The Anonymous Amanuensis Read online

Eve nodded, her cheeks redder than ever.

  Mosely went to the bureau and picked up some white fabric. He seated himself and astonished Eve by extracting a needle from where it had been stuck into the fabric. He sewed, quite competently, for several minutes, then bit the thread off and stuck the needle into the arm of the chair. The valet held up, for Eve's inspection, one of her nightshirts. It was now open completely down the front, with ties at several intervals below its short, buttoned placket. He returned to the bedside and helped her to sit up, carefully holding the sheet before her as she did so.

  "Can ye 'old on to that, while I 'elp ye to put yer left arm into the sleeve?" he asked.

  Again she nodded.

  "There, the split in the sleeve lets it fit nicely over your splint. Now, you just close your eyes while I guide your other arm into this 'ere sleeve."

  At her startled look, he explained, chuckling. "If ye don't see me 'elping ye, ye can just pretend I'm yer maid. Come, Eve, unless ye'd rather 'old the sheet between yer teeth."

  Realizing how silly she was being, Eve dropped the sheet and allowed Mosely to guide her right arm into the sleeve of the altered nightshirt. His face was blank as he pulled the edges together and buttoned and tied her into the garment.

  "Now, lass, let's take care of yer other needs," he said briskly, as he scooped her from the bed and carried her behind the screen. Carefully setting her on the floor, he asked if she could manage to balance herself. She replied that she thought she could and Mosely left her, slipping out the door into the corridor.

  Eve found managing a knee length nightshirt with one hand, while balanced on one leg, most difficult, but she managed to do so by holding the shirt in her teeth while she clung to the edge of the screen. She was able to stand up again, with even greater difficulty, before Mosely returned. But she was white and shaking when he carried her back to bed.

  Once she was again tucked into bed, Mosely examined her arm. "This is apt to 'urt ye, lass." He removed the splint. His examination was brief but thorough. Warning her not to move the arm, he fetched a basin and cloth. After cleaning the dirt from her wrist and hand, he replaced the splint with one made from smooth, clean lath and strips of soft linen. "Feel better?" he asked as he completed the task.

  "Much," Eve replied. "Thank you, Mr. Mosely." She watched as he gathered up the discarded splint material, recognizing her own cravat among the dirty cloths.

  "Mr. Mosely," she said shyly, "may I ask you some questions?"

  "Of course. Ask away," he said, moving a chair to stand beside her bed.

  "Did you find me?"

  "No, it was Jamie that found ye."

  "Was anyone else with him? I mean..."

  "I know what ye mean," he said, patting her shoulder. "No. Jamie and me was alone, and anyway, 'twere me that opened yer shirt."

  To her surprise, his face grew bright red.

  "But 'e was there when I did. Damme! Ye should've seen 'is look when 'e saw ye was a lass. Fair dumbfounded, 'e was. So was I, for that matter." Mosely chuckled again. "But don't ye worry yerself, Eve. No one else knows, nor will they, if Jamie 'as 'is way."

  "Where is Mr. Quinton, now?"

  "Sleeping, I'll wager. 'E was with ye all night and was fair exhausted when I come in this morning. 'E said to tell ye, if ye asked, that 'e'll come back this evening." With another wink, said, "'E promised me that 'e won't ask ye nothing for a couple of days. So ye can just put yer mind to getting better and not worry about facing 'Is Nibs."

  "Is he very angry with me? I mean, for my having deceived him about..." She faltered and, blushing, gestured toward her body.

  "Well, I won't deny that 'e's not any too 'appy. Sees all sorts of problems for the both of ye. But 'e's determined that ye'll not suffer for what ye done. And when Jamie Quinton makes up 'is mind about something, things usually goes 'is way."

  Eve wished she could believe him, but she could not. Life had never been that simple and she had no reason to believe it would become so.

  "Now then, milady," Mosely said after she sat silent for several moments, "I've got a pot of good, thick soup keeping warm on the 'earth. Could ye maybe eat a bit of it?"

  "Oh, Mr. Mosely, don't call me--"

  "'Ush, now. I was pulling yer leg, lass. Soup?"

  "Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful. This empty feeling in my middle must be hunger, for I have not eaten since lunch yesterday."

  "Make that the day before yesterday. Ye wasn't found 'til after midnight and ye were feverish all of yesterday. Both Jamie and me was afraid ye'd caught an inflammation of the lungs."

  Mosely had been ladling soup into a plate as he spoke and he brought it to Eve. "There, now, if I hold this, can ye manage the spoon? No, ye need to sit up, don't ye?"

  He lifted Eve, fluffed the pillows behind her, and inserted another so that her shoulders were raised. "Now, then, when this is all gone, there's some tea waiting for ye as well."

  The warm soup and hot tea filled the empty places in Eve's belly, but her heart still felt hollow. Agreeing she would be all right for an hour or so while Mosely attended to other duties, she gladly saw him leave, locking the door after himself.

  So Quinton was indeed angry with her. As he should be, for the deception she had practiced upon him was unforgivable. Eve discounted Mosely's avowal that he would protect her from any scandal that would occur. Why should he, after all? It was more likely he would send her away in disgrace. If he kept her secret, it would be to protect himself from any gossip that could damage his business.

  Eve thought her employer had a mild fondness for her, perhaps considering her more in the nature of a nephew than an employee. But she doubted very much his fondness would extend to keeping in his employ someone who had systematically and deliberately practiced a major deception upon him. Even if that someone was, in Quinton's own words, the best secretary he had ever had.

  Eve found she didn't wish to remain Quinton's employee. Oh, she would, if offered the opportunity. She had to support herself, after all.

  But she wanted more. Now that she was unmasked, she might as well take off the blinders as well. She was in love with James Quinton, had been since before they left London. For the past few weeks she had given free rein to her fantasies. One after another, she had dreamt of ways and means by which she could reveal both her sex and her devotion to James without arousing his anger, his disgust. Now she saw they had, indeed, been fantasies. Foolish, impossible fantasies.

  She would ask him to allow her to remain at Fallowfeld until she was well enough to travel. Then she would go to Elmwood and become a drudge to Alfred and Charlotte.

  Eve pulled the sheet over her head and gave way to tears.

  Mosely was in and out of her room several times during the afternoon, but Eve, sleeping under another light draught of laudanum, was barely aware of him. It was late evening when she at last came fully to her senses. Turning her head, she saw Quinton sitting beside her in the high-backed chair, his red hair gleaming in the light from a single candle. His eyes were closed and he seemed asleep. Eve gazed at him, wanting to store up the sight of him for those long years ahead. As if he felt her gaze upon him, he stirred and blinked. As soon as he saw she was awake, his expression grew stern and his eyes glacial.

  "Are you all right? Do you need anything?" he asked in the severe tone that Eve had not heard for many weeks.

  "No, I need nothing. Where is Mr. Mosely?"

  "Gone to his bed. He had little sleep the past two nights."

  To Eve, his voice held accusation.

  "I am sorry. I did not mean to be so much trouble to you," she faltered.

  "Do not speak of it. I have promised Mosely I will not rip up at you until tomorrow at least, and I am determined to keep my promise."

  Eve saw his jaws clench, as if he were forcing them to remain closed.

  "Damn it, Eve! How could you embark on such an idiotic scheme!" he exploded suddenly. "Why did you not come to me as yourself?"

  "Would you have empl
oyed me then?"

  He did not answer, but the muscles in his jaw worked.

  "Mr. Quinton, I had been told you so disliked women that you would not even allow a housekeeper to remain in your house overnight. Can you claim you would have given me the post of secretary had I appeared in your library clad in sprigged muslin, no matter how impressive my credentials?"

  Still he did not answer, but his glare prevented her from saying more. She lay back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling. How angry he was. She decided to say no more to him and tried to clear her mind for sleep. But she had slept nearly all day and felt no urge to do so again. In order to keep herself from glancing at him, she recited poetry to herself, then the multiplication tables. Anything to keep from thinking of him, from watching him. At last she could keep silent no longer.

  "Mr. Quinton," she whispered, "Mr. Quinton, are you asleep?"

  "No. One night's attempted slumber in this chair was quite enough for me. What is it, Eve?"

  "Would you please call Mr. Mosely? I need his help."

  "I told you he was sleeping. I am your nurse tonight. What is it you need?"

  Eve gestured helplessly toward the table beside her bed. Quinton's manner was as detached and impersonal as Mosely's had been as he poured fresh water into the empty glass. He fluffed her pillow, tightened her sheet, and smoothed the wrinkles from the blankets that covered her, all without once looking into her face. Once he had her tucked in, he asked if she would like her toothbrush.

  "Oh, if you do not mind, it would be wonderful," she replied. "My mouth is so dry and tastes so terrible." He brought the necessary items and waited while she scrubbed her teeth clean. Noticing her wince as she tried to scoot lower in her bed, he asked if her arm was hurting her.

  "I am afraid it is. And it itches!"

  "Well, you cannot scratch it, but you can take some laudanum for the pain. In fact, Mosely told me to give you some if you woke after ten. It is almost that now." He tipped two drops of the drug into a glass and offered it to her.

  Preferring a drugged sleep to the anger she could sense in the room, Eve took it gratefully and soon was asleep again. Once more her dreams were dark and hopeless.

  Chapter Twelve

  "May I come in, Eve?" Penny asked shyly from where she stood in the open door. Mosely had answered the soft knock and now looked over his shoulder at Eve, his brows raised in question.

  "Of course, Penny." Eve smiled at the girl whose flaming face was nearly the color of her hair. "I have been hoping you would come to visit me."

  Mosely picked up the bundle of sheets that he had just removed from Eve's bed. "Now, then, Miss Penny, ye just sit down there and amuse Mis...ter Eve while I take these downstairs. But I'll be back in 'alf an hour, mind, and ye'll have to go then. He's still feeling pretty poorly." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Penny slowly approached the bed and took the indicated chair. She sat silently, looking at Eve from under lowered lashes.

  "I hope you are feeling better," she finally said. "Jamie said I might come to visit you but that I must not stay long."

  "Other than an occasional twinge in my arm and leg, I am feeling quite well. Only I seem to sleep quite a lot," Eve told her.

  Penny fell silent again and Eve could see that she was chewing her lip, obviously ill at ease. Sure she knew the cause of the girl's distress, Eve said, "Penny, we must not let one small, unfortunate incident mar what was becoming a comfortable friendship. Will you not forgive me for my insensitivity toward your feelings?"

  "Oh, Eve, I am sorry!" Penny burst out. "I was so forward, so brazen. What a disgust you must have of me!"

  "Nonsense! I am sure you did nothing more than any other young girl in the throes of her first infatuation would have done. It is I who must apologize, for my behavior was less than graceful." Eve held out her hand to Penny, who looked at her for a moment, then took it. Giving the hand a squeeze, Eve continued, "There, now, we have shaken hands and become friends once more. We will not speak of it again. Tell me what you have been doing to amuse yourself these past few days. I could see that the weather has been delightful and have wished I could be out in it."

  "Oh, I have ridden, and practiced the pianoforte, and worked at my sewing. And I have been learning household management." The last was said with a grimace of distaste.

  "I cannot see why I should learn about choosing menus and ordering flour and managing a stillroom. After all, that is what housekeepers do."

  "But Penny, a housekeeper is not the mistress of the house. And not all are honest," Eve said, remembering one housekeeper they had had when she was a child, one who had lined her pockets quite richly before her thefts were discovered. "If you are to be the mistress of a great house, and you will, for I expect you will marry very well, you must know as much as your housekeeper about how to keep it running smoothly."

  "Well, I do not like it. Estate management is much more interesting, and it does not keep one cooped up in a house all day long."

  "That it does not. And neither should household management. But you said you had been riding, so you must not be incarcerated all the time. Who is instructing you?"

  "Mrs. Grace, from Seabrooke. Jamie sent for her to come for a month. She arrived the day after your accident." Penny giggled. "Oh, and did she not give Jamie a fine scold when she arrived. She told him that he was living in filth, like a pig in its sty. She made him hire five extra girls from the village and is having them turn the entire house inside out. Jamie is not pleased." Again a giggle. "But now I have been helping her for a week, I can see that this house was never as well kept as Seabrooke, nor as clean."

  Eve silently agreed, for she, too, had seen the signs of neglect that are only visible to a woman, gentlemen not being so aware of proper housewifery. She did not comment, but only asked, "Why on earth is Mr. Quinton displeased?"

  "Oh, she and Ackroyd do not see eye to eye on how to keep house, and she ripped up at him something fierce. Ackroyd threatened to resign, for Jamie has given Gracie carte blanche to do as she wishes with the house--it was a condition of her coming here. So Ackroyd's nose is badly out of joint, for Gracie keeps making comments on how dirty the house is and is sure to do so in his hearing. I think Jamie had to promise him a bonus to stay on."

  So he heard what I said about giving Penny proper training in her future role. Amused, but doing her best not to show it, Eve said, "With all her cleaning, when does Mrs. Grace find time to give you instruction in housewifery?"

  "Oh, Eve, you would not believe it!" Penny cried. "She makes me help clean! Why on Monday I had to polish all the silver. Then yesterday I applied wax to the dining table. Three times, for Gracie made me remove it the first two times--with nasty smelly stuff that burned my hands--saying I had done it badly."

  She made a face. "At luncheon, Jamie said I had to obey her or go back to Seabrooke, until I was prepared to learn how to be a lady! Was that not cruel of him? Ladies do not clean like any common scullery maid! Look at my poor hands!" She held the afflicted parts before Eve, who saw that they were indeed reddened and rough looking.

  "But a lady must know how it is done, so she can oversee her own servants, Penny. At least that is what my mother always said."

  "I suppose so, but I do not like housewifery. I think I should much prefer to be a man."

  "Being a man has its problems just as being a woman does," Eve said, from the depths of her own experience. "But tell me. Did you not go with your brother to Colchester the day of my accident? What did you there?"

  Penny's attention thus distracted from her miseries, she proceeded to tell Eve of the bolts of fabric and the many furbelows that she and Miss Comstock had purchased in Colchester. "I am to have five new dresses, Eve, and one will be an evening dress. Jamie has said we are to have a ball next month, one to which he will invite some of his London friends. And there will be waltzing. Oh, Eve, I do not know how to waltz! Is it so very difficult?"

  "I have not waltzed for some
time, for I was not welcome at the parties at Elmwood, my last place of employment. But I do not remember that it is so difficult. Has Mr. Quinton not engaged you a dancing master?"

  "He said he would, but he has been so impatient and crabby since your accident that I have not wished to remind him. Eve, do you know what had put him in such a pet. Is he angry with you and taking it out on all of us? Or have some of his investments done poorly?"

  Eve knew Quinton's mood was her fault, but she could not admit it to Penny without explaining why. "You must remember that I have been unable to perform my duties for nearly a week. Have you asked Mr. Mosely?"

  "No, for his mood has been almost as black as my brother's. Eve, could you remind Jamie about the dancing master for me? I confess I have never seen him so...so scowly. He quite intimidates me."

  "I know what you mean," Eve said, remembering the stern, icy gentleman who had interviewed her in London. "I have not seen your brother since the day before yesterday, but I will ask Mosely if there is something amiss. Perhaps I might also mention to him that you will need to begin your dancing lessons soon so you will be ready for the party."

  "Oh, would you please?"

  Was I ever so young and innocent that dancing lessons would have seemed like a great treat? Then Eve remembered Leander, and smiled indulgently. "I will," she promised, "the very next time I speak with him."

  Mosely returned at that moment and chased Penny from the room, saying that Eve must rest.

  Eve mentioned the dancing master to Mosely when Quinton did not visit her for yet the fourth consecutive day. Her reminder must have reached the proper ears.

  The next morning Penny returned. "Oh, Eve, I am so excited!" she said as she flung herself in the chair beside Eve's bed. "I am to have my first dancing lesson this morning. I must not stay with you above a few minutes, for he is to be here at eleven. I know you must have mentioned my lack of skill, for Jamie apologized at breakfast for neglecting me."

  "Perhaps he had other things on his mind," Eve answered noncommittally, for she wanted no credit for Quinton's kindness to his sister. "You must come and tell me all about the lesson when you are done."