The Secretary (14 page)

“Do we?”

“Yes,” he said. “You see, I am still owed,” he counted in his head, “eighteen days by Clarence Ford. And I
need
those eighteen days. I don’t have time to search for another secretary, and, quite frankly, I don’t want another.”

“Sixteen,” she said. “Sixteen days.”

“I’m not counting Sundays.”

“I see.”

“So, eighteen days from Clarence Ford. But I am also owed a dance by Miss Clarissa Martin.”

“Oh.” She looked rather bemused.

“So here is what I propose. You continue coming to work for me as Clarence Ford during the day. But in the evenings, you allow me to court you as Clarissa Martin. Does that seem agreeable to you?”

She blinked at him a few times. “I...I suppose it does,” she said, but there was a note of suspicion in her voice.

“No one may know of our arrangement, Clarissa,” he said seriously. “I certainly will not tell anyone. If, at the end of our thirty days, you still wish me to propose to you, I will, and I cannot have your reputation ruined beforehand. Is that clear?”

“Yes, My Lord, it is.”

“I thought we agreed that you would call me Anders.”

“But it is daytime, My Lord,” she insisted.

“So it is. Now, how are we to get you home?”

In the end, her clothes were dry enough that she could put them back on within the hour. She pinned up her hair and slipped the wig on. But somewhere in the shuffle had lost her moustache.

“I don’t care about the silly thing,” he said when she emerged into the foyer. “I never want to see it again, do you understand?”

“Yes, My Lord,” she said. She slipped on her overcoat and darted out the door before he could say anything more.

The walk back to Trevor Street allowed Clarissa time to think. She had not planned for Anders to find out like he had. She had thought to tell him in a dignified way, though how dignified one could be when revealing that one had been masquerading as a man she did not know. Still, she had not wanted to hurt him. And he had been hurt by her deception. She could see that.

And yet...

He had not raged at her. He had not yelled. He had sat very calmly and explained their next steps. He had not said he no longer wished to marry her—indeed, he had said quite the opposite.

He was a rare man, indeed. And he had given her a rare gift: the ability to continue doing the work she loved, at least until the end of the month. But Clarissa did not know if she could go on with the deception that long. She saw the need for it, of course. She could not work as a female secretary to Lord Stowe and then marry him. The gossip would follow her as long as she lived.

If she were wise, she thought as she climbed the stairs to her flat, she would abandon Clarence Ford and ask Anders to court her simply as Clarissa. But, no matter how much she might wish otherwise, Clarence Ford had become a part of her. She could not let go of the work now—it was too stimulating. She knew that she could never be satisfied with the life of a simple wife, sewing and drinking tea and arranging flowers. She needed the intellectual excitement to keep her engaged. She thought that Anders was a man who could give her what she needed. And now another idea began to take shape in her mind.

Why couldn’t she continue to work on the political side of things if they married? Other women did—oh, precious few, but there were some. Perhaps, if she showed Anders how indispensible Clarence Ford could be, he would allow him to remain in the guise of Clarissa Martin.

TWELVE

February 12, 1833

Anders lingered for a long time over his breakfast the next morning. He had risen late, and it was almost ten by the time he rose and walked up the stairs towards his study. He had heard Clarissa—Clarence, he reminded himself—come in at eight, though he had still been in bed.

It had been a restless night. He had gone to supper with his mother at her townhouse in Mayfair, but he had been distracted and listless. His mother had remarked on it.

“I hope Miss Martin isn’t leading you a merry chase, Anders,” she said as they were leaving the table.

“She is a bit, mother,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Well, perhaps that’s for the best. You wouldn’t respect her if she didn’t I suppose.”

“No, I don’t suppose I would.”

“What is she like?”

He followed her into the drawing room, where tea and brandy were already waiting. “She’s...well, she’s not like any other woman I’ve met. She’s brilliant, for one thing, and beautiful. She’s witty and warm and utterly charming and...and...”

“My goodness,” his mother said, taking a sip of her tea. “You do love her, don’t you?”

“I’m in a fair way, that’s for certain,” he said.

“When do I get to meet this illustrious personage?”

“As soon as I’m sure you won’t scare her off,” Anders said. He suspected his mother had been a bit of a Gorgon to Clarissa that afternoon, though of course she didn’t know it. He wanted to wait awhile before officially introducing them.

“Will she be at the Middlebury’s ball?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, perhaps I might...bump into her there?”

“Perhaps you might,” Anders said, seeing no way to avoid it unless either Miss Martin or his mother did not attend.

For the morning, however, he had bigger things to worry about. They hadn’t managed to debate the Lunatic Regulations the afternoon before because they had gotten wrapped up in the Irish disturbances. He wasn’t sure they would get to it this afternoon, either.

Clarissa was, indeed, waiting for him in the study. She looked every bit the upright, correct secretary, except that he knew what was under that suit now. She was not wearing the moustache. She stood as he came in. Her face was quite pale.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “There’s a new file on the Irish disturbances,” she added. “And I’ve made some more notes for you on the Lunatic Regulations. Do you know there are at least 400 people who have been declared insane living under the control of Chancery?”

“It’s terrible,” he agreed, taking his seat. She dropped into her chair as well. “And it is Chancery that provides their medical care as well, I suppose.”

“Yes,” she said, “though I can’t imagine the masters of the Chancery Court have any particular training in such care, only in the handling of the money these individuals possess.”

“Well, let me see the notes.”

She handed them across and turned her attention back to another pile of papers.

“What are you working on?”

“Reports from Ramsay,” she said. “The steward there has concerns about some of the tenants. I’ve been corresponding with him about it.”

“Oh. Thank you,” he said. He had had no idea she had been dealing with those issues, which during the Parliamentary session usually got shoved aside. He had never had a secretary who had showed much interest in the affairs at his country home. “You would like it there, I think. Do you like to ride?”

She looked up. “Are you asking me?”

“I’m asking Clarissa.”

“Don’t you think we’d better keep things the way they were, at least during the day?”

“No, I damn well don’t,” he said, rather more sharply than he had meant to. “I can’t pretend that you’re Clarence Ford when I know you’re not. It’s enough that you’re dressed like that, but at least allow me to treat you as the person you truly are.”

“Very well,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

He went back to his work as well. They spent a silent and rather tense morning. When he went up to Westminster for the afternoon she stayed behind to work, and when he returned from the session she had gone. But they had agreed that he would escort her to Sidney House for supper that evening, and so he went upstairs to change.

Clarissa had returned to Simms Variety Goods again that afternoon to purchase two more evening gowns. The one she had worn to the theatre would have to do for supper at Sidney House, but she needed another for the ball on Thursday, and there would probably be more engagements after. She had paid Mr. Parkhurst the rent she owed him, and with what she had spent on food and clothes, she was little better off than when she had first gone to Stowe House.

She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to have to marry Anders out of desperation, but she could not see any way out of her predicament unless she did. This was not what her father had wanted for her.

Her mind was still troubled when he called for her that evening. He came to her door himself, and when she turned to get her mantle he strode into her sitting room.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning,” he said.

“It’s all right.”

“This is all rather confusing for me.”

She smiled wryly. “Do you think it isn’t confusing for me, too? I’ve had to be two people for the last two weeks.”

“Yes, I suppose you have.”

He escorted her down to the carriage. When they were seated inside, he said, “I like you much better as Clarissa.”

“Me, too,” she said. He tapped on the roof of the carriage and they were off.

They arrived a little late at Sidney House and found the whole family assembled and waiting for them. Eleanor greeted Clarissa warmly. Lady Sidney looked rather put out, but said nothing. She introduced the other guests, who included Miss Granger and Lord Sherbourne, who had both been at tea the other day, and Lord and Lady Stanhope, an older couple. Apparently Lady Stanhope and Lady Sidney had been childhood friends.

“How are things progressing?” Leo asked as the ladies chatted.

Anders sighed. “Ask me after dinner,” he said. “I have some news for you.”

“You’ve never proposed already?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You haven’t changed your mind?” Leo asked, gripping his elbow.

“Ask me after dinner,” Anders repeated.

Leo let it go. Anders found himself seated between Eleanor and Georgina at dinner, and across from Lord Sherbourne, who spent the entire meal making eyes at Eleanor. Down the table, Leo was talking animatedly to Clarissa and Lady Stanhope. Every time Clarissa laughed at one of Leo’s terrible jokes Anders felt a stab of jealousy.

Lady Sidney had barely stood to escort the ladies out when Leo pulled Anders into a corner. “What’s happened?” he asked.

Anders told him about Clarissa falling into the pool, and about their agreement. He even told him about snapping at her that morning.

“Did she forgive you?”

“Forgive me? Don’t you think it’s me who should be forgiving her?”

“No,” Leo said. “Well, maybe. Perhaps you should just forget about forgiving each other and start over.”

“I’m not sure that’s the way it works,” Anders said.

“Me neither, but it’s worth a try.”

Anders wasn’t so sure, but that didn’t stop him from seizing the opportunity to talk to Clarissa alone later in the evening when they found themselves sitting apart from the rest of the company in the drawing room.

“You look quite lovely this evening,” he said. “That dress becomes you.”

She smiled. “You said that the last time you saw me in it.”

“Did I? Well, it’s still true.”

“Thank you.”

He paused for a moment, unsure if he should say what was on his mind. But she tilted her head to the side a little and looked up at him through her eyelashes and he forgot his scruples. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”

“Why should I be angry with you? If anything, you should be cross with me.”

“That’s exactly what I said to Leo, but—.”

“You
told
him?”

Anders groaned. He hadn’t felt it was a mistake to tell Leo about Clarissa’s deception, but it had certainly been a mistake to tell her he had. Still, he couldn’t stop himself trying to explain. “He’s my oldest friend, Clarissa. He would never reveal your secret.”

“Don’t you think you had better call me Miss Martin in public?”

“If you like,” he said, his petulant tone matching hers.

Eleanor chose that moment to join them. Lord Sherbourne, looking a little like a lost puppy, followed on her heels.

“We were just talking about the story in the Messenger about the disturbances in Ireland,” Eleanor said. “I couldn’t resist asking your opinion, Miss Martin.”

Clarissa shot Anders a look that said their discussion wasn’t finished, but then she said, “I think it’s a terrible shame, Lady Eleanor. It seems unfair for the Marquis of Sligo to allow his underlings to decide the fate of a place like Gallen without any input at all from the locals.”

Eleanor looked a little taken aback by this reply, so Anders said, “Miss Martin and I have been discussing the disturbances in Mayo, Eleanor. Apparently the county magistrates met and deliberated in secret before placing Ireland under the Peace-Preservation Act, which has meant that hundreds of policemen have been posted to Ireland without the people’s consent.”

“I see,” Eleanor said, though she still looked a little confused.

“Don’t you agree,” Clarissa went on, “that the needs of the people of Mayo should have been considered more carefully?”

“Not if there’s a danger to the public,” Lord Sherbourne put in.

“Oh, really, Lord Sherbourne—”

Leo appeared at Clarissa’s shoulder. “What are we all talking about?” he asked. “Miss Martin looks quite put out.”

Clarissa looked as though she was about to argue, but Anders tugged at the fabric of her skirt. She pursed her lips. “I was a little...forgive me, Eleanor. I get rather passionate when I discuss politics. Perhaps we should talk of something else.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Clarissa,” Eleanor said. Over Clarissa’s head, Leo mouthed “Clarissa?” to Anders.

“Any bets on when Princess Victoria will return from her latest progress?” Lord Sherbourne said.

“Oh, dear,” Clarissa muttered as Anders handed her into his carriage at the end of the evening. “I really shouldn’t have argued with him. I’m terribly sorry if I embarrassed you.” She felt quite ashamed of herself. What did she mean by losing her temper that way?

“Clarissa,” Anders said seriously, “I cherish your excellent mind, and I understand that with great intelligence comes great care for the troubles of others. Men like Lord Sherbourne parrot what they hear in their clubs. You will meet a great many more like him, and you will learn that it never pays to argue with such dolts.”