The Anonymous Amanuensis Read online

  "Well, Eve, this is a fine coil," he said in a toneless voice. "What are we to do now?"

  She did not trust her voice to be steady so she shrugged and bit her lower lip. Why did she feel so much like he was about to rip up at her? Did he not realize she had given herself to him from love? Tears stung her eyelids, so she lowered them, not wishing to let him know how she was hurt at his coldness.

  "Look at me!" he commanded.

  She did. What she saw in his face caused the chill in her chest to expand, freezing her entire being.

  "I should apologize again for taking advantage of you, but I will not. I am not sure I did." Rising, he began pacing the length of the room.

  After several laps, he came to lean across her desk, looming over her. "You, madam, have been the one to take advantage of me. You inveigled yourself into my employ by means of a masquerade that shows you have none of the sensibilities one would expect of a woman of our class. Your behavior since then has proven that you lack all the qualities of a lady, that your morals are as low as those of any woman of the streets. Nay, lower, for they, at least, are honest in their profession. You were not. You cheated me, madam, and that I cannot forgive." As Eve opened her mouth to protest that she had earned her salary, he held up a hand. The implacable expression on his face silenced her.

  "To add insult to injury, madam, you said yourself that you were not offended by my lamentable lapse of manners yesterday in the woods. I can only assume you enjoyed my actions, reprehensible though they were. Why else did you seduce me last night?"

  Eve shook her head, stared down at her hands. They were so tightly clutched together that her fingertips were white and bloodless. Why was he hurting doing his best to break her heart?

  "I have said it is not my habit to ravish virgins, but 'pon my word, Eve, I am amazed that you came to me one. The entire pattern of your behavior shows that you place little value upon your virtue. Was Patterson not wealthy enough to please you? Is that why you withheld yourself from him, so you could ensnare a richer prize?"

  Words of denial sprang to her lips, but before she could voice them, he spoke again.

  "Yes, that must have been it. You knew of my wealth and you set yourself out to capture me. But I wonder, Eve, how you meant to do so? Did you think that I liked boys? Or were you planning to creep into my bed some night, to force me to compromise you?"

  She shook her head dumbly as she looked up into his angry face. How could this be the same man who had so passionately, so lovingly, caressed and kissed her just a few hours before?

  "I consider myself an honorable man, madam, but in this instance, I do not feel that my honor demands I make recompense. You, as far as the world knows, are a young man and there is no thought of your being compromised. I do not think you will tell anyone of this and you may be assured that I will not."

  "No, I will not tell anyone," Eve whispered. "But it was not as you think, James. Truly it was not."

  His fist hit the desk. "Hah! It could be no other way. You lied to gain employment with me. You accepted my advances without protest. You cooperated in your own ruin when any virtuous lady would have fought most fiercely to protect her virtue."

  Bending forward, he stretched across the desk until she could feel the heat of his breath of her cheeks. "You, madam, took advantage of my honor to trick me into an impossible situation. Well, it will do you no good. I am not one who will do the honorable and make you my wife. In fact, Eve, I should be very happy to see the last of you as soon as possible."

  Eve stood up. "That is enough! I will not listen to any more of your insults. Yes, I lied about my sex, but only to obtain employment. What has happened since then was none of my doing."

  She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "You kissed me first. Struggle? No I did not struggle, for 'twould have done me little good, with one arm in a splint and my body still weak from lying about for a month." Another breath, this one catching in her throat.

  "And yes, I enjoyed your kisses. I had, may God forgive me, developed a fondness for you and wanted you to kiss me. But it was not I who came to your chamber last night. No! Not I! You stole into mine."

  "Damn it Eve," Quinton roared. "Be silent!"

  "I will not. Yes, I cooperated last night. How was I to do otherwise? Was I to scream, like any innocent girl, and wake the house? What would the servants have thought?

  "What of Penny? Yes, Penny, who is foolish enough to worship the very ground you tread upon! Her admired brother in his secretary's bedchamber, intent upon rape. And the secretary not the young man that Penny thought, but a woman!"

  She forced herself to laugh. "What would your adoring sister have thought then? Oh, no, James Quinton, you were not at all at fault."

  All desire to weep, to beg, was forgotten in her anger at his injustice. She moved around the desk and came face to face with him in the center of the room. "Although you may not believe it, sir, I had no plans to seduce you, although I will admit that last night I wanted you as much as you did me.

  "I had decided I must leave, even before you...you came to me, last night. This morning my resolve was even stronger. How could I stay here, where I could not be safe from your advances?"

  As she spoke, Eve congratulated herself on her manner. Chas had once told her that the best defense was offense. She was determined to be as offensive as possible, for she could stand no more of his bitter words.

  Before James could respond to her tirade, she said, keeping her voice cool and unemotional, "Now, sir, I believe that today is the end of my second quarter's employment. Will you be so good as to have my salary ready for me tomorrow morning? I intend to depart early." She straightened and smiled slightly, though to do so cost her deeply. "Do you have letters to dictate this morning? I should not wish to leave you with the impression that I am unwilling to discharge my duties as usual on this, my last day in your employ." She went back to her desk and sat, looking expectantly at him.

  "Damn it, Eve!"

  "I am sorry sir, but I do not wish to engage in further altercation with you this morning. Shall we consider all the angry words as spoken and get on with today's tasks?"

  Quinton slammed his fist on his desk. "Very well, if you will have it this way. Yes, I do have some letters to dictate. When they are finished, you may take the rest of the day off to pack your things."

  Eve was able to maintain her composure while he dictated three letters, but she was glad to see the back of him when he stamped out of the room after doing so. She quickly finished the translations of two of the letters and copied the third in her best hand. Then she cleared her desk and ran from the room. Once in her bedchamber, she threw herself onto the bed, expecting the tears that had threatened for the past two hours to come at last. But they did not.

  She lay there, dry eyed, for nearly an hour, her mind going over and over his cruel words. How could he have come to such erroneous conclusions? Could he not see that she loved him beyond all belief? She knew he'd had a fondness for her, even when he still believed her to be a young man, so how could he believe she could be so dishonest and scheming? Did he trust no one?

  "This is ridiculous," Eve told herself, when she had relived the scene in the office at least a dozen times. "You had no reason to hope, girl, and you have only received what you deserved for your wanton behavior. Get busy." She rose from the bed and started to pull her clothing from her bureau, preparatory to packing her shabby trunk. As she lifted the well-pressed cravats from the drawer, she wondered what she would do with them. They were made of fine linen, albeit a trifle worn. But they would have no place among her feminine attire, no matter where she went. Still, she lay them in the trunk. Perhaps the housekeeper at Elmwood might find a use for them. She was certain that, no matter what plans Quinton had made for her, she had no choice but to return to the only family she had. No matter how unwelcome she might be.

  A soft tap on her door startled Eve as she was folding her last shirt. At her call, t
he door opened and Mosely slipped inside.

  "Well, lass, so yer going. It's probably all for the best, for we could not 'ave 'oped to keep up this masquerade forever. But I'll miss you." The man's face was mournful as he held out his arms. Eve stepped into his hug and laid her head on his shoulder.

  "Mr. Mosely, I do not wish to leave. You must know that. But Mr. Quinton has taken me in disgust and I cannot stay."

  "Not disgust, lass. 'Is Nibs could never feel disgust for you. Oh, 'e's furious enough, I'll warrant, but 'e's that fond of ye." The burly old sailor patted her back. "Here, now, ye can't be so gloomy. Jamie, 'e's got a plan so ye won't 'ave to go back to those relatives of yers. 'E sent me in here to get ye, so's 'e can tell ye about it."

  "I cannot see him, Mr. Mosely. Not now. I should disgrace myself with these tears. Can you not persuade him I am busy and will speak with him later?" Eve did not want to have to face James until she was once more in control of her unruly and fragile emotions. "Would you ask him to wait, please, until I have finished packing?"

  "I'll do me best, lass, but don't make 'im wait too long. 'Is Nibs ain't a patient man at the best of times." He winked. "And these ain't them."

  Later Mosely returned to tell her that James had been called away. He would speak to her the first thing in the morning, just before she departed for Colchester. Eve was greatly relieved, since her composure was still less than perfect. She requested a tray at dinner, for she did not think she could face Penny and Miss Comstock's gay chatter through the meal.

  She spent a quiet afternoon and evening in her room, reading sporadically, but mostly staring into space. If only she could remember every word James had spoken to her, every expression of his face, every quirk of his mobile lips. Sadly, she knew she would not.

  She did not want to forget one moment of the six months she had known him. Reaching deep into herself, she tried to recapture the thrill she had felt at his kisses, the surge of passion she had experienced at his lovemaking.

  But it was gone. All she had were memories of him in the office. Oh, she could see, in her mind's eye, his naked body as he gathered up his clothing in the dimness of her chamber, and the ardent expression on his face when he lowered his body onto hers, but the turbulent love and desire she had felt were gone, leaving a hollow void where they had been. His cruel words this morning had destroyed all tender memories of his lovemaking.

  Eve was certain she would never again know even a shadow of what she had experienced in his arms. Accepting this awful vision of the future, she felt a curious calm come over her. It was as if her body had purged itself of all knowledge of passion and would never again be troubled by the conflicting signals sent by her heart and her mind.

  In a way, she was relieved, for she had known, in her more practical moments, that she could not spend the rest of her life reliving a few moments of passion, but oh! how she wished she could.

  James was not at the breakfast table the next morning, but Penny was, her distress evident in her expression and her tone. "Is there no way you can remain, Eve? Fallowfeld will be so dreary when you are gone."

  "I wish I might, Penny, but I owe a duty to my family. I must go to them." As if Elmwood were not the last place I would wish to be.

  "I think you are not telling me everything," Penny said, a pout upon her lips. "It is James, is it not? He is sending you away. I have seen how he looks at you, as if he wants to rip you up for something."

  "No, my dear, it is not your brother. I truly do have familial responsibilities--" Especially if I am breeding. Only this morning had she seriously considered what might happen to her in that eventuality. Alfred and Charlotte would cast her out, for one thing. Beyond that, she refused to think. There is always a chance....

  At first she pleaded with Eve to stay. Then, when Eve reiterated that she must depart, Penny blamed her brother for driving Eve away with his scowls and temper.

  "Penny, Penny. Your brother did not alienate me, nor is he sending me away. I truly have family responsibilities I must see to, and cannot stay here, much as I would like to. But, if Mr. Quinton would not object, I will write to you, once I am back at Elmwood. I should like to hear of your adventures in London next year."

  "Oh, Eve, yes, do let us write to one another. But why would Jamie object?"

  "It is not common for a young lady to correspond with a man unless he is a relative. Mr. Quinton might think it was not proper for you to do so."

  "That for what Jamie thinks," Penny said, snapping her fingers. "We have become good friends, Eve, and I will write to you whether he says I may or not. But will you not be returning to London?"

  "No. I will probably return to my previous employer. It is nearer to my relatives, you see," Eve said, hoping Penny would not ask any questions. "Perhaps I will come to London someday, and if I do, you may be sure I will endeavor to visit you. But by then, you will probably be married and perhaps not even in London."

  "Well, I cannot like your leaving so suddenly, Eve," Penny said with a pout, "but I understand your duty to your family. I will miss you, though"

  "And I you, Penny. You have been a little sister to me. Good bye." But Penny would not settle for an impersonal bow and she jumped from her chair and threw her arms about Eve.

  "Take care," she said, kissing Eve's cheek shyly. Then her face flamed and she ran from the room, clearly aghast at her temerity at kissing a young man to whom she was not related.

  No longer able to postpone her last meeting with James, Eve went to the office. He was again sitting behind his desk and his expression was as forbidding as it had been the day before.

  "Come in, Eve," he said, as she hesitated in the doorway. "Sit down." He indicated a chair drawn up before his desk. "I must ask your forgiveness for my unfounded accusations yesterday. I had been trying to see a way out of this situation in which we find ourselves and had managed to drive myself into a rage. Please accept my apologies."

  Although she was frozen to the core by the harshness of his voice, Eve managed to nod her acceptance.

  "My apology should be in no way seen as forgiveness of your deceptions, however, and I am still determined that you will leave here today."

  "Of course, sir. I had intended to do so."

  "I do not deny," he said, ignoring her reply, "that some of the responsibility for our unfortunate encounter was mine. Nor do I deny my responsibility should any further, ah, ramifications arise." He stopped, scowling at her.

  "You mean if I should have a child, I assume, sir. How kind of you. But I will not ask for your assistance, should that occur." Eve was determined to show him she could be as cold and impersonal as he, but her heart broke in the attempt.

  "There would be no need for you to ask, madam. I am aware of what honor demands of me, and will support you and the child will ye or nil ye. You are to inform me immediately you know whether you are pregnant or not."

  "I will do no such thing. It is none of your business. If you have nothing else to say, sir, I must depart. The stage at Colchester will not wait." She rose.

  "Sit down! I am not finished with you." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope. Tossing it across the desk toward her, he said, "Take this. It will see you through the next few months so you will not need to return to your uncle's household."

  Eve picked up the envelope. It contained banknotes, most of them of large denominations. Her face flushed and she gritted her teeth. Removing the money, she counted out the amount of her salary for the past three months and stuffed it into her pocket.

  For a moment, she looked across the desk at her recent employer. He stared back, almost blankly. Giving up the last of her dreams, Eve took the rest of the notes in both hands and tore them in half, then tore them again and again, until all that was left was a handful of confetti.

  She forced her lips into a smile, knowing it held no humor. "I want not your charity, James Quinton," she said in a hard voice, "nor do I charge for my favors. My sins are my own and I will pay for them al
one. Your money, sir!"

  And she flung the bits into his face before turning and running from the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Jamie, I cannot tell you how I appreciate your taking me into your home like this," Chas said from where he lay on the sofa, covered with a light rug. "I could not face m'brother Alfred, and his wretched family. Let alone a winter in Yorkshire. Brr."

  "The pleasure is mine, Chas. I have had a miserable autumn and am glad of some company. At least you will not go about with a gloomy phiz and an air of censure. If my sister had not decided to go to Seabrooke for Christmas, I might have strangled her."

  "Your sister? Why is she in the dumps?"

  James shrugged. "Who's to know what megrims a chit of eight and ten suffers. I believe this past month it was because young Winchester decided to pursue Penny's best friend. Or was it her worst enemy? I know not."

  Chas chuckled, then grimaced as his healing wound twinged.

  "But you said you had a miserable autumn. What happened? Did you lose a fortune or two?"

  "Nothing so simple, nor so easily remedied. But it is a long tale, Chas, and one I'd as lief not repeat. It is not to my credit. Perhaps someday..." James broke off to stare through the nearby window at the pale November sunshine, an expression of despair on his face.

  "Of course. I did not mean to distress you. Come, tell me of the latest on dits. Who has run away with whose wife? Is Prinny still as extravagant as ever? Most important, Jamie, who won the Derby?"

  James laughed. "Not that nag you were backing. I do believe, Chas, that you owe me twenty pounds."

  "I hoped you'd forgot that ill-advised wager. Oh, well, I'll have my batman fetch you the money, if you'll be kind enough to ring."

  "Tomorrow, Chas. Tomorrow is soon enough. By the by, had you heard of the plans for Prinny's stables at Brighton? You will never believe the grandeur in which he plans to keep his cattle."