Enchanted by a Lady's Talent: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  “You do? What sort of surprise?” she asked.

  “Well, if I tell you now, it would no longer be a surprise. I simply need you to be patient with me. I promise you that you are going to be delighted, but I need you to come and I hope that you will bring your mother and father. They are going to be proud of you.”

  “Proud of me?” she asked. For a moment, she had hoped that this surprise was somehow related to marriage, but now it appeared that it was more to do with the book. Pippa wondered what he had in mind until it finally hit her.

  Clearly, he was eager for her to see that he had, indeed, kept his promise.

  “Yes, they will be proud of you when they come that evening. But you cannot see the surprise until the evening when the book is published,” he explained.

  Yes, that had to be it. He had put her name on the cover as they had discussed. Because she had not believed him the day before, it was now a grand surprise for her to see that it really had been done and he hoped that her mother and father would be proud of her, although Pippa was still very frightened for them to find out the truth of what she had been doing, spending time with Mr. Brooks.

  Nevertheless, Pippa was quite proud of herself as well. She was glad to know that this book was finally going to come out and it would be read by such magnificent men from the city. She hoped that their wives and daughters would have the opportunity to read it as well and that, maybe, one day they would be inspired to write novels of their own.

  She really did believe that this could be an event which would change the culture. If Mr. Brooks honoured his promise by putting her name on the front of the book, no one would stand against him.

  Everything would come together.

  Chapter 37

  It was the evening of the release of the book. Pippa was terribly nervous. She could not believe that it had finally come around. The night when everyone would get their hands on this volume which meant so much to her.

  So much work had gone into it and it had been a life changing event to work on the project with Mr. Brooks. Although it had been nearly a week since the incident with George Sinclair, Pippa still had not quite processed everything which had taken place. Even Fiona was shocked that so much drama had occurred.

  But for an author like Pippa, it was only a strange part of her life which she was determined to use as inspiration in the days to come. She hoped that she would actually be able to create a character like George, someone who was unstable and in love. It would not be a romantic tale, but rather a book with thrills and twists and turns. She would create great depths and tragedies for the characters to overcome as they tried to avoid being overrun by the madman.

  That evening, it was all out of Pippa’s mind and out of her control. She just wanted to enjoy the evening at the bookshop when the book was finally debuted before all of London.

  Her mother and father had been invited, personally, by Mr. Brooks. Although they did not know anything more than that he was the man from the ball they had attended, they seemed rather fond of him. Pippa wondered if all of that would change when they learned that this event was for the release of a book which he and Pippa had been working on together.

  Would they be furious? Proud? Confused?

  She couldn’t be sure, but no matter what, she was going to find out.

  “Ah, here it is,” her mother said when they approached the shop. “I assume you have been here before?”

  “Yes, Mother. This is my favourite bookshop. It is the best in all of London,” Pippa answered.

  “Interesting. Oh, my goodness! It is terribly crowded,” her mother said.

  It truly was. Pippa could hardly believe it. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. There were easily eighty or ninety people. All of them men.

  All except one young girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, seated right in the middle of the room. Whomever she was, Pippa was proud of her for not trying to hide in the back. She was a beautiful young woman and held her head high. A man seated next to her stood up and went to inspect the windows. Pippa could not be sure as to why, but she saw him nod in satisfaction before returning to his seat.

  “Where are we to go?” her mother asked.

  “Here,” she replied, taking them to a spot with three seats all together.

  “Very well. This looks all right, I suppose. Good enough, anyway,” her mother said.

  “Yes, Mother, it is. Now, get comfortable. I do not know what Mr. Brooks has planned,” she said.

  “What?” her father asked in a loud, astonished voice.

  “Father? What is it?” Pippa asked.

  He stood up and rushed to the front of the room where the books were stacked up high. He took one copy in his hand and then stared at Pippa.

  She shrunk in her seat, assuming he had seen that Mr. Brooks put her name as the co-author.

  Just then, before her father could ask her anything further, Mr. Brooks made his way towards the front and everyone settled down. Pippa’s father rushed back to his seat, but he continually looked at her with shock in his eyes. She realised that she may very well be in deep trouble, but Pippa could not give herself a moment to pause and worry.

  If her father were angry, he would have to hold onto that anger until the end of the evening. There was too much at stake for him to take her away from there in that moment and Pippa was glad that he had never been one for drama. There was no chance that he was going to create a scene.

  “Good evening, gentlemen and the few, brave, and most welcome, ladies. I am so delighted to see you all here this evening. Many of you have heard the hype of this new novel, Eliza. You are aware that it is a tale which is likely to set a new standard to the writing skill we see throughout our great country,” he said.

  “But what very few of you are aware of—and what many of you have been shocked by this evening and have asked me about—is the fact that there is the name of another woman written on this cover. Eliza is not our only cover-holder. Well, you are correct to be surprised. But I should like to reveal a very great piece of intrigue this evening,” Mr. Brooks continued.

  Pippa sat as still as she possibly could. She was terribly anxious, wondering if he was about to announce that she was the co-author. For a moment, she almost hoped that he would not.

  “The reading of this novel is about to begin. I should be most delighted to welcome our reader to the front as it is going to be read by the young woman who actually wrote this book,” Mr. Brooks said.

  Pippa’s skin prickled all over. She could hardly believe it. Was he actually going to call her to the front and make her read the first chapter of the novel in front of all these people?

  “Miss Pippa Blackwell, would you please come to the front?” he asked.

  A round of confused and hesitant clapping sounded and Pippa pulled herself into a standing position. She was numb all over; such was the nature of her nerves. Her mother and father both stared at her with shock, but she made her way to the front of the room, regardless.

  “Thank you, Miss Blackwell. I am so glad that you are here this evening and that you are able to read to us from your most magnificent work,” Mr. Brooks said.

  He handed Pippa a copy of the book and she looked at the cover. All at once, she was overcome with emotion.

  Eliza

  By Pippa Blackwell

  -with Doyle Brooks

  He had listed her as the primary author, leaving himself as merely an afterthought. She opened the cover and saw a handwritten note on the flyleaf.

  My Dearest Pippa,

  Let this be your first copy of the book which we have brought to fruition. I know that it is your book, that you are the one deserving of all the credit. Nevertheless, I thank you for allowing me to come on this journey with you and make this book something truly remarkable.

  You are the most incredible woman I have ever known, and I love you dearly. I love you more than words can say. You are my everything.

  Love,

  Doyle

  She
had to gather herself and choke back the tears which threatened to take hold. Pippa thought she might break, that she might lose all self-control there before everyone. And when she turned the page and saw that Doyle had also included a forward which told the story of how the book came to be, how he had discovered the manuscript and they decided to work on it together, she promised that she would save it to read when she was on her own at a later time.

  “Thank you all for coming this evening. I know that it must be a bit of a shock to see that the pages you have read which enticed you to come were written by a young lady. It must be a bit confusing, but if you think you are oblivious to matters, you must take a look at my mother and father,” she said with a laugh.

  A few others turned to them and her mother and father were still sitting there in their confusion but smiled in reply.

  Pippa opened to the first page of the first chapter and began to read aloud.

  “Eliza Collingridge did not expect a visit from the man with the black hat. She did not know that he was coming and she did not know what news he was bringing with him. But when he arrived, she was struck by the little whiskers which sprung unevenly from his chin,” she began.

  “The man smiled at her, standing at the door of her country estate. His smile was one of compassion, of sympathy. There was something about it which Eliza did not trust.

  “‘I beg your pardon but are you Miss Collingridge?’ asked the man with the black hat.

  “‘Mrs.,’ she corrected him. ‘I am Mrs. Collingridge. And who might you be?’

  “‘My name is Wilbur. Gregory Wilbur. I have in my hands the will of your brother, a Mr. Andrew Dixon.’

  The man in the black hat handed over the pages and Eliza was entirely confused. What did Andrew’s will have to do with anything? Why would this man be bringing it to her when Andrew was probably still very much alive with that terrible, Irish wife of his?

  At this, Pippa paused and looked around the room. She saw the way the people looked at her with rapt attention, the way they listened with delight in their faces. Wondering whether they really wanted to hear more, Pippa knew that she had but one choice.

  She had to continue reading. That was the only way. If she continued in her reading, they would continue to listen or they would simply stop. Either way, she would know whether they liked what they heard.

  “‘Your brother, Mrs. Collingridge. He passed away last week, along with his wife,’ the man told her. Eliza stared at him for a moment, not understanding what it was he was saying. The words simply did not make any sense. Why was he telling her this? And how could it be that her brother was dead?

  “But it was clear from that same, placid look of comfort and sympathy that it was true. The man had come to tell her that Andrew and Aoife Dixon were dead.

  “That was how it came to pass. That was the day that my aunt discovered she had inherited two children from the sibling she had come to detest. With all the bitterness that existed between Eliza and my father, this was the day when it would all be tested. This was the day when death would lead to a tale of anger and hatred and the question which haunts us all.

  “How does one truly forgive?”

  Pippa stopped her reading. She did not know how much more she ought to do. Was she finished? That was the end of the prologue of the novel and the next chapter was nearly six-thousand words long, far too much for one sitting that evening.

  She was a bundle of nerves, but when she looked out into the crowd again, she saw that there were faces which held looks of awe and surprise. She saw that her mother was crying, quite openly. Perhaps it was from pride, or maybe because the story began with such a sad, dark opening.

  Whatever it was, Pippa hoped that her mother and father were proud. There was no guarantee that they were, but she still held the hope within her heart that they would be glad that she had created this story and that she had worked so hard to bring it into fruition.

  Slowly, little by little, the crowd began to clap. Mr. Brooks rushed up to be beside her and he clapped as well, a wide grin on his face. She had never been prouder of herself and had never before thought that she was so capable of success and happiness all at once.

  “Thank you all for listening to that remarkable prologue from this novel! Indeed, those of you who decide to purchase the book will read in the introduction the story behind it all. You shall read how I found a manuscript and decided to publish it under my own name until a young woman arrived to tell me just how that would not happen,” he said with a laugh.

  “But Miss Blackwell had written a remarkable tale and I am honoured to have been able to assist her in perfecting it prior to this event and publication. I do hope that you are all hooked enough that you should like to read the next part. As you have read the summary of the story, you know that there is a great deal of intrigue, of disagreement and tension and conflict. You may also know that there is romance, which was a point of our own contention.”

  Pippa laughed with him on that point. It was certainly true that they had disagreed on a great many aspects of the book, but they had now come to a point where they were releasing this wonderful work and many people appeared interested in it.

  “Now, if you would like to buy the book, it is here, available. And if you should like Miss Blackwell to sign your copy, I have a pen and ink ready,” he told them.

  Everyone got up and started moving around, mingling with one another and checking out the novel in order to make their purchases. Mr. Brooks had arranged for James and Clarissa to handle all the transactions, and it meant that he and Pippa were able to speak with her mother and father.

  “So…so this is the skill which you have been begging us to allow?” her mother asked, still emotional.

  “Indeed, Mother. This is what I love, more than anything,” Pippa said.

  “Oh, you are such an excellent author, Pippa. I am so sorry that we did not realise it sooner. I wish that I had listened to you,” her mother said.

  “I understand, Mother. I know that it is not typical of a long lady to be an author and that you had every reason to be dubious about my interest,” Pippa said.

  “No, no. It was wrong of me to try and stop you.”

  “Well, you can make it right this evening by purchasing the book and supporting her now,” Mr. Brooks said.

  “Of course!” her father exclaimed in earnest.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, the truth is that I have asked you both here this evening not only so that you might see and understand that talent of your daughter, but because I have a question which I am eager to ask,” Mr. Brooks said, interrupting everything.

  “Oh? What sort of question?” her mother asked.

  “I do hope that you are already prepared for it. I am in love with your daughter. She means more to me than anything in all this world. I should like to ask if you would consent to my marrying her?”

  Pippa smiled and her heart leapt with joy. She looked to her mother and father who glanced at one another before her father gave a firm nod.

  “Yes, Mr. Brooks. Yes, I believe that is a very good idea.”

  Epilogue

  It was the most incredible day in all his life. Doyle have been waiting for this ever since he had asked for permission to marry the woman of his dreams. And now, it had finally come.

  A small part of him wondered if he could have ever had this happiness if they had not experienced all the trials. Without the strange things which had taken place, would he and Pippa ever have had the opportunity to come together and make something so beautiful?