The Conundrum of a Clerk

by Sande, Linda Rae

  “I love you,” George stated. He moved his hands to the arms of the chair and lowered his head until he could capture his lips with hers. When he ended the kiss, he had half a mind to take the sleeping babe from her and do what he had just imagined.

  But then he would be late. Very late.

  “I won’t be long. I promise,” he whispered before giving her another kiss. “Perhaps I’ll be in disguise, and my sword and I can pay you a visit before you retire?” he hinted.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened with mischief. She watched him go, all the while wondering if her maid might have had time to reattach the buttons on her favorite negligée. If not, she might have to locate her sewing box and do it herself.

  When she glanced down at her daughter, the baby was staring up at her with the oddest expression on her face.

  “Oh, now. There will be none of that,” Elizabeth scolded. “You might not exist if it wasn’t for his swordplay,” she added with a wink.

  The babe’s only response was a rather unladylike burp.

  Chapter 18

  A New Member of the Club

  Later that Tuesday night at Teddy Streater’s townhouse

  “You might have told me this was the night they were to vote on your membership in White’s,” George said in a scolding voice. “I almost didn’t attend, and I’m the one who nominated you in the first place.” That had been several years ago, a testament to just how long someone might wait for their membership to come up for a vote.

  He almost hadn’t nominated Teddy. Back then, Teddy had just regained his position at the bank after many months of living at the expense of his brother. Teddy wouldn’t have had the income necessary to pay the dues in the club if he had been voted in any earlier than this evening. Either someone at the club knew he had been promoted, or they knew that he had inherited a good deal of blunt. George thought it was probably the former.

  Teddy allowed a shrug as he moved to the sideboard in his townhouse’s library. “How was I to know?” he replied. “It’s not as if they informed me.” He poured two glasses of brandy and offered one to George. “So... am I a member of White’s now? Or...?”

  The viscount bobbed his head back and forth as he took the glass. “Well, there weren’t any black balls in the voting box,” he replied with a teasing grin. “So, yes, you’re a member. If I recall, there’s some paperwork you’ll need to complete—“

  “Dues to pay, no doubt,” Teddy interrupted, rather relieved to know he had the funds readily available.

  “That, too. I do hope this change in your good fortune won’t cut into our fencing matches,” George hinted. He worried that with his promotion and recent wealth from his inheritance, Teddy might look to make friends with a different class of gentlemen—one that didn’t include George.

  Teddy’s eyes widened. “It will not,” he replied. “I am still employed. And now that I have the responsibility of an entire institution and those who work there, I’m not about to live a life of leisure,” he claimed in a huff.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” George said with a sigh. He took a seat on the library’s long divan, ignoring the worn upholstery. “Speaking of your institution, any idea of how it’s going with your new headmistress?”

  Teddy joined him, setting his glass on a side table as he took an adjacent chair. “I haven’t been there since yesterday. Not that I haven’t wanted to just... show up and give my regards to Miss Albright,” he murmured.

  George gave him a curious glance. “You find her attractive, don’t you?” he asked.

  Practically sputtering on his latest sip of brandy, Teddy said, “I’d have to be a monk not to.” He cleared his throat, about to mention he had spent the night before in a constant state of arousal just thinking about the comely Miss Albright.

  “Did you learn much about her?”

  Teddy wondered at his best friend’s query. “She knows as much about arithmetic and dance as her sister did when she was hired, because they shared the same tutors and governesses,” he replied, one brow arching up as if that was the best he could come up with in answer to George’s query.

  “And?” George prompted.

  “She said the word ‘administrative’.”

  George frowned. He was about to ask why that might be enough to secure a position when Teddy sighed. “I realize now I may have been a bit quick with my decision,” he admitted. “But I just have this feeling that she has the best interests in mind for the school. That she’ll do what’s right.”

  Allowing a nod, George took a drink of brandy and settled back in the divan. “Could you... could you see yourself with her? In a... a relationship of sorts?” he prodded.

  Teddy gave a start, wondering if George had paid witness to what was happening behind the placket of his breeches. Just speaking of the woman had an arousal starting. “I can imagine a good deal when it comes to Miss Albright,” Teddy replied. “Probably none of it possible.”

  George struggled to hide a grin. “And why is that?”

  Teddy sighed. “Besides the fact that she’s a headmistress for a school I now own?” he countered. “Faith. When she showed up yesterday, I thought she was there to...” He allowed the sentence to trail off, too embarrassed to admit what had been going on in his head at the time.

  Both of them.

  Straightening on the divan, George stared at his friend. “You do like her,” he accused.

  “That’s the least of it,” Teddy replied.

  “You wish to bed her.”

  “Don’t you?” Teddy countered.

  George leaned forward, nearly spilling his brandy. “No,” he said, his gaze going off to one side as he considered his response. He hadn’t thought of bedding another woman since his marriage. Before Elizabeth, he hadn’t thought of bedding another woman besides his mistress of eight years.

  For the entire eight years.

  “No,” he repeated for good measure. “Which is rather a relief,” he murmured as he straightened and glanced at his chronometer. He still had every intention of arriving home in time to play a masked bandit in pursuit of his prey.

  “Truth be told, when Miss Albright appeared yesterday morning, I thought perhaps a matchmaker had sent her,” Teddy murmured. “And that she was there to consider being my wife.”

  George stared into his glass of brandy and wondered if Teddy had been drinking far more than just the glass he held. “I admit, my wife is quite expeditious when it comes to matters of... well, just about anything, but the shingle for her latest charity hasn’t even been mounted above the office yet, nor has she hired a matchmaker,” he explained. “She’s interviewing two tomorrow, though.”

  Teddy sighed. “Will you help find me a mistress?”

  Resisting the urge to agree, George instead said, “Elizabeth and I will be attending the theatre on Saturday night. Do join us, and bring Miss Albright along, won’t you?”

  His brows furrowing, Teddy asked, “Any particular reason why you think Miss Albright will agree to such an arrangement?”

  George angled his head to one side. “She and my wife get along quite nicely. After a week in her new position, and after you two finish hosting that tea for your new employees, I’m of a mind to think Miss Albright will be ready for a night out.”

  Teddy blinked. “But I don’t suppose Lady Bostwick will send the invitation to the theatre,” he whispered.

  Giving his head a shake, George said, “Probably not. Which means you should. If I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at the theatre.” He paused a moment. “Actually, we’ll ride together in the coach,” he amended. “Pick you up here at five, shall we say?”

  “Oh... I could just leave with you from your house. Given the tea and all,” Teddy suggested.

  “Brilliant.”

  With that, George took his leave of Teddy’s townhouse and returned to Bostwick Place.

  When he found Elizabeth standing in front of the fireplace in his bedchamber, already dressed in her negligée, her ha
ir down in mahogany waves about her face, he didn’t bother with donning the mask or locating his foil. Instead, he carefully unbuttoned the sheer robe, kissed her senseless, and made love to her in front of the fire on a soft hide rug.

  And they would have stayed on the rug the entire night, but at some point, a small boy appeared, tapped his father on the back, and asked when they might be joining him in their bed.

  Never had George been so glad he hadn’t brought his wife to their bed. “In a moment, son,” he murmured.“Now get back to bed.”

  Chapter 19

  Lining Up Some Dance Partners

  Wednesday morning

  About to take her leave of Omega House, Daisy dared a glance toward Alpha House to see several instructors take their leave of the boarding house. She gave a wave when Jane Betterman noticed her, and then set off to make her way in the direction of St. Martin’s when she caught sight of a tall man just ahead. His gaze was aimed squarely at her instructors, although he walked slowly in the same direction she was headed.

  Although she couldn’t see all of his face, she was sure he was the same man who had been standing there on Tuesday.

  Worried for her instructors, Daisy was prepared to do what she must to bring the man down should he make a move in their direction. A quick knee into the back of his knee would have him losing his balance, which she could exacerbate by punching him in the kidney. Once down, she might have to wrestle him until she had an elbow across his throat, but by then, surely someone would come to assist.

  However, once the teachers were through the main doors of the classroom buildings, the tall man’s step quickened, and he hailed a hackney.

  Managing to secure the next hackney, she climbed in and watched as the conveyance in which the man was riding turned off to the right and finally headed east.

  Daisy cursed for not having seen the man’s entire face, but knew she would have to keep an eye out for him on the morrow. He might have just been curious, or perhaps he lived nearby and always secured a hackney at that particular spot, but Daisy had every intention of finding out just why he paid so much mind to her instructors.

  When her own hackney came to a halt, she was jolted from her reverie. She stepped out of the equipage and paid the driver before her gaze darted up and down the street. Right in front of her stood the address she sought, but she still double-checked the address.

  Daisy regarded the exterior of St. Martin’s School for Boys and experienced a bit of the Green Monster.

  However could a school for boys look as expensive as its tuition? The exterior stucco no doubt covered a brick building, but the white stucco was free of dirt and graffiti. Every window pane was clear and unbroken. The pavement in front had been recently swept. And the wrought iron fence in front had recently been painted a shade of green more commonly found in the expensive neighborhoods of Mayfair.

  Making her way through the front door, she quickly found the main office. The headmaster wasn’t seated behind the desk, however.

  His receptionist was.

  Receptionist? Daisy hadn’t even considered employing a receptionist for Warwick’s. She rather doubted Mrs. Streater had ever had one.

  She introduced herself, asking if she might have five minutes of the headmaster’s time. “It’s about a dance class,” she added, noting the boredom the young man displayed at hearing her name and position.

  “The headmaster is with a student. It may be some time...” His words were interrupted when a nattily dressed, balding gentleman emerged from the office directly to the right of the receptionist. That man’s attention immediately went to Daisy.

  “Miss Albright?” he said in disbelief.

  Daisy blinked. “Mr. Lusk?” she responded, a brilliant smile appearing when she recognized the colleague from her past. Although Elias Lusk had rarely been on a mission outside of manning a desk at the Home Office, he possessed a number of skills and was highly educated.

  She curtsied to his bow and offered a hand, adding, “It is still Elias Lusk?” she asked in a whisper. She wasn’t sure if she knew him by his real name or by an alias.

  The headmaster nodded. “It is,” he acknowledged. “I know, this is probably the last place you would have expected to find me,” he said as he waved her into his office. “But it was an opportunity I had to accept. Who told you I was here?”

  Daisy took the proffered chair across from a desk that was even larger than the one at Warwick’s. She noted the thick Turkish carpet beneath her feet and the row of bookshelves behind the desk, all filled with leather-bound books. The office smelled of vanilla and vellum and reminded her of her father’s study. “Please don’t take offense when I tell you this, but I was completely unaware you were employed here,” she replied. “I came with the hope of speaking with the headmaster.”

  “Well, you’re speaking with him,” Elias replied as he straightened. “Which has me wondering what kind of assignment has you here at St. Martin’s.” His eyes widened. “Please tell me one of my charges isn’t involved in some sort of international scandal. Or smuggling. Or an assassination attempt on Prinny.”

  Resisting the urge to grin at Elias Lusk’s comment, Daisy shook her head. Seeing a former operative in the position of headmaster had her deciding her employment wasn’t so very unusual. “I haven’t held a position with either office in over a year,” she replied. “However, I am now the headmistress of Warwick’s.”

  Mr. Lusk’s eyes widened once again. “What are the odds?” he murmured, leaning forward so his elbows rested on the desk. “What, pray tell, happened to Mrs. Streater? I never thought she would give up her position there,” he said.

  Daisy inhaled and held her breath a moment. So word of Mrs. Streater’s death hadn’t reached the hallowed halls of St. Martin’s. “She died. Her son inherited the school, and he hired me Monday last.”

  A brow furrowed, as if he didn’t quite believe what he had just heard. “That’s odd. I always thought that school was owned by a... a Worthington, wasn’t it?” he asked, a look of confusion crossing his face.

  “So did everyone else,” Daisy agreed. “Tell me. Do your boys learn any dances as part of their curriculum here at St. Martin’s?”

  Elias allowed a nod. “Dance is part of the curriculum for the older boys, although it is not a favorite.”

  “Because they have to dance with one another?” she guessed.

  He shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed.

  “Do you suppose they would be amenable to coming to Warwick’s? For one or two days a week, so they might learn to dance with members of the other sex? I have four-and-twenty.”

  Elias blinked. He blinked again before taking a look at his chronometer. “What time?”

  “Eleven o’clock.”

  His frown gave his answer. “Well, it cannot be today,” he hedged.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t expect it to be,” Daisy countered as she grinned. “What about Friday?”

  “Done,” he replied. “I should be able to line up some equipage to get them there and back.”

  “It is about a mile,” Daisy agreed. “There’s a makeshift ballroom in one of the classroom buildings, and the art instructor plays the piano-forté for the class.”

  Elias nodded. “I may have to come along as an escort and watch,” he teased.

  “You’re welcome to, of course,” Daisy said. She paused a moment. “I understand Miss Anders makes the walk here and back everyday.”

  “Excellent French instructor,” Elias stated with a nod. “Keeps order in her class, too.”

  “Oh?” Daisy replied, wondering what the woman did to keep the younger men in line. “Do you know how?” She might have to use similar methods to keep the boys in line during the dance class.

  The headmaster allowed a slow grin. “Shame. A steely gaze. And she has a wicked ruler she raps on their knuckles should they pronounce a word incorrectly.”

  Daisy raised an eyebrow, wondering if Miss Anders employed the same technique on the girls
at Warwick’s. “Is she your only female instructor?”

  “Indeed. But it’s fine. She always has a companion with her.”

  “Very well, then. I shan’t take any more of your time. Eleven o’clock on Friday, then?”

  “We’ll be there,” Elias replied. He was about to stand up, but instead leaned over the desk. “Might you share just which dance you’ll be teaching your charges on Friday?” he asked, one eyebrow arching in query.

  “If they behave, they’ll be learning the waltz,” Daisy replied.

  She rather liked how Elias’ mouth dropped open just then. How he had ever managed as an operative, she didn’t know. The man’s face gave away his every thought! “Have a good day, Mr. Lusk.”

  And with that, Daisy hurried back to Warwick’s.

  Chapter 20

  Tea with the Owner and a Side of Drama

  Later that afternoon

  When Daisy dismissed her arithmetic class at half-past three o’clock, she allowed a sigh of relief as the last girl filed out the door. She couldn’t help but feel frustration at how little the younger girls seemed to know about basic math. The older girls had a firm grasp of addition and subtraction, and some were even learning multiplication. How they had all ended up in a single class didn’t seem to suit, though.

  Daisy was about to take her leave of the classroom when she noticed Mrs. Fitzgerald tidying up her room next door. They had spoken the day before, but only in passing as they each had classes to teach. “Do you have time to join me for some tea?” Daisy asked when the theatre appreciation instructor lifted her head from her task.

  “Time? Why, of course. There is always time for tea,” the woman replied, her manner rather dramatic. “Whose kitchen, though?”