Chapter 20 – The Printer

Eleanor had her hand on the front door handle when she heard a voice behind her.

“Well, don’t you look lovely this morning.”

She jumped. “Eddie!”

The baron was sitting on the front stairs. A half-eaten apple was in his hand, and he was smiling.

Eleanor looked at the ground. “I’m only going on my walk.”

“You don’t usually wear that kind of dress when you go walking.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this dress!”

“Nothing at all. I told you, you look lovely.” Edward stood up and walked over to the side table. After putting down the apple, he picked up his hat. “Shall we?”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Mother said she caught you looking thoughtful yesterday, so I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight.”

Edward had to keep himself from laughing when he saw the bright pink hue in Eleanor’s cheeks. No doubt she would have said she was angry or frustrated, but the baron had a new respect for whoever coined the word “miffed.”

“Snitch.”

“Hardly! You can blame your own face. Besides, I’m more like a faithful guard dog because she also said I was not allowed to stop you. Make of that what you will.”

That seemed to mollify Eleanor. “Oh, all right. Come on then. Or should I say heel?”

He bowed. “At your service.”

When the gate of the mansion was behind them, Edward said, “So where are we really going?”

“Craft Street.”

Edward thought about it. “All right, I give up. Why?”

“I want to talk to the printers. I want to see if I can find who made the invitations.”

“Eleanor, do you have any idea how many printers work in this city?”

“I know that there are three on Craft Street, and that if anyone knows how many printers work in this city, they do.”

Edward hailed a cab. Since it was horse drawn, they had some time to relax before they reached their destination. The baron leaned back in his seat while Eleanor pulled some papers from her pocket.

One of them was an invitation to her upcoming wedding with the master thief. The others were newspaper clippings. Each one showed the face of one of her suitors.

Eleanor looked up when she heard her cousin laugh.

“Where did you get those?” Edward asked.

“Cook keeps the newspapers. She finds them useful.”

“It’s a good thing we are who we are, or you never would have managed to find those pictures—one of the many advantages of being a Serrs.”

Eleanor looked at her collection. “I couldn’t find one of Mr. Penn. Oh, well. If he did commission them himself, I doubt he would have used his real face.”

The baron had several more chances to reflect on the advantages of being a Serrs as they went around Craft Street. No matter what shop they entered, as soon as someone heard Eleanor’s name, the owner personally came to greet them. None of them had done the printing, but they were all so eager to help, each one managed to think up at least five other places she could try.

The morning was long gone and the baron’s stomach was grumbling about neglect before they were able to track down the printer they were looking for.

He didn’t need to hear Eleanor’s name. He guessed it.

“Excuse me,” she called as she entered the shop.

A man stood up from where he’d been leaning over a work bench, consulting with the craftsman seated there. He came toward them. His stained white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows like all the other printers’, and he wore the typical black apron of his trade, but otherwise, he was a bit of an unexpected beast. He was much taller and broader than anyone else they’d met that morning. His voice was gruff, but he politely wished them a good afternoon.

“I’m looking for Mr. Russel,” Eleanor explained.

“I’m Mr. Russel.”

She put the invitation into his ink-dappled hand. “Are you the man who printed this?”

Mr. Russel gazed at the paper for a long time. Then he raised his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded like a grizzly bear trying to whisper. “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re Lady Serrs.”

Eleanor nodded.

The man sighed. As he did, he caught sight of Edward for the first time. “And you?”

“He’s my cousin,” Eleanor said. “Lord Edward Comtess.”

Mr. Russel nodded. “Your Lordship.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

In spite of the polite greeting, Edward could see the man was uneasy. His massive arms were tense, and he shifted his weight around his feet.

The baron made a quick decision.

“Eleanor, will you be all right without me for a minute? I’d be just outside.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you, Eddie.”

Eleanor tried to communicate her confusion with her expression, but Edward wasn’t watching her. He was watching Mr. Russel. When the baron said he would be outside, he saw the large man relax.

It wasn’t easy for Edward to swing his leg around and take the three steps that brought him back to the door, but he managed it. Eleanor was left alone with the printer.

“This way, please, my lady.” Mr. Russel motioned over to an empty corner of the room.

Once Eleanor was seated, the printer pulled up a bench so he could sit near her.

“That man,” Mr. Russel said, not quite managing to look at her, “he wasn’t a policeman?”

“No.”

His eyes met hers. “And he wasn’t Penn?”

“No, sir. He really is my cousin.”

Mr. Russel nodded, satisfied. Then he said, “Yes, Lady Serrs. I printed those announcements. I wish to god I hadn’t.”

“Why, sir?”

“I read the newspapers. I know what’s been happening.” He rubbed his chin. Judging from the smears of ink on his face, it was a habit. “And I’ve been worried this whole time.”

“You knew they weren’t real?”

“An engagement between Ryce Penn and the daughter of Duke Aubrey-Serrs? Oh, I knew they weren’t real, but I told myself it was only a gag! Then it got serious, and I worried about what might happen to you.”

As he’d been speaking, his voice grew quieter. By the time he finished, his whole demeanor drooped in a full-body frown. Seeing that bear of a printer so miserable made Eleanor’s heart ache.

She tried to think of anything she could say that might distract him.

“May I compliment you on the quality of your work?”

When Mr. Russel looked up in surprise, there was a gentle smile on Eleanor’s face.

He laughed. “You may!”

“They’re beautiful. My friends all commented.”