“It is a rhetorical question. One you answered with sufficient glibness for it to border on insulting,” he said. His amusement softened the tartness of his statement.
“Glibness isn’t the appropriate word. Glibness implies my question was thoughtless, superficial, or insincere. I can assure you, it was none of those. I simply wished for clarity. I am sorry if I insult.” Surrounded by stacks of paper, I felt rather trapped. It didn’t help that I found his physical appearance arresting. The warmth inside my core increased, and I wished I could peel off my wool coat, even though the room was cool.
“It takes a lot to insult me.” Tapping an ink-stained thumb on the arm of the chair, Mr. Moran lifted one strong brow, admiration and another emotion I couldn’t name reflected in his eyes.
I nodded, unsure if I should say anything more or remain quiet. The job could change my life, but I hadn’t been hired yet. “That is good to know. I try not to insult, but I am afraid I do so often. My family says I am very abrupt.”
Well, mostly my father had. My siblings rarely had a harsh word to say to me.
“Yet another thing we have in common. I am not known for my patience.” Moran placed my letter of introduction on his desk. He had nice hands, his fingers long and sinewy.
I willed my attention to the conversation. It had crossed my mind that misrepresenting myself and creating a false identity might lead to criminal liability, but nothing I claimed in my introduction was false, save my name. All the accomplishments I presented to him were achieved through hard work and diligence. “Then it is a stroke of good fortune for you that I am reasonable, as well as practical.”
“Reasonable, practical, and tolerant. You will give Mr. Webster a run for his money.” The tilt of his mouth continued to grow at his own teasing.
The transformation threatened to steal my breath. At six and twenty, I had been courted by a few gentlemen, yet not a single one offered for my hand. My lack of dowry, coupled with a lack of enthusiasm for their courtship, had hampered my chances of finding a suitable match. “I am a student of grammar, therefore, I would make an exemplary secretary for you.”
“I am more interested in what youdon’tdo rather than what youcando.” Indecision marked his wide forehead, tiny lines appearing between his eyes. Although his speech sounded matter of fact, his face was very expressive.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” When answering his advertisement, I had come into his office with the expectation of meeting a distinguished older man. It pleasantly surprised me to find he looked to be just a few years older than myself, and handsome.
“If I decide to obtain your services, you must promise me that whatever happens between these four walls is confidential.” A tick formed in his jaw, the pen in his hand moving with more agitation. He was clearly on edge over the matter, and with good reason. Reputation was everything, and I had to keep mine stellar. Which meant that I needed to keep my eyes locked on his gaze and not on his mouth.
“You have my word.” I lifted a hand to my neck and fingered the cameo at my throat. If all went well here, I would be able to hire more women to work at my agency and fill similar clerking roles. If fate was smiling on me, I would be able to fill the very position I held.
“I expect absolute discretion. The authors depend on me to keep their works confidential.” He slipped his hand through his hair and settled his palm on the back of his neck, the seams of his tailored coat straining at the movement. While his clothing was simple in style, his suit was of fine quality. From my inquiries, I found that his publishing house was doing well after he had managed to sign MH Roth, my favorite gothic author.
“So you have said,” I replied, trying not to fidget in my seat.
Quiet settled between us, cut by shouting on the street below.
“Before we continue, this is the salary I am willing to pay you.” Mr. Moran slowly slid a paper across the desk to me and looked over his shoulder as if someone might be lurking. My pulse pounded harder, and I stifled a hysterical laugh at my musings. Chances were, what he offered was standard in the publishing industry, and I was reading too much into it.
The sum on the page jumped out at me and I put my palm on my knee to stop it from shaking. He was offering me a third more than I had asked for. Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked to stop them. “It is a very generous offer, thank you.”
If I were frugal, in six short months, Eloise could quit her job and man the agency. Or, in her case, woman the agency. I shook my head at the silliness of my thoughts. Staff, of course, was the proper word. When our plans were realized, we’d be the masters of our destiny. As the daughter of a Baron, I would use my lineage for the greater good and empower more women while building a future for my sisters. All of this was dependent on Moran, of course. I swallowed the rush of embitterment. Once again, my future lay in a man’s hands.
With a nod, he continued, “In return, you would be required to keep what you see and hear in this office between you, me, and the author.”
“I give you my word. I will keep your confidence.” To my credit, my voice came out calm and held none of the strong emotions surging through my chest. Dare I ask him outright if I had the position? He might balk if I appeared overly eager. A weaker person might yield to the inevitable. I had to stay strong for my family. Everything in life was a risk, and I’d taken a risk by walking through the door.
Chapter Two
Lord Tobias Moran
