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“Your sister said you were in here working,” Ruby told him.
Theo continued annotating the notebook he’d been writing in, the words pouring from the tip of his pen in a slow, steady stream as ink transformed itself into his eminently readable hand. She knew that she was interrupting his studies, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’ve come?” Ruby demanded, her irritation growing by the second.
“I assumed you would tell me whether I asked or not,” Theo told her with a small, impertinent smile.
“They’ve all refused me.” Ruby threw herself into the nearby armchair. “It’s now official. Every single reputable paper in town has rejected me. I just received the Sun’s rejection this afternoon. They publish the absolute rubbish that Sam Watson spouts on a regular basis, but they rejected my article about the gala outright. Can you imagine?”
“Not at all, darling. You’re only going after the most powerful men in the city.”
Ruby knew that Theo was her greatest supporter—had been since they were children—but his words still rankled. “Who are they to deny the people of this city the truth?” She felt her indignation rise once more.
“Who indeed?” He finished the line he was writing and set the pen on the table before looking up at her.
“They’re a bunch of cowards. All of them,” Ruby said, still stewing with anger. “And I told the editor, Mr. Bartleby, so myself.”
Theo frowned at that piece of information. “You did what?”
“I marched straight into the Sun’s office and demanded to see the editor. They told me I had to have an appointment,” she muttered. “An appointment, if you can believe that!”
“What a novel idea,” Theo mused.
“This isn’t a joke to me, Theo.” Ruby felt her shoulders sink right along with her spirits.
“I never said it was, darling,” Theo said. “I’m merely imagining you storming into the offices of the Sun like an avenging Valkyrie. Did you finally manage to see Mr. Bartleby?”
Ruby deflated a little more. “No. He refused to meet with me, but I stood my ground. I told them exactly what I thought of their editorial choices.”
“You didn’t.” His mouth kicked up a little.
“Do not mock me, Barclay.” Then her temper faltered a little. “I couldn’t bear it if you thought I was a joke too.”
Theo’s expression softened. “I would never think that of you. But you had to expect this would happen,” he said, his smile fading. “I read your piece. It was wonderfully brave and honest, but the Order’s reach is long.”
Ruby let out a tired breath. The members of the Order might be some of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the city, but she had truly believed that publishers would want the truth. At the very least, she’d expected that Hearst and Pulitzer and all the rest would have craved the sales the headlines would have inspired. But one after another had slammed the door in her face.
“I’m not going to give up,” she said, pulling her wits about her.
“That’s my girl—”
“I’m going to try the Spectacle,” she told him, glancing up to see what his reaction would be.
Theo’s mouth fell open a little. “That’s a terrible idea, Ruby.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. “What choice do I have?”
“The Spectacle is nothing more than a gossip rag,” Theo said as though Ruby needed to be reminded. “If they do accept your piece, you’ll never be taken seriously again.”
He was right, of course. Only the desperate or the stupid believed anything in the Spectacle, and once R. A. Reynolds was associated with it, her career would be over before it had even truly begun.
“Maybe I think it’s worth the risk,” she told him, trying to sound confident and failing miserably.
Theo’s expression shifted, and his voice was softer when he spoke. “There are other ways to reach her, darling.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ruby said, straightening a little.
“Ruby, when have you ever been able to hide anything from me?” Theo asked.
