Her Worthy Rake by Charlotte Anne

Author:Charlotte Anne [Anne, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Escape Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The shop was silent when Sherry let himself in through the back door. It was well after ten. The sun had set. The streets were dark, and only a single candle was lit in the back room, leaving most of the machinery and worktables deep in shadow.

Approaching the desk, he unrolled his bundle of old newspapers to reveal three sheets of thick, ivory paper. The dark lines of the inked illustrations were remarkably clear even in the half-light.

‘Two of the Horse Guard at Hyde Park and one of the prison ships at Deptford, as requested,’ he said, in lieu of a proper greeting, and placed the pages on the desk before the printer. ‘Did you want them to start on the plates?’

Penprase set aside the manuscript he’d been perusing and motioned for Sherry to take a seat opposite. He cast the illustrations only a cursory glance. They both knew they were flawless, even Sherry, who had very little knowledge of art and who was just the go-between.

‘Of these? Yes, thanks.’ He poured them both a drink from a flask he kept in his desk drawer, passing it to Sherry along with the previously agreed payment for the illustrations. More would be paid when Sherry returned with the carved copper plates from which the illustrations could be printed.

‘Is something wrong?’ Out of habit, Sherry tugged his cap down, making sure his hair was still covered. Penprase always offered him a drink at these late-night meetings, but he was never this quiet.

After another moment’s silence, Penprase heaved a breath, as if deciding he was finally going to speak. ‘I had someone in the shop the other day, asking me to print wanted posters. She even provided an illustration of the missing man.’

‘So you want me to organise the carving?’ He looked to the framed naval prints on the wall behind Penprase’s desk. ‘Portraits aren’t their usual style, but I’m sure we can manage.’

‘Great.’ Penprase shuffled through the papers on his desk and handed Sherry one from the bottom of the pile, as if Penprase had stuffed it under all the rest of his work to keep anyone else from seeing it.

Sherry looked down at the illustration and his stomach lurched. His own face stared back at him, perfect in very detail. ‘Sophy.’ His sister’s name was a whisper on the air.

‘Did you know she was in London? I thought you said you were from Lincolnshire.’

‘Lancashire,’ he corrected out of habit. ‘I’d heard she was here.’ Somehow, until now, that knowledge hadn’t felt quite real. His twin. Here. In the same city as him. After years apart.

Penprase sat back, nursing his glass in his one good hand. ‘She’s desperate to find you, and at this rate she’ll probably succeed. She’s paying extra to have your hair painted.’

Sherry thrust the illustration back at the printer. ‘Why’d you accept it? You know I don’t want to be found.’

‘If I’d turned her away, she’d only have commissioned another printer. It’s better this way.’

‘Better for who? You?’ Sherry stood up, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor.

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