Candice Hern Read Free Page A

reached across the desk and touched her hand. “I know the Cabinet is not the lofty public forum you had once hoped to achieve.”
    “It is enough, Nickie. I am content.” It was true that she had once aspired to greater things. She had wanted to write grand philosophical works filled with new and radical ideas. But time—and loss—had softened her attitude and moderated her objectives. She no longer dreamed of great works, but only hoped to make a small difference.
    “It is a challenge, after all,” she said, “to maintain the innocent face of the Cabinet . So long as it appears to be the usual trivial feminine publication with fashion plates and sentimental poetry, no one will expect otherwise. I’d be willing to bet most readers do not suspect the true intent underlying some of its messages. Uncle Victor will suspect nothing, either, and will continue to leave us alone. We would not like him looking too closely at the account books, would we?”
    A soft scratching at the door preceded the entry of Prudence Armitage, long a friend to both Parrishes, and Edwina’s indispensable assistant editor. Her reddish-blonde hair was coming out of its pins, as usual, and her spectacles had been pushed to the top of her head.
    “A letter has just arrived by special messenger,” she said. A look of concern clouded her eyes as she approached the desk. “It is from Victor Croyden.”
    Edwina shot a quick glance at her brother, then took the folded parchment from Prudence. It was a bit unnerving to hear from Uncle Victor just when they had been speaking of him—an odd sensation, as though their conversation had been overheard. “Whatever can he want?” She could think of nothing that might have prompted this unexpected communication.
    Edwina had a bad feeling about this. Had he finally discovered what she’d been up to?
    She broke the seal and read. Her uncle’s handwriting was cursive to a fault and difficult to decipher. But one thing was perfectly clear.
    “Good God.” She fell back against the chair, feeling as though she’d been punched in the stomach. “I can’t believe it.”
    Nicholas bolted from his seat and came to her side. “What is it, Ed? Bad news?”
    Ignoring her brother, Edwina considered what she’d read. A stab of anger, sharp and bright as a new blade, tore at her gut. “How could he? And without even a word to me.” She jerked to her feetand began to pace the small, uncluttered area behind the desk. “I don’t care if he is my uncle by marriage, it is a beastly thing to have done.”
    “What?” Nicholas asked. “What has he done?”
    “All these years, all my hard work—it means nothing to him. You would think he’d at least consult me, as editor. Or, God forbid, offer it to me first. But, no. Oh, this is monstrous. Monstrous!”
    “Ed, what are you talking about?”
    “And now what am I supposed to do?” Edwina said. She continued to pace in agitated fury. Three steps, turn around, three steps, turn around. “Am I to politely stand aside? To pretend it doesn’t matter? To remain silent like a good little niece and do as I’m told? All because I’m a mere woman who cannot possibly have a head for business? Bah!”
    “Edwina,” Prudence said, “please tell us what has happened.”
    Edwina wadded the parchment into a tiny ball and flung it hard across the room. “It’s all ruined, that’s what. Everything we’ve worked for is in jeopardy. Hell and damnation.”
    Nicholas leaned on the desk. “For God’s sake, Ed, if you don’t tell us what the devil has happened, I am going to come over there and shake it out of you.”
    She stopped pacing and looked up into the anxious faces of Prudence and Nicholas. “He’s sold the Cabinet . We have a new owner.”

Chapter 2
    T ony glanced again at the note in his hand, thankful that at least the numbers were clear. If he had not vaguely recollected Croyden mentioning his niece lived in Golden Square, he never would have been able