“The Lady Who Would Be King…” He placed the manuscript on the table. One hand still holding her arm, he used the other to flip through the pages. “Interesting title. What is it about?”
She swallowed, her eyes flicking to his hand. “It is a satirical story about a young lady who…” She gently tried to pull her arm free, but his grip was strong. “… poses as a duke, soon finds herself in line for the throne, and… and…” She swallowed again. “Through certain circumstances, he ends up as the King of England, all while pretending to be a man.”
He chuckled. “How amusing.”
“It is supposed to be a reflection on societal expectations and, ah…” Again, she tried to peel her arm free to no avail. “What it means to be a woman, how one is viewed, and what one might be capable of, was she not held back by her gender?”
“As I said…” He flipped through the pages. “Obviously written by a woman. Oh yes…” He flipped through a few more. “Your writing is rather… quaint. In a good way. You refrain fromexaggerated prose, simple writing, but with purpose. Oh yes… humorous too. Very good.”
“You like it?”
“Very much.”
Her heart soared at the praise, such that she was almost able to ignore the way he continued to grip her arm. It seemed purposeful, as if he suspected she might turn around and flee at any moment.
“So, what happens now?” she asked, glancing around, her nerves rising. “Would you like to take it home with you and read it? I would value your opinion.”
“You wish to be published, do you not?” He stopped reading and looked up at her. Expression flat, eyes narrowed, a crooked smile on his lips. “Is that not the goal?”
“That is the dream.”
“A rather outlandish one, as I am sure you know. We do not publish female authors. Few do.”
“But you would not be publishing a female author,” she pointed out, again pulling on her arm to no avail. “It would be Henry Monroe who is published.”
Mr. Ramsay laughed and shook his head, his grip tightening on her. “That is true enough. ButIwould know the truth, and gosh darn, I just do not know if my conscience would allow such a thing. A shame too, as this is a brilliant work and it should be read by as many eyes as are capable of such a thing.”
“Oh…” Her mouth turned dry, and her tongue felt swollen. “What… I do not… If only you and I know?—”
“A secret, you are saying?” He flashed his beady eyes at her again. “Yes, I can agree to such a thing. However…” He stepped into her, pulling her to him. “Only for a price.”
It was only then that Helena realized the trap that she was in. One that, she was embarrassed to admit, she had set herself and then walked right into.
For years, she worked so hard to keep her secret safe, knowing what would happen if her parents found out—how embarrassed they would be, not to mention ashamed. And in one fell swoop, that secret was now threatened to be exposed because the single person who knew about it… as clear as it had now become, was not nearly as honorable as she might have liked.
They were alone. Mr. Ramsay knew who she was, just as he knew how desperate she was to keep anyone else from finding out. So desperate, in fact, that he likely thought he could do and say what he wanted without having to worry about it coming back to haunt him.
And as he gripped her arm, as he pulled her into his body, as he looked at her with those wicked eyes, Helena did not doubt that he was willing to ask a most terrifying price for his discretion.
“I… Mr. Ramsay, there is no need to…” She tried to pull free, but he refused to let go. “Please, you are hurting me.”
“Just as you are hurting my feelings,” he purred. “Come now, Lady Helena, you are not being very reasonable. I want to help you with this—truly, I do. But seeing the danger it presents, surely I am owed something.”
“Please…”
“I would hate to tell the world who you are.” The gentleness in his voice faded, replaced by a sharp edge. “To reveal your secret. Which I will do, unless you make it worth my while.”
She was trembling. Terror coursing through her body.
Again, she tried to pull free, trapped and alone and without recourse. How could she have been so stupid?
“So, what is it going to be?” he growled. “Shall I reveal your secret? Or are you going to play nice?”
“I suggest you unhand the lady at once,” a deep voice spoke from the shadows. “If you do not,niceis as far removed from how I intend to deal with you as exists in this world.”
Mr. Ramsay gasped in surprise. He did not let go of her arm, but he turned to see who had spoken. His mouth dropped open as from the shadows emerged a man whom Helena recognized immediately.
She wondered if perhaps she was better off with Mr. Ramsay.
