Andromeda didn’t quite know what she was doing with these letters. She had thought to send one or two. Charming missives to put a smile on Mercy’s face. The nervy woman had obviously been hurt in the past. Andromeda had wanted to soothe that hurt, and then…what exactly?

When she was inventive and impulsive with her dress designs, she often succeeded, but that was because she was working from a basic template. She already knew the approximate shape of the finished product, and when she’d have to cut the final thread. What she had started with Mercy had no such set ending point. She was weaving instead of sewing now, and that was a task she’d never before attempted.

When Mercy had finally responded, the reply had been surprisingly short, given her obvious affinity for writing. But it hadn’t been a rejection. Mercy had proven herself more than capable of serving up cutting remarks, so Andromeda had taken heart in the lack of them.

There had been a shyness to the letter that Andromeda had found endearing. And the next time Mercy had written there had been less formality, more words, and more…Mercy.

Dear Andromeda,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am glad to hear that you are kept so busy with your business pursuits. I’m sure the costumes for the players will be more than adequate. I have seen only two of your designs, but they were both pleasing to the eye. Although I rebuffed your previous offer, I am indeed in need of a new dress.

Any news about the building you seek to purchase? It seems such a brave venture, buying your own building and starting not one but two businesses. I always thought of ownership as something for other people, so much so that I forget it’s something afforded to us, too. It seems I’ve been mistaken in my assumptions about many things.

Your obedient servant,

Mercy

* * *

Dear Andromeda,

Last night I went into the garden with Miss Angelica to watch the meteor shower. Did you see it? I imagine perhaps you were up to something more enjoyable; if you were, you missed quite the sight.

For a while, clouds obscured our view, but then a fortuitous wind pushed them onward in their journey, revealing the brilliant star-studded night sky. Most of the stars appeared to be stationary, except for a few that seemed to tremble with excitement for the descent of their brethren, making their final journey. We waited, and waited, and we were rewarded. One, two, three—too many to count. Brilliant, beautiful streaks of light! My heart leapt in my chest that such magnificence might exist and that I might look upon it. It was the second time I have encountered that particular sensation in recent memory.

Yours cordially,

Mercy

Mercy’s letters, read sequentially, were like a flower unfolding, petal by petal. Andromeda wanted more; she wanted the full bloom.

She had more pressing matters to attend to, though, like speaking with Mr. Porter about the purchase of the building. She reminded herself of that as she waited outside the office of the man who held that goal in his hands.

The door to the office pulled open and he stuck his lined face through the door. “Miss Stiel?”

“Mr. Porter. How good to see you.” She smiled.

He didn’t return the sentiment, simply turned and went into the office, waving over his shoulder for her to follow him.

“I was hoping we’d be able to discuss the finalities of the purchase,” she said. “I have plans that I’d like to jump into right away, you see. There’s work to be done to get the place fit for letting and—”

“I do believe you’re getting ahead of yourself, Miss Stiel,” Mr. Porter interrupted. He leaned back in his chair. “I have other offers for the building. Offers from people with a bit more standing than you.”

Anger rose up in Andromeda, trying to escape from her lips, but she was impulsive, not self-destructive. Getting something from him that he didn’t want to give her would be worth more than allowing him to write her off so easily.

She turned doe eyes on him.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Porter. You know as well as I do that my current business is one of the anchors of the neighborhood. I provide work for young women, give back to the community, and I’m seen as a knowledgeable businessperson. I know everyone in a mile radius, and what’s more, they know me and they like me—or at the very least they respect me. I doubt anyone else wanting to buy can say the same.”

“No one else wanting to buy is an unmarried Negress,” he said, his tone suggesting he’d listed not one but two faults in her character.

“Oh, how sad for them,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She was bothered, but she couldn’t even get angry at this because people underestimating her usually worked out for her, when all was said and done. She got what she wanted and they learned not to let their prejudices blind them to the obvious—that Andromeda Stiel was a force to be reckoned with.

“I currently own and operate one successful business as an unmarried Negress. Is there something about owning a boarding house that requires either acquiring a husband or transforming into a…what is the word you’d use for the white counterpart of a Negress?” She looked at him expectantly. Waited.

He shifted in his seat and made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a sneeze. “Selling to an unattached woman of any persuasion is not something to be taken lightly.”

Andromeda tried to look thoughtful, though the only thing she was thinking was how fine it would be to stick this man with a straight pin in a sensitive area. “Once the building is sold, it has nothing to do with you. I absolutely won’t let it go to ruin, but what business would it be of yours after the exchange of money?”

She had enough money. More than enough. She had been working years now, and in addition to her shop, she’d invested in other businesses—those of washerwomen, cobblers, domestics, and many more—always getting her money back with interest. She was not rich, but she was certainly well positioned to buy the building and turn it into a boardinghouse that would be affordable, safe, and clean for the people of the Montgomerie.

“Miss Stiel, I’ll be frank. I don’t give two figs whether you are married, or going to be married. I’m unmarried myself.” Andromeda resisted the urge to look about his messy office and kept her gaze trained on him. “But it’s not just me. There are partners, bankers, people who simply won’t take the risk. If the property were to devalue afterwards, or if you were to get with child and lose the ability to bring in income—”

“Mr. Porter, there’s little chance of that happening and you know it.” She smiled, but she could feel the tension around her eyes from trying not to glare at him.

He sighed. “In making business decisions, it pays to go with the lowest risk. That is not you, Miss Stiel. Unless you have plans you haven’t told me about. Plans that I could pass on to anyone who might share my reservations, perhaps?”

He gave her a curious look, and Andromeda realized that she hadn’t just found an opening—the codger had given it to her. She galloped straight into it.

“I do actually. I’ve been talking to a childhood sweetheart from home about our future, and it seems our affections have not waned. There’s to be a marriage soon, you see, so there’s actually nothing to keep me from buying.”

“Excellent. And you’ll be able to provide evidence of this?” He raised bushy white brows.

Andromeda gave him a tight smile. “Of course.”

Her childhood sweetheart had herself just been engaged, but Andromeda would make it work. Failure wasn’t an option.

She left Mr. Porter’s office and headed back to her shop, turning over plans in her head.

“There’s a letter come for you, miss,” Tara said when she walked in.

Andromeda snatched it from the girl, then gave her an apologetic look. Tara simply shook her head and walked away.

Mercy.

No. She felt a brief disappointment when she realized it was from someone else—her letter should have arrived days ago. Her spirits lifted when she recognized her grandfather’s handwriting. She perused the short note, trying to make sense of the words. It seemed Grandma Kate had taken ill. She was recovering, but it still left Andromeda unsettled.

“I’ll have to head up to Suffolk to visit my family again, Tara,” she said. “Will you be able to handle things here?”

“Yes, miss. And my sister can come in, too, if you want.”

“That would be perfect,” Andromeda said. “I should only be gone a few days.”

She thought of her childhood sweetheart up in Suffolk, and her fiancé and his new profession, and a devious smile worked its way across Andromeda’s face.

If luck was on her side, she might have found the solution to her problem.