Katie Rose (3 page)

“What?” Winifred stared at him in confusion.

Charles grinned. “You might as well learn this now, Winifred, for you surely will in a courtroom one day. There is liability, and then there is personal responsibility.”

“I do not know what you mean,” she whispered, stepping back as he moved closer.

“I think you do.” Charles’s voice was like silk. “But I will give you a case. If a lady gives a gentleman reason to think his … advances are not unwelcome, then he cannot be held responsible for making them.” At her continued confusion, he lifted her chin and gazed deeply into her eyes. “All you have to do is to refuse me. I will never force you anywhere you do not wish to go. The choice is always yours.”

Winifred drew in a breath. “So …”

“So that means that while I will play fair, I
will
continue to play. Miss Appleton, it is no secret that I find you extremely desirable. I cannot hide what I feel, or pretend it does not exist because of our situation. Nor am I convinced that you find my attention completely unwelcome. However, I will respect your wishes. I will do nothing to embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable working here. But you are on my turf, as they say, and I will not hesitate to take advantage of that.”

“I see.” Winifred bit her bottom lip, looking a little less sure of herself.

Charles fought to keep from tasting those lips, remembering how delicious they had been the night of the ball. Yet he had no desire to frighten her away, if she even could be frightened. He released her, then stepped back and picked up her book. He handed it to her.

“All right, let’s get started with your schedule.” He was all business now. “I had thought to have you work with one of the clerks, to assist in researching
some of the cases he has on hand. In addition, you could help the secretary, Crocker, with some of his duties. You passed his desk on the way in. He will show you around. Is that agreeable to you?”

“Yes, of course,” Winifred said, disconcerted by his manner.

“Legal work is not glamorous. I know you have considerable experience reading briefs and developing arguments, but you will not do that here initially. Most of the work assigned to our clerks is very boring but necessary. You will not be seeing the inside of a courtroom for a long time. I cannot afford you special treatment just because of our … association.”

“I understand,” she said quickly.

“Good. I shall want to work directly with you later, to assist you in your studies and to give you some special assignments. I warn you, Miss Appleton, that I can be a strict taskmaster. Does that concern you?”

“No. I mean, yes.” The teasing note in his voice only seemed to confuse her more. Rising, she picked up her valise. “Did you … need anything else?”

“Of course, but I did give you my word, did I not?” As she continued to look flustered, he decided to call a truce. “I have a meeting scheduled this morning in the conference room. Would you mind bringing the texts I requested from the secretary?”

“Not at all,” she replied.

“Good.” He smiled, then turned away, opening the door and holding it for her. She looked at him in confusion, as if unsure what to do next. “Why, Miss Appleton, have you changed your mind already? The coffee is still hot.”

“No, thank you,” Winifred said quickly, then brushed past him into the hallway.

Charles closed the door, chuckling softly to himself. Winifred Appleton was obviously quite used to getting her own way.

But unfortunately for her, so was he.

“
F
OLLOW ME
, M
iss
A
PPLETON
. I’ll show you to your office.”

Winifred walked behind Miles Witherspoon, the young, ambitious clerk whom Charles had assigned to work with her. The man clearly resented having to deal with her at all. Still, as she followed him out of the office, Miles was the least of her concerns.

She had not expected the conversation with Charles to go the way it had, and she felt like a courtroom novice who had been firmly thrashed by an experienced prosecutor.

He was a good lawyer, Winifred thought, forced to admire his tactics. She had thought her argument noble and well thought out, but somehow he had managed to turn the tables on her.

Or had he? Winifred thought long and hard. In spite of her reaction, she had to admit that the hidden, feminine side of her was secretly pleased that he didn’t cave in to her demands. Worse, part of her was exhilarated by what she saw as the ultimate male-female challenge. If Charles was no schoolboy to be led around by a leash, she was no mawkish miss, inclined to swoon at the slightest male attention.

Determination rose anew within her. It was really quite simple. All she had to do was keep her head, and she would win the war. Charles really had put the power into her hands. He had promised that nothing would happen unless she wanted it to.

Yet as she marched down the hall, an emotion nagged within her as she remembered that kiss at the Rutherfords’ ball.

Would she be able to keep it from happening again?

H
ere we are.” Miles paused at a dimly lit corner of the library. A small desk took up one third of the space, and a smoky gaslight fumed ominously on the table. “I am certain you will be very comfortable here.”

Winifred knew he didn’t mean that, but she refused to complain. The last thing she wanted was to gain a reputation as a prima donna. “Thank you,” she said sweetly. “You are so kind. How can I help?”

He fumbled with a sheaf of paperwork before answering. “Here. Copy these documents, then give them back to the secretary. When you finish, I suggest you assist with the filing. You might also want to help out here in the library. Our cleaning woman has not come in this week, and it is a disaster.”

With a smug smirk, he sauntered out of the room, pleased to have put this female upstart in her place. Winifred’s heart sank as his words penetrated.

Copying and cleaning. She had spent most of her life studying the law, and they saw her only as a foolish woman. Discouraged, Winifred put aside the files and
walked to the next table. There she picked up a mountain of books, trying hard not to listen to the voice inside her.

How could they treat her this way? Didn’t they realize things would never change if they didn’t give her a chance? She put the books away furiously as the indignity of it all struck her. Didn’t they see what was going on in the world? Didn’t they know that Susan B. Anthony, by voting in the Rochester election, was demonstrating that women were people, too? Even though the Supreme Court had found against Miss Anthony, surely they understood that it was simply a matter of time before everything changed?

That thought made Winifred even more outraged. Picking up a duster, she began furiously cleaning the first wall of books. Feathers shot out, wafting silently to the floor. They had to realize the injustice of it all. Men spent years fighting for freedom! More feathers fell. Yet if the Constitution did not protect women, then what good was the law? How could all men be created equal if fifty percent of the population wasn’t even included in the sum?

There were now but three feathers left on the duster. The rest were scattered at her feet like autumn leaves, leaving a brown trail between the towering bookcases.

Stifling her chagrin, she cleaned up the feathers and tossed the useless duster into the trash bin. She then returned to the table to fetch the next pile of books. As she began to put them away, she realized that the library was in very poor order. Like many law libraries, it had grown over time, but it had never been organized to allow for the new additions. Winifred stared thoughtfully at the jumble of books. Retrieving her notebook, she diagrammed the shelves, noting the way the books were distributed.

It was completely haphazard. Winifred recalled the neat system employed by her friend Bernard Goodman, a lawyer who had generously given her the use of his own library. The old gentleman would fall over into a faint if he saw the way the state’s legal library was kept.

Determination sparked within her, and she removed all the books from the first shelf, then the second. By the time she was finished, Charles would be able to lay his hands on whatever he needed at a moment’s notice. The thought of pleasing him sent a little shiver of anticipation through her. He would be proud of her.

She would see to it.

“Y
OU HAVE GOT
to get rid of her!” James Meyers cried, pounding the table like a judge in court.

“We cannot have a woman working here!” Edgar Whitcomb protested. “It has never been done! Women belong at home, not in a law office!”

“Have you seen the
Times?
It won’t be long before the
Sun
or
Harper’s
gets hold of this. I can just see the Nast cartoon. The office will be a laughingstock!” Miles Witherspoon pushed a copy of the newspaper, with its glaring headline, before Charles.

Charles gazed at the reddened faces around him, then calmly pushed back the paper. The lawyers and clerks gathered around his desk, all of them indignant that a woman was working in their office.

Sighing, Charles helped himself to a glass of water. He had expected some resistance and had, in fact, spent the last few days in court to avoid a confrontation, but this overwhelming protest surprised even him. And it wasn’t just the older ones who appeared outraged. The younger men, whom he would have
thought more open-minded, were, if anything, even more furious than their elders. But he understood their attitude. Male dominance was the unquestioned order of the day, and none of them took kindly to seeing it threatened.

“Gentlemen, calm down and take a seat. This is not as serious as it seems.” The men, still grumbling, reluctantly accepted chairs. The room gradually quieted, and they gazed at him warily.

“Thank you. Miss Appleton is a friend and has offered to help out in the office. As you know, the city’s budget has been under increased scrutiny, and we don’t have the same funds as we did last year to hire help. Miss Appleton will do the filing, copying, and researching—all of the things we do not like to do and do not have the time to do. Unlike most of our clerks, she has considerable background in research and writing briefs. She can be of tremendous assistance and will not cost us a dime. What is wrong with that?”

Whitcomb thrust out his chin, his bushy whiskers twitching with a scowl. “It is unseemly, that is what! Next thing you know, the office will be crawling with petticoats. These new women have to be stopped! Those scourges, Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony, are getting them all fired up. My own wife went to hear them speak, and she has been spouting suffragette nonsense ever since!”

“They want to vote, to run for office, to become involved in politics and business!” Meyers said in outrage. “There is even a woman in the papers who tried to murder her own husband! I never heard such nonsense! In my day, women knew their place. Like delicate flowers, they were seen and not heard. A soft voice, a pretty face—these are the things that are desirable in women, not these masculine ideas!”

“Besides the vote, they want to control marriage!” Drew McAlister added. His red nose became even redder. “Why, Mrs. Stanton wants to enable a woman to get a divorce if her husband drinks! Can you imagine? A man takes a glass of whiskey and comes home to an empty house!”

Charles rolled his eyes. McAlister took more than an occasional drink, so it was no wonder he worried about his wife leaving. But none of that had anything to do with Winifred. As the men continued muttering, acting as if Winifred were less than womanly simply because she was ambitious, his own outrage increased.

A glimmer of understanding came to him as he realized what Winifred must have encountered in trying to get accepted into law school. She must have faced multiple Whitcombs and McAlisters, all of them appalled at her goals, all of them certain they knew what was best for her. A sour taste came into his mouth as he saw that he hadn’t been much better. He still thought Winifred would ultimately quit, but it annoyed him considerably that his male brethren were discussing her in such a manner.

“Gentlemen, once more let us be reasonable about this,” Charles said sternly. “I do not think you have considered the ramifications of dismissing her. Are you all willing to do your own filing and copying? Our secretary cannot continue to support us all.”

The silence that followed was pregnant. None of them wanted to go back to doing the grunt work, as they had done in the first days of their apprenticeships. Meyers thrust out his lip and scowled openly.

“Can you not get a male student to help out? I am sure there are candidates available.” He looked at his colleagues, who nodded, satisfied.

“Not at our price,” Charles said flatly. “We just do not have the money to pay someone a decent wage.
And the only way to attract a male student is to spend time teaching him the law. Are any of you willing to give up countless nights and weekends reviewing your old law books with a young lawyer? You all know what is involved in passing the bar. The only reason any student in his right mind would agree to such a thing is if there were something tangible in it for him.”