Chapter 26
“She’d accomplished the impossible, lying to the highest echelons of society; but he’d been the one to see through her ruse. It hit her…he’d seen through her facade because he was playing the same game. Was there any way for them to both win without losing something?”
Adelaide, Chapter 11
He was keeping something from her. Noelle had signed a contract with Fitz’s publishing house; but so far, she’d had four different versions of edits sent back to her in short succession. How anyone had time for such a thing, she had no idea.
She’d had several meetings with various representatives from the publishing house, who’d agreed to publish her writing anonymously at Fitz’ behest; but her viscount hadn't been present.
She could almost smell the familiar scent of vetiver and citrus; but he wasn’t anywhere in the massive office, or the apartments upstairs reserved for the owner of the company, which many gossips revealed he’d been known to frequent.
Her editor sat across from her discussing her royalties and changes to her book, but Noelle felt like she’d merely been floating through the conversation.
It was all she wanted, but she thought they’d been on this path together.
Her talent, Fitz’s resources. But that’s not what this was.
She glanced at the clock, then at the door.
“When will his lordship be joining us?”
“Viscount Ludlowe?” The editor asked. He was old enough to be her father, with kind eyes and hair graying at the temples. “His lordship is more of what one would call a…silent partner, my lady.”
Noelle looked down at the papers in front of her, “So he doesn't…attend meetings?”
The man shifted in his seat. “Well…he attends them…he’s not entirely present.”
Noelle let out a long, slow exhale. This was not the answer she’d wanted to hear. At her sigh, the editor leaned in, “I am here to lend my services as much as I can, my lady.”
Noelle looked at her hands in her lap, toying with the ring on her finger. “I appreciate that, Mr. Lewis. His lordship promised that he wanted to work as a partnership. He had ideas and suggestions I was looking forward to hearing.”
The man glanced around him, “My lady, I’m sure you don’t want my advice. I’m in no position to cast judgment; but I feel there are some things, some demons attached to this place that his lordship is eager to avoid.”
Noelle sat up straighter, looking at the man with narrowing eyes.“What do you mean?”
“I have worked here for 20 years, I’ve known his lordship most of that time, since he came to the office with his parents. A harder man to please I never met than the previous viscount, I often felt bad for the lordling. Couldn’t have been easy, having a father like that.”
There was little judgment, mostly understanding in the man’s eyes.
She instantly felt sympathy for Fitz, recalling what his mother had said during their visit.
Which was quickly stifled by anger, and at whom she wasn’t quite sure.
She hadn’t had a father like that, she’d had a loving father who encouraged her.
She had on rare occasions seen the way the late Viscount spoke to Fitz and the Viscountess.
But she had sorted through her own grief, her own hardships, her own setbacks to be here.
It wasn’t a partnership if he couldn’t say the same.
When she’d sent him a message asking to meet with him to discuss the edits or tried to ask him about said edits at a social engagement, or a publication date, he’d used his usual tactics to evade the topic.
Noelle couldn’t reconcile the evasive version of Fitz with the one who’d promised himself to her, kissing her in full view of her protective older brother.
She’d talked Moria’s ladies’ maid, Ella, into being her escort to Pomfrey Manor; really, it hadn’t taken much convincing.
Noelle felt this was very trusting of Ella, who would likely lose her position if the Earl found out.
Ella had looked as eager to sneak out of the house and into the home of Noelle’s betrothed as Noelle herself was.
And so, Noelle had shown up at Fitz’s house during calling hours. The elderly butler who greeted her at the door went on about how it was not proper for her to be there. She barged her way in anyway, instructing Ella to wait in the hall.
“Happily,” Ella complied, taking a seat on an upholstered bench and removing a book from her reticule.
Noelle took in the wood paneling of the room, the golds and greens of the fabric, the soft carpet, the lush furniture and sparse belongings adorning the room. It was a well-appointed room, decorated with the height of fashion, but not overly populated with objects.
The most polished ornament in the room, Fitz, looked up from his vantage point at his escritoire and raised a brow. His eyes raked over her long limbs, her soft skin, her neatly arranged hair.
“To what do I owe this…unexpected pleasure?”
She let out a slow laugh that as it left her, she thought it sounded like it belonged to some other, unhinged woman. “Let’s see…Where to even begin, Fitzwilliam.”