Chapter 39
Vronsky didn’t seem to appreciate that finding a willing publisher was a stroke of luck. When Aurelia told him about Oliver later that night, he took it as a matter of course that someone wanted to publish his life story.
After reading through Oliver’s notes on her own, Aurelia had made a plan to tell Vronsky about him and to introduce his notes one at a time.
She would get a read on Vronsky’s reaction to each one before she moved on to the next.
Then, if he approved of Oliver’s major suggestions, they could start flipping through the manuscript to review his other notes.
Aurelia almost laughed when she realized she’d landed on the same approach Oliver had used with her.
Once she and Vronsky were sitting at her desk, she shared Oliver’s first note, about how long it took to get him from Russia, to Italy, and then to France.
Vronsky listened carefully, then said, “It may have been important for you and I to understand exactly what happened, but readers may prefer a condensed account of my travels. The real focus, as we know now, will be my life in France, therefore I agree with this Oliver. Let us cut to the chase, as they say.”
“I guess that’s true. Readers don’t necessarily need to know every step you took to get to France.”
She frowned, confused by her sudden agreement with feedback that, when she’d first heard it, had been hard to take.
“Precisely. You have the meat of the thing—I’ll leave you to trim the fat.” Vronsky waved a hand dismissively.
He was using Oliver’s metaphors, which made Aurelia think how much more efficient it would be if only Oliver and Vronsky could sit down to talk about the manuscript without her.
“Alright, I’ll work on cutting it down tomorrow,” she said.
“What other notes did this publisher have to offer?” Vronsky asked as he settled deeper into his chair.
“He thinks your stay in Italy is too boring,” Aurelia said, deciding to take the gloves off now.
“Well, I am not visiting casinos or bordellos, but those are hardly palatable pastimes for our readership.”
Aurelia couldn’t help letting off a snort at the word ‘bordellos’ and he narrowed his eyes in mock disapproval.
“If you are trimming the fat to get me to France, perhaps that will cure some of his boredom, eh?”
“Sure, I’ll try to keep only the most exciting bits of your time in Italy.”
She couldn’t hide her sarcasm but at least resisted the urge to mention that wouldn’t leave them with much since painting and visiting stables wasn’t exactly the stuff of high drama.
“We’ve made quick work of his notes, haven’t we?”
Vronsky sat up, looking satisfied with himself. Now was the moment to raise the prospect of writing a love interest for him, but Aurelia felt her throat tighten. She didn’t want to hurt Vronsky and knew it would upset him, but she had to admit that her own feelings were at play too.
As a reader, she felt invested in his relationship with Anna.
It was one thing to want him to move on and build a new life for himself, but another to imagine him running off with a new woman after losing her.
Her mother’s words came back to her once again: a love that powerful is written in indelible ink.
For Aurelia, her mother’s death felt just like that.
It was a loss that would stay with her forever, written in indelible ink across the pages of her own life.
If Aurelia was still dealing with her own loss, could Vronsky really be ready to move on from his?
“Alexei, he did have some other notes,” she said after a moment.
“Yes?”
Aurelia pulled the manuscript out from a desk drawer, deciding that she might be able to build up to the major edit that hung in the air between them if they started with some of the minor ones.
She pushed aside the scattered papers and books on her desk to make room for the manuscript, and Vronsky watched as she ran her thumb along an edge and flipped through it.
His eyes widened as he took in the red marks that crisscrossed the pages.
“He has a lot to say, this Oliver fellow,” Vronsky observed.
“Oh, yes. He does indeed,” Aurelia said ruefully.
They spent the rest of the evening working their way through the manuscript, debating over which edits to make and which to reject. By the time dawn arrived, they’d spent so much time working on minor changes that Aurelia had completely forgotten to raise that lingering, most significant one.