By Helene Matheson
He was a child.
The informant stealthily making his way into the offices of London’s most popular scandal newspaper at one o’clock in the morning was a child. Good Lord, what had this world come to? The owner of The Whispers of the Ton sat down in the editor’s chair and waited for the boy with his cap down low on his forehead to stroll into the office and take a seat across the desk.
“You’re the informant who insisted on meeting with the owner?”
“That’s right,” he replied in an overly thick Cockney accent as he lifted his chin with a rare confidence for a child. The move still didn’t expose his face.
“And what possible information can be so scandalous that you must meet with me at such an uncivilized hour?”
“I ‘ave an etching that will be perfect for your rag.”
“Newspaper.”
“What?”
A sigh tore through the owner’s chest. “I said it was a newspaper, not a rag.”
“Right. Are ye interested?”
“No, thank you, young man. I already have an artist who works for my newspaper.”
The boy snorted. “Me three-year-old sista could draw better than that hack. I’m speakin’ of real artistic talent.”
The image of a three-year-old little girl, drawing on a pest-riddled floor while dressed in clothing as filthy as this young boy’s, gave the owner pause. It couldn’t hurt to hear him out. “Who is the artist?”
“Can’t say.”
“What do you mean you can’t say? You’re here to sell his work.”
The boy merely shrugged. “The etching will double yer sales.”
“I seriously doubt that.” The owner held out a hand. “Let me see what you’ve got.”
The boy hesitated and then pulled a parcel from inside the coal blackened jacket he wore. The etching was wrapped in an old remnant of clothing that was surprisingly clean. He gently pulled the etching out, and slid the block of wood across the desk.
Gazing down at the etching of a nearly nude gentleman being carried down a staircase on a palanquin was the last thing the owner expected to see. The scantily clad lady watching the entire scene was even more surprising, but the fire and the infamous parrot flying above the gentleman identified the male subject.
“Are you telling me the Earl of Astley was in his townhouse at the time of the fire?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s the strumpet?”
The boy bristled. “She ain’t no strumpet.”
“She’s not his mother or his sister. Who is she?”
“Don’t rightly know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ifin’ I was, don’t matter none. Ye interested in the etching or not?”
The etching was good, really good. And a true-life image of one of the most sought after gentlemen of the ton with his chest bared—was priceless. A gorgeous doxy watched him being rescued from the fire in the fashion besetting a king made it more valuable. Publishing this piece of art would be too titillating for anyone to pass up. The publication would outsell any previous paper sold, and people would want more.
“No,” the owner said and slid the etching back across the desk.
“No?” The boy’s voice squeaked.
Good. “No. One etching will cause the public to want more. It will end up hurting my newspaper more than helping it if I can’t offer more in the future.”
The boy didn’t hesitate. “What if I could git more?”
“You know the artist that well?”
The boy gave a simple and quick nod.
“I’ll have to meet him.”
“No.”
“How can I trust that you didn’t steal this from some starving artist?”
“Ye can’t.”
“Then tell me about yourself. What’s your name?”
“Robbi.”
“What’s your family name, Robbi?”
The slight hesitation indicated the boy was about to lie. “Salisbury.” The name proved it.
The owner grinned. Robbi grinned without showing his teeth. “At least you have a sense of humor, but…can you acquire more etchings of gentlemen of the ton in their private homes?”
The boy’s grin slipped as he bit his lip and thought about it for a moment. “Yep.”
“Who?”
“Are the Duke of Ross, the Earl of Dorset and Viscount Pembrock good ‘enuff?”
“That’s quite an array of aristocracy.”
“Ye in or out?” Robbi asked as he began carefully wrapping up the block of wood as if it were a priceless piece of glass.
The owner of The Whispers of the Ton put a hand on Robbi’s, preventing him from taking the etching and placing it in his coat. “I will need an etching of Ross prior to the publication of this one, and only then will I pay for either etching.”
Robbi’s full-blown smile displayed surprisingly white teeth. If the rest of his face was anything like his smile, he was a beautiful child. The boy reached into the opposite side of his coat and pulled a second parcel from within. He took just as much care with the second etching before handing it across the desk. The second etching, although not as scandalous, was of the Duke of Ross and the duke was gazing up at the viewer as if he wanted to strip the viewer’s clothing from her body.
“You are an excellent negotiator, Robbi.”
“We ‘aven’t agreed on a price.”
“A pound an etching. That’s my final offer.”
Robbi stood and reached across the desk to shake the owner’s hand. “Deal.”
As the owner extended a hand, the brim of Robbi’s hat was conveniently dislodged and dark curls tumbled down around the youth’s shoulders. The owner locked onto Robbi’s hand before she could run for the door. “This is a partnership of trust. You know my identity, and now I know yours…Miss Robina Blair.”
“That was a dirty trick.”
“When you do business in the dark, you must expect to be dealt a dirty hand,” the owner of The Whispers of the Ton smiled down at the angry miss. “Our collaboration will be profitable for us both.”
Miss Blair snatched her hand back before grabbing her cap and taking a step backward. “I require immediate payment.”
“Of course.” The owner reached into the desk and pulled the necessary funds from the middle drawer then passed the pound notes to the young miss. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Miss Blair.”
“The feeling is not mutual,” Robbi sneered and stormed out of the paper.
I hope you enjoyed my interview between the youngest Blair sister from my Scandalous Sisters series and the owner of the scandal sheet, The Whispers of the Ton which is featured throughout the series. The fourth book in the series, The Wicked Baroness, released last week! Happy reading!
Want to know more about The Wicked Baroness?
A scandalous widow. A wounded spy. And a passion that could expose a deadly conspiracy.
Simon Clark, Earl of Astley, is London’s most notorious rogue—and a spy for the Crown whose rescue from a French prison may have come too late. His memory is fractured, his enemies are closing in, and the secrets he uncovered could cost him his life.
Lady Caillen Griffith never expected to see Astley again. Once he was a menace to her peace; now he is the man who saved her life the night she lost everything. Widowed and determined to uncover the truth behind her father’s death, Caillen appoints herself Astley’s caretaker—whether the infuriating earl wants her help or not.
Forced together beneath one roof, old clashes ignite into something far more dangerous. Simon is determined to revive the fire he sees buried beneath Caillen’s grief—but the deeper she digs into classified information, the more lethal the truth becomes.
Because someone will kill to keep those secrets buried… and loving each other may be the greatest risk of all.
The Wicked Baroness by Helene Matheson delivers a gripping Regency romance where espionage, danger, and desire collide.
PERFECT FOR READERS WHO LOVE
– Regency romances with espionage and intrigue
– Brooding heroes with dangerous secrets
– Widowed heroines rediscovering love
– Murder mysteries woven into historical romance
– Emotional slow-burn passion with high stakes
Meet Helene Matheson:
After following her childhood dream to serve and protect, Helene retired from public service and began a new dream—creating happily ever afters. First publishing in mystery and romantic suspense, she decided to add her love of travel and history to her personal oeuvre. From the first page to the last, Helene promises to take you on a journey to arouse your imagination and capture your heart.
When she’s not writing or researching her next novel, she can be found rummaging through antique stores, estate sales, and flea markets looking for that next piece of inspiration.
You can find Helene on her website, as well as on Facebook, Instagram, and Bookbub!
