of all the planning?”

  “Let us just say that I will be pleased when the ceremony is behind us.”

  “As will I.” Though it meant Charlotte would no longer be living under their roof, he knew his sister couldn't be in better hands.

  His pleasure at the idea of having James as a brother-in-law had him thinking of Margaret and her concern that Charlotte have the right sister-in-law as well. Margaret was right, and he intended to keep that in mind as he searched for a bride.

  After exchanging other news while a waiter had brought them drinks, Edward settled back in his chair. “How are things at the charity progressing?”

  Though he knew the organization was important to Redmond, he also knew the work had helped the viscount battle his own demons from the war. His friend rarely spoke of what he’d endured, but Edward could well imagine from the few stories he’d heard from others about their experiences. The conditions had been terrible and far too many had died. Few men could return from an experience like that without scars, both internal and external.

  “Very well. We’ve reached more men and convinced them to accept assistance in one form or another.” He smiled with satisfaction though it quickly turned to a scowl. “Some are more stubborn than others.”

  “I suppose not everyone is willing to admit to having difficulty.”

  “Pride often gets in the way for us all.” Redmond paused to take a sip of his drink. “I have personally called on nearly a dozen of my own men to speak with them about what the charity offers.”

  “That must be effective.”

  “For the most part, yes. One I had to trick, telling him that we needed his help to aid other soldiers worse off than he was.”

  “And was it successful?”

  “Yes. I suppose I’m like him—better off after aiding others.”

  “Whatever method it takes to convince them to become involved, eh?”

  “Indeed. The Earl of Granger has gathered numerous skilled tradesmen to offer apprenticeships to those soldiers who need help finding a new occupation. It’s rewarding to see the light of hope in their expressions at the idea of finding a new calling. Especially one where any physical limitation they now have doesn’t limit their performance.”

  “We all like to feel useful.” Edward couldn’t be prouder of his friend.

  “What?” Redmond asked when he noted Edward’s grin.

  “I see the difference the work has made in you, and it pleases me.”

  Redmond nodded. “I admit to struggling before I became involved with Charlotte. Then everything changed for the better only to improve yet again when I began working with Granger. Sometimes what we think is impossible shifts and becomes possible after a
ll.” His contentedness tightened Edward’s chest in an odd fashion.

  While he appreciated how everything had come together for Redmond even when events had been at their darkest, which included Edward’s father’s death, Edward didn’t see how he could expect similar results.

  Wishing wouldn’t change his fortune. Only careful planning would. That meant marrying an heiress. He’d been through his options more times than he could count and that was the only one that made sense and actually seemed achievable.

  Unfortunately, his enthusiasm for the task had waned. He placed the blame for that squarely on Margaret, along with his unexpected attraction to her.

  He stirred from his thoughts as someone approached their table.

  “Good afternoon.” Lord Samuelson offered a grim smile as his gaze shifted between them.

  Edward couldn’t keep from clenching his fist at the sight of him. While it wasn’t Samuelson’s fault that Edward’s father had intended to settle a gambling debt with Charlotte’s hand in marriage, Samuelson’s acceptance of the offer still rankled.

  Redmond wasn’t any more welcoming of the lord than Edward. He turned his crystal glass on the table in slow circles as if the lord’s arrival didn’t interest him in the least. But Edward noted the tightening of his shoulders.

  “I must say I’m surprised to see the two of you are still speaking to each other,” Lord Samuelson said.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” Redmond asked.

  The other lord shrugged. “Money—or the lack thereof—often changes relationships.”

  It took all of Edward’s restraint to keep from jerking to his feet to throttle the man. He didn’t need a reminder of the debt he owed Redmond, regardless of whether his friend acknowledged it. The idea of planting his fist in Samuelson’s face was nearly overwhelming.

  “Money isn’t a priority for everyone,” Redmond said.

  “It should be for every titled peer.” Lord Samuelson lifted his nose as if to better look down on them. “How else can one preserve holdings for future generations?”

  Every word out of the man’s mouth poked a hole in the faint hope Edward had hidden deep inside. So deep he hadn’t been aware of it until its loss.

 

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