Page 79 of Deadly Sin
“You wrote the book,” James reminded me as I handed him the manuscript. “Are you very certain that you don’t want credit for it?”
“Quite certain,” I replied. “It’s the book he would have written, even if our writing styles were very different. And I think it will most definitely help sales with his name on it.”
“He was quite well known for his reporting for The Times. And the publisher has agreed to submit a foreword for the book.”
“It should be very successful for you.”
He had then asked me again about writing a series of mystery novels.
“Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has done exceedingly well. I do believe that it is time for a woman mystery writer. And you certainly have the ability as well as the connections with your work with Mr. Brodie.”
I told him I would give it some thought. The idea was most intriguing.
I had Mr. Tavers stop by the bake shop on my return to the Strand, and purchased fresh scones and biscuits.
As I’d left earlier, I got the distinct impression that Rupert was a bit put off that there was nothing for him left from the Public House.
When I finally returned, the post had been delivered, and there was a letter from Lily sent from Edinburgh.
“Perhaps the young miss will be returning soon,” Mr. Cavendish commented.
Or not, as Brodie had reminded me more than once. She was no longer a child but an educated, extremely capable young woman. And from that first note when she left, I knew the reason she’d gone was important to her.
Still...
Brodie had returned from his meeting with Sir Avery at the Agency. For the most part, he had recovered from his encounter with Burke’s murderer, Herr Steiner.
The cut below his left eye had healed, although it had left a pale scar which I thought made him look rather dashing. WhenI had teased him about it, he had looked at me with that dark gaze narrowed and a frown. Broken ribs seemed to have healed as well.
Papers on the desk lay before him as he leaned an elbow on the chair’s arm, chin propped on his hand, deep in thought.
I set my umbrella in the stand, then crossed the office and laid my bag atop my desk.
“I delivered the manuscript to James. He was quite excited to receive it.”
Brodie’s response was a mumbled reply.
“He made the suggestion again that I consider writing mystery novels.” No response this time as I removed my jacket and hung it on the back of my desk chair.
“How was your meeting with Sir Avery? Is everything all well and good with the end of our case for those stolen documents?”
He finally looked over at me.
“The meeting was not about the case.” He sat back, chin resting on his hand, that dark gaze meeting mine, and that little voice inside whispered there was something more, in that look and in the way he seemed to choose his words.
I called it his ‘inspector’ demeanor, how he must have appeared when reading a case or interrogating a suspect. Each word carefully considered and measured, as now.
“Sir Avery shared that the Agency has been moving into other areas that it oversees. Our recent case became part of that with certain things that affected, not only the Crown, but had the potential to create difficulties elsewhere.”
We had spoken of it afterwards. It was true that several of our cases had included foreign aspects amid growing tensions in Europe and other places.
“He has made a proposal for a new operation within the Agency.”
I was immediately suspicious.
“What sort of proposal...?”
