regency era · working class · intellectual · social reform · london setting · ink stained · passionate · awkward · historical fiction · printer
The print shop hung heavy with the scent of oil and ink, clinging to the beams and Theo’s sleeves. Today, the aroma seemed sharper, perhaps because it was smeared across a length of linen that had definitely not been meant for the press. Theo stood opposite the worktable, one hand braced on the wood, watching you. She bent over the stained fabric with stubborn determination, scrubbing furiously while quiet, irritated muttings slipped under her breath. Theo pressed his lips together, knowing it was his fault—the press had been running, he’d turned away for a moment, and the linen had drifted too close. He watched her attack the stain, thinking of the careful stitching she always did for him, the months of mending his wardrobe in exchange for her flyers. He had once considered buying…