Page 6 of Wallflower Gone Wild
“Yes, all is well,” her sister replied, a forced smile on her mouth.
Cleo’s chocolate brown skin and thick coils of dark hair were vastly different from Letty’s own countenance. She had always assumed her sister favored her late father, a man her mother rarely ever spoke of and who Cleo had no memory of at all.
Letty raised an eyebrow in challenge, a giggle fighting to break free from her pursed lips. Cleo was not only her sister but also her closest friend. Though they were four years a part, for as long as she could remember, Letty could always depend on her.
“Mr. Meriweather, how is the printing business?” her mother asked Mac, a distasteful wrinkle pinching her nose.
“It’s always a struggle, especially with our stories being a little more sensitive in nature and not filled with gossip as most would prefer.” Mac shifted his weight, his larger body sliding against hers.
“All business is a struggle, and soon you will have one more competitor with our Letty here,” her father said.
The smile on his face was proof of how proud he was of her. His praise and confidence in her made Letty feel like she could do anything. It didn’t matter that she was a mixed-race woman in a society filled with men. The only thing that mattered was her father’s belief in her.
“How wonderful you get to do exactly what you love without any questions or disdain from anyone,” Letty said, before letting out a sigh of need.
That was what she wanted, what she craved more than anything. To do what she pleased and not have to answer for it.
His free hand squeezed hers and she reveled in the connection, longing to be alone with him.
“You will know exactly what it feels like one day.” Mac eyes sparkled with the truth of his words.
His hand stayed on hers, their gazes locked on each other. Everyone in the ballroom faded away and it was just the two of them. She pressed in closer, wishing that they were alone.
A throat cleared, and it hit like a splash of cold water to her skin. When she looked up, Letty found herself now caught in the disapproving scowl of her father.
Oh dear.
Her father, the earl, valued propriety and appearance above all things. It was something he insisted on from Letty.
“You two seem very familiar with one another. Is there some sort of agreement between you?” her brother asked, his voice contemptuous.
“Really, Lord Cedemoor, that is hardly an appropriate question for a young lady of my daughter’s standing,” her mother barked out at Bertram, never allowing the man to mistreat Letty.
“Leticia,” her father said in a sharp tone, his eyes traveling to where Letty and Mac were still connected.
Letty removed her arm from Mac’s, taking a step towards her sister, who eyed her knowingly.
“When does the next publication of The Hard Truth, come out, Mr. Meriweather?” Cleo inquired, interrupting the silence in their small circle.
Clearing his throat, Mac folded his arms over his broad chest, a few of his fingers smudged with ink. “Once every third Sunday of the month. That gives my brother, Mr. Gilbert Meriweather, and I the opportunity to gather and report at least two weeks before we prepare for print.”
“How exciting that you work with your brother. I admire you for doing exactly what you love and for such a noble cause,” Letty responded, wishing more people had the courage to fight for the freedom of every enslaved man, woman, and child.
Her father contributed to several abolitionist organizations, but that was the extent of her family’s involvement. With her inheritance and dowry, Letty would be able to help women and create something good with her money instead of passing it on to a husband to control.
“I’m devoted to the cause. No one should be property. And I’ll continue to fight until my dying breath,” he said with a passion in his eyes so fierce it made Letty see a different side to Mac Meriweather.
She knew the man that loved his print shop, and envied his commitment to freedom. Letty had already admired him but hearing him speak so ferociously about the cause raised him in her esteem. If that was at all possible.
“Thank you, Mr. Meriweather, for escorting Lady Leticia safely back to us.” Her mother’s voice made it clear that their time together was done. “Lady Leticia, I believe Oakfield wanted to share a waltz with you.”
Bristling at the mention of Baron Oakfield, she tried to ignore her mother’s conduct. Letty detested when her mother behaved in such a manner. Did the woman not remember that she was born without a farthing to her name? Mac might be a third son, but he was a man of honor.
“The pleasure was all mine.” He bowed to her mother, before facing Letty. “Lady Leticia, I look forward to seeing you again.”
Releasing her lower lip from the confines of her teeth. Letty forced herself to respond. “As do I,” she whispered, feeling the heavy gaze of every member of her family.
He tilted his head to her in acknowledgement before he left her alone with her family. As Letty watched him leave, she warred with her mind and her body. Her mind wanted to stay the course with her business plan to create her magazine, but her body longed for that man to stay at her side—and never leave.