After taking a moment to appreciate the unexpected sight, Max opened the door almost silently. “Lady Caroline.”
Her back twitched and then she slowly turned around. The blasted woman lacked the good sense to look ashamed.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked.
“I see you’ve been busy.” She grinned at him, looking far too cheeky for a woman seeking his favor.
“I’ll hire you on approval.” It was an impulsive decision and Max hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.
But all that red caught his eye yet again, scorning him. What the hell did he have to lose?
“Do you hire all your editors on approval?”
“I only have one. And that’s not the point. If I find you useful at the end of six weeks, you can consider the position permanent.”
Her eyes lit up and before he could go on, she was clasping her hands in front of her, breast heaving as she bounced on her toes. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry. I’ll be the best precision editor London has ever known.”
“No. You won’t.” Max needed to cut her off before she ran right over him in her exuberance.
Tearing his gaze from those hands and the bosom behind them, Max scowled and moved behind his desk. “You’ll start as a society reporter.”
“A reporter?” Her entire demeanor changed. “A society reporter?”
And damned if Maxwell couldn’t relate.
“You said you could write, as well as locate errors. You’ll have half a page to fill.” And then he locked his gaze with hers—intentionally ignoring the brilliant blue color along with her thick, sweeping lashes.
“Take it or leave it,” he said.
WHAT TIME TO YOU WANT ME?
He expected her to write articles informing readers about society? Given any warning at all, Caroline might have kept her disappointment in check.
But he was not sending her away. No, he’d offered her a position and she would have unfettered access to the newspaper—or access, anyway. She might have to work to get that unfettered part.
“I’m not sure I’m the right person to write about society,” she said. “If you remember correctly, I’m not really privy to other ladies’ conversations…” Friends. Aside from Goldie, Caroline didn’t have any friends.
“You’ll have to make more of an effort.” He moved a few papers around, apparently unconcerned with her objections.
“I suppose… but if people discover I’m sharing gossip for the paper, I’ll stop getting invited to ton events.”
“You’d be surprised,” Lord Helton—Mr. Black—replied, a faint smirk curling his lips.
She’d nearly fainted when she’d realized that the Earl of Helton and Mr. Maxwell Black were the same person. Had Goldie known? If she had, why hadn’t she said something?
The earl had had several opportunities to tell her himself. But no. Instead, he’d allowed her to ramble on.
As a result, Caroline had not insulted a fan of the Gazette, she’d insulted the owner of the blasted thing.
A normal young lady would be embarrassed for such a misstep, but Caroline refused to be ashamed. Because she’d meant every word, and perhaps she’d done him a favor with her candor. And the night before, while walking her in the garden, had he not said he found her honesty refreshing?
And now, she would be responsible for digging up gossip.
This had better work. “It’s probably best I write under a secret name.”
Mr. Black slipped his spectacles on and narrowed his eyes at her. They really were the loveliest color green—like a grassy meadow in spring.
“Does your brother know you are here?”
