It wasn’t fair that this would be a consideration. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake!
“He’s busy, what with parliament and having a new wife. I’d rather not bother him with this.”
“Bloody hell,” Mr. Black cursed under his breath. He was not completely comfortable with her reasoning. And if he had doubts, he might withdraw his offer.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Caroline wouldn’t allow it to happen.
“He won’t mind if no one knows about it.” He’d mind even less if he didn’t know about it.
Caroline turned one of the papers to the page that included gossip. “We can explain to readers that, although the Gazette’s society author is a member of the ton, for obvious reasons, she—or he—must write anonymously.” She imagined that might make the section more interesting. “They are welcome to send in ideas for stories, so long as they can be verified. I’ll go by the name… Lady Philomena. Let them think I’m an old spinster, watching from where I sit with all the other dowagers. Why, it’s practically my civic duty—keeping all of society aware of the scandals going on in their midst…”
In truth, she hated the notion, but… She would turn it into something legitimate.
Mr. Black was watching her, and he no longer looked like he was about to send her on her merry way.
“Lady Philomena, eh?” A grin danced on his lips—lips that were too full and pink for a gentleman. Or they ought to be, anyhow. On Mr. Black, they made her wonder what they’d feel like against hers…
What was she thinking?
He wasn’t just an earl, he was also her boss. And she had no business appreciating her new boss’s good looks.
She had no business studying his slightly tousled inky hair, the chords of muscles along his arms, or his mesmerizing eyes that looked all the more intelligent from behind those silver spectacles.
And if she was smart, she would halt her appreciation there.
But Mr. Maxwell Black filled out his clothing without being overly bulky or stiff. He moved with a stealth uncommon amongst gentlemen. His shoulders were the perfect width and a smattering of black hair drew her gaze to his hands, and wrists, and forearms…
Why did she find the ink on his fingers so attractive?
She forced herself to meet his stare again. “I can start today, if you’d like.”
“That isn’t necessary.” He eyed her gown and then shook his head. “Tomorrow will be fine. In the office, you’ll be known as Miss Smith. But the byline will list you as Lady Philomena.”
Caroline nodded. “What time do you want me?”
His eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“What time should I come?” When he tilted his head, she added, “What time do the reporters come in?”
“Ah…” he said. “Noon. Most of us stay late, but you won’t be expected to.”
“Why not?”
“Because, Miss Smith, you’ll be haunting ballrooms in search of juicy morsels of gossip.”
Oh.
But that wasn’t at all what she had in mind. In order to block him from printing articles about Reed, she was going to need to see everything. She was going to have to be a full-fledged staff member. Not someone who drops articles off in between mingling with society.
But she’d not press her luck today.
She was going to work for the Gazette! And although she was doing this for her brother, an uncommon excitement flowed through her veins.
For the first time since they’d moved to Mayfair, she had a purpose. One that involved using her brain, one that didn’t involve dressing up like a frosted cake.
“You won’t be disappointed.” She gathered her reticule and rose from her chair. Mr. Black stood as well.
“If you don’t pass muster, you’ll be out,” he reminded her.
