Free No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane) by S.N. Clemens

one or a subtle way to confront him. “Just Blessed
Heart . It was the only one I could find in print.”
    “Yeah. There
haven’t been any current paperback editions of her novels yet. I hope there
will be soon. What did you think of it?”
    Put on the
spot, Andrew told her the truth. “Not my kind of reading. Too much talk of
dances and suitors and dowries.”
    Helen sniffed
disdainfully. Her expression asked a silent question which Andrew read as wondering
why he wanted the manuscript if he didn’t like reading Bale’s work, but she
didn’t actually voice it.
    “Cane College
has an incredible collection of Bale artifacts,” Helen said, pitching her voice
so that Thomas could hear as she continued rifling through the old papers. “We
have the handwritten manuscripts of her two other novels, Blessed Heart and Noon Light . We have dozens of letters she wrote to some important
literary figures of the time, including William Wordsworth. We, of course, have
first editions of each of her books. We have an original sketch drawn of her.
We even have some of her clothing and the writing desk she used.”
    Andrew frowned
as the list continued. He intuitively understood why Helen was saying all of
this. She was trying to make it clear that the library was the most appropriate
place for the manuscript—to convince either him or Thomas.
    “There are very
few historical figures where all of the artifacts are in one collection,” he
said, his voice a little cool. “One can hardly expect to get everything.” He’d
been making his way through his own stack of papers, but there was nothing
relevant. Most of it was far too late to be of interest.
    Helen gave him
a narrow-eyed look, her chin sticking out slightly. “Well, that’s all the more
reason for us to try to get everything we can on Bale. To make it accessible to
the scholars who are starting to do important work on her.”
    This time, her
words were an obvious challenge. Growing annoyed, Andrew answered it. “You have
no idea whether I’d be willing to make the manuscript accessible to scholars or
not.”
    “That’s the point.
A private collector can do whatever he wants. He can destroy it if he wants
to.”
    “Do you really
think someone would pay a substantial price for a manuscript and then just
destroy it?”
    Helen’s cheeks
had flushed, and a few strands of her hair had escaped her ponytail.
Impatiently, she pushed them away. “You’re intentionally missing my point. I’m
not saying it’s likely. I’m just proving there are no safeguards on a private collector,
nothing to demand the manuscript be kept safe and accessible.”
    “Whereas all
libraries, of course, can guarantee its absolute safety.” There was an edge now
to his voice, as Andrew grew more and more exasperated with the woman’s
obstinacy.
    “At least
libraries try to do what’s best for literary history, instead of hoarding
manuscripts away as invest—“ She cut herself off abruptly and stared down at
the sheathe of papers in her lap. She was clearly fuming, but trying to control
herself.
    He knew how she
felt. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on believing the worst of him and
his intentions and wouldn’t even allow the possibility that he had the
manuscript’s best interests in mind.
    When she’d
smiled at him last night, he’d thought she was growing to like him. At least a
little. And it was like a kick in the gut that she was now back at his throat
again.
    He needed the
manuscript. He couldn’t let it go. And he’d obviously been wrong to hope that,
once she got to know him, Helen would be willing to back down.
    ***
    Helen had been hoping that Andrew
would back down.
    They’d ended
the previous night on much better terms than before. As she’d left, the look in
his eyes had held both warmth and a soft wistfulness she’d found unbearably
appealing.
    She knew him to
be an intelligent man who appreciated books and learning, and she’d thought
he’d see reason