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The Conundrum of a Clerk Page 8
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Or, on second thought, perhaps he shouldn’t be mentioning them at all.
“Of a...?” Daisy prompted, wondering what he was about to say. She was rather curious as to how he might refer to a prostitute. Had George Bennett-Jones sent word ahead about her former position? Assumed she had filled the role of mistress in one of her guises as an operative for the Home Office, or later, for the Foreign Office, and was therefore tainted? Ruined?
She was ruined by all definitions of the word. Besides the Home Office Secretary and Lord Chamberlain and those who worked for them, though, who in London even knew anything about her missions? Her former liaisons should hardly matter when it came to filling a position as a headmistress.
Teddy shook is head. “No one. I’m just... I am in search of someone with whom I can spend the rest of my days—nights, rather, since I intend to keep my position at the Bank of England.”
Daisy blinked, a bit shocked at hearing his words. At least the man was honest. Upfront about his expectations. She rather wished Lord Bostwick might have mentioned something the afternoon prior, so that she could explain she had no intention of practicing her late mother’s occupation.
“So... you’re in search of a mistress who can also act as headmistress for Warwick’s?” Daisy asked in a measured voice. She was about to stand up, curtsy, and take her leave of the office when she saw the matching look of confusion cross Mr. Streater’s face.
The look of alarm and realization.
He was halfway up from his chair, his one hand waving in the air. “Oh, please, forgive me, Miss Albright,” he nearly shouted. He sat down—hard—and allowed a sound that could have been disgust or defeat, or perhaps a frog on the verge of dying. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, and it’s been entirely on my part.” The word “dammit” was added in a whisper.
Angling her head to one side, Daisy gave him the benefit of the doubt. “You thought I was here at the behest of a matchmaker, when in fact, I am here to apply for the position of headmistress of Warwick’s,” she stated.
“Exactly,” he murmured, his shoulders slumping.
Daisy wondered how the man before her, who had seemed so confident and self-assured only a moment ago, could become the epitome of a broken soul in mere seconds. “Are you still in need of a headmistress?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Teddy nodded. “I am. I cannot... I cannot do this. I cannot run a finishing school, or teach the classes lacking an instructor. I’ve no idea how. I have a position at the bank—a good position,” he replied.
Daisy allowed a nod. “May I inquire as to if there are others seeking the position? Others you may have under consideration?” she asked, her voice gentle. She didn’t want him believing she was still about to bolt from the office.
Teddy allowed a one-shouldered shrug. “I thought perhaps one of the instructors could fill the position, but after reviewing their characters and reading my mother’s notes on their employment, there’s not a one I would trust with my mother’s legacy,” he explained. “Well, except for perhaps Miss Albright, but I discovered she has recently married a viscount and resigned her position.” He suddenly straightened, his brows rising to new heights on his forehead. “Is she a relation of yours, perhaps?” he asked, with almost too much hope.
Heartened by the renewed interest he showed, Daisy allowed a grin. “The Viscountess Breckinridge is my sister. As for my qualifications, I know everything she knew upon being hired by Mrs. Streater. We had the same governesses and the same tutors,” she replied, straightening so she sat on the front edge of the hard chair.
“You’re hired,” Teddy said.
Daisy blinked again. “But... but you haven’t even asked me about my administrative skills,” she argued.
“The fact that you even know the word is proof enough you are qualified,” Teddy countered. He frowned. “But do tell,” he encouraged.
Taking a deep breath—Daisy understood the job was hers as long as she didn’t say something stupid—she decided truth would be best when it came to her past employment. “For the past several years, I have been employed by an office which exists to serve King and country, engaged in missions to expose traitors and those who would see us defeated by the French,” she said quickly, pleased when Mr. Streater suddenly leaned forward, his eyes wide with interest. “I can provide references, of course.”
“Of course,” Teddy replied with a nod, half-tempted to ask for names. He didn’t want to appear ignorant if he didn’t recognize them, though. Although his first thought was to inquire about her work to expose traitors, it dawned on him by which office she might have been employed.
One in Whitehall, no doubt.
He had a suspicion she wouldn’t be able to provide any particulars even if he asked. “Go on.”
Daisy angled her head, a bit concerned when her would-be employer didn’t ask for names. “I was raised in an aristocrat’s household, and I understand the importance of propriety and virtue.” Even if she was no longer a virgin, she thought it important to bring up the fact that it was a valuable asset for young ladies. “I am not adverse to doing the paperwork required of the position, nor am I intimidated by younger daughters of the wealthy or cits who think they have London in the palms of their hands. I am fair, but I can be judgmental when circumstances require it. I will not tolerate misbehavior, nor will I show favoritism.” At this point, she wasn’t sure what else to say, so she merely sighed and went silent.
“Can you teach arithmetic?”
Daisy stared at Theodore Streater a moment before she finally allowed a nod. “If I must, I can,” she admitted.
“You’re hired.”
“But, what about a dance instructor?” she countered, remembering her sister had done that, too.
“Can you teach dance, too?” Teddy asked, his voice filled with such hope—such awe—that Daisy found she wanted to please him anyway she could.
“If I must,” she replied, a bit more hesitant. If dance classes were later in the day, her limp would be evident. She was about mention it, but the look on his face reminded her of how Ethan Range, Marquess of Plymouth, appeared when he was in ecstasy. Of how his face lit with such joy. Of how his features seemed strained but youthened at the moment of his release.
How she missed having a lover who appreciated her skills, even if they were a bit limited.
For a moment, she almost wished she was applying to be Theodore Streater’s mistress.
“I will teach the dance class, of course. Until I can find someone better qualified to fill the position,” Daisy finally said with a shrug. When he regarded her with an expression of—was that devotion? Gratitude? Relief, certainly—she allowed a grin.
Until he asked the next question.
“Can you... can you teach grammar?”
On the verge of replying in the negative, Daisy realized this was her opportunity to mold young ladies into women who would might actually use the knowledge they learned at the school. Just because daughters of aristocrats were usually taught at home by governesses and tutors and then rarely used anything they learned once they married, daughters of the middle class and the wealthy of London might actually benefit from what they learned. “I can,” she finally said with a nod. “When do I start?”
Glancing about the office, as if he was seeking answers from the walls, Teddy said, “Tomorrow? Or the next day, if you find tomorrow too soon. Or the day after, perhaps? It has to be before Saturday, though. I’m hosting a tea—or rather, Lady Bostwick will be hosting the tea—for all the instructors. That is where I plan to introduce myself as the new owner. I wish to use that occasion to formally introduce the new headmistress, you see.”
Daisy had to suppress the urge to chuckle. Apparently, Mr. Streater wasn’t expecting to inherit a finishing school. But wouldn’t his mother have mentioned the inevitable at some point? Apparently, the woman had been ancient back when Lady Bostwick attended the school. “Tomorrow will be fine,” she said, once again amused by h
is look of relief. She hesitated with her next question, but given she had no intention of dipping into the funds her father had bestowed in the form of her inheritance, she asked, “And what of compensation?”
Other than having learned all the salaries of those who worked at the school, Teddy hadn’t actually given the matter of salary for a headmistress a moment’s thought. “I can pay you one hundred pounds a year,” he offered. The number matched the amount his mother had been taking by way of pay, at least according to the ledger still before him on the desk.
“One-hundred-and-fifty,” Daisy countered. She had made more than that working for the Home Office, but her position as an operative required she inhabit the role continuously until a mission was complete. She imagined a role as headmistress of a boarding school would be similar.
“Two-hundred, and that’s my final offer,” Teddy stated.
Daisy blinked.
Well, there was definitely a reason he needed her to teach the arithmetic class, it seemed, but what did that say about his skills as an accomptant for the Bank of England? “Done,” she replied, wondering if he was a bit addled by her presence, or if he was playing with her. No matter. At least he was a charming man.
Charming and obviously besotted.
She wondered if he had an apartment on site and what it might be like to bed him. She had never been with a man who was missing a limb, but surely the loss of an arm wouldn’t prevent him from being able to make love.
She could just imagine that conversation.
Now that we have the particulars out of the way, may I inquire as to your availability as a lover? she might ask. Given my service to King and country, and yours, I am thinking we might suit one another in that regard. That is, if you don’t have a young lady in mind for the position of your wife?
She thought of how he might blink before asking, Are you quite serious? Then, even before she could answer, he would add, You’re... you’re propositioning me? and behave as if he were scandalized.
She supposed he would be.
Anyone would be!
And she would smile demurely, of course, amused by his question. When I arrived, you thought I was here so you might consider courting me, she would remind him. Has your interest in me waned since then?
And Mr. Streater would blink again. No, he would manage to respond, although she was sure the word would come out sounding more like the croak of a frog in heat.
Daisy gave her head a bit of a shake, stunned she had allowed the momentary reverie.
Whatever was she imagining? And why? Did she really miss the company of a man so much? The thought of Mr. Streater as a bedmate was completely incongruous to her desire to work for the man. Especially as a headmistress of a finishing school.
Then she remembered her father and how he behaved with his duchess. So beholden. So... in love. Her heart clenched a bit, and she found she had to swallow away the sudden tightness in her throat.
She placed a calling card on the edge of the desk. “I will arrive tomorrow at precisely eight o’clock in the morning. I shall see to it the classes are all taught by those who should teach them, all at their regularly scheduled times.” She paused and took a breath. “Now, is there a room I’m expected to occupy when I’m not here in the office?”
Obviously relieved at learning she would be there on the morrow, Teddy allowed a sigh. “It’s a bit more than just one room,” the new owner of Warwick’s replied, sounding a bit defensive as he stood up. “Let me show you to your apartment,” he added as he moved to open the office door. “One of the maids saw to it my mother’s effects were removed yesterday—not that there were many,” he explained as he led her down the hallway to an adjacent door.
“Pray tell, why ever not?” she asked. Daisy imagined an older woman would have acquired all manner of objets d’art over the course of her lifetime, as well as keepsakes and jewelry, clothing and shoes.
“I discovered she lived the life of a pauper when she could afford far better,” Teddy answered as he reached for the door handle. Although he hadn’t had a chance to check on the maid’s progress, he was surprised to find the four rooms nearly empty. Only a few sticks of furniture occupied the parlor, the bedroom, and a small bathing chamber. The kitchen didn’t even have a table at which to eat a meal. “Oh, my, it’s worse than I thought,” he murmured, daring a glance at Daisy. Sure she would be appalled at the sparse accommodations, he was relieved to see she wasn’t openly dismayed.
“It will do just fine, Mr. Streater,” Daisy said as she ducked her head into the bathing chamber. “Might I arrange to have some things brought in this afternoon? I think I should like to spend the night here.”
Teddy stared at her, his gaze darting to a door in the bedchamber. “Of course,” he replied, the sound of his swallow nearly audible.
Curious as to what had him reacting with such nervousness, Daisy hurried over to the door and opened it, only to discover it led straight into the office. “This is convenient,” she said as she turned to regard him. She was tempted to add, Should you wish to pursue me for a position other than that of headmistress, know that I can be found here after my workday is complete. Nine o’clock, shall we say? but good sense had her holding her tongue. The poor man would probably be so tongue-tied, and he might actually think she was serious.
Apparently having trouble finding his voice, Teddy finally managed an, “Indeed,” before he straightened. He reached into a waistcoat pocket and held out the key to the apartment. “In the event I’m not here later, please know that there shouldn’t be anyone in this building but you and the servants. Their rooms are upstairs. I’ll inform the housekeeper she’s to expect you.”
Daisy dared a glance out the apartment door. There were two other closed doors across the hall, and a set of stairs at the end of the hallway. “No one else lives on this floor?” she queried.
“I should hope not. The rooms across the hall appear to be for storage.” He had taken a look in both, a bit surprised to find costumes hung from pegs around one of the rooms and trunks filled with what could have been a theatre troupe’s props in the other. He had been about to seek out one of the instructors to ask if the costumes belonged to the school when he discovered an inventory sheet for the theatre appreciation class. Apparently, students not only attended the theatre and read plays, but they put them on, too.
“Do all the instructors board here as well?” Daisy asked, remembering that Diana shared one of the adjacent houses with a number of other teachers.
Teddy sighed. “I think most of them do. Truth be told, I’m not really sure. By now, I expect they all know what’s happened, but it’s not because I have... informed them,” he stammered. “I haven’t met them. But the tea is this Saturday,” he said again.
A look of sorrow crossed Daisy’s face. “I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Streater. Your mother managed a rather successful school for a very long time. I do hope I can meet your expectations.” She sighed and gave one more glance around the small apartment. “If there’s nothing else, then I shall take my leave and pay a call on Bostwick Place to let her ladyship know I have accepted the position.” With that, she gave a curtsy.
Teddy bowed and watched her go, settling onto the threadbare settee and wincing as he did so. The stuffing had long since lost its cushioning effect.
Whatever had been going through the beautiful head of Miss Daisy Albright when we were in the office? he wondered.
He knew what had been going through his head.
Both of them.
Why, he had almost propositioned her! Almost asked if she might consider joining him in his bedchamber in Bruton Street. And every other room of the townhouse he had occupied since gaining his position at the bank. The only reason he hadn’t was the thought that his words would come out sounding like a frog in heat.
For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Daisy Albright didn’t come across as the type of woman who would make an agreeable wife—at least, not in the trad
itional sense. Perhaps because she would be far too managing. Far too controlling. She would probably henpeck him to death.
And he would love every minute of it.
For he was quite sure she was a completely different type of woman when it came to matters of a carnal nature.
The thought of waking up to find her in his bed had his heart beating a bit faster, had his breaths quickening, had his breeches suddenly feeling far too tight.
He glanced down, rather stunned to discover just why. After so long without a woman, it was becoming apparent he needed one.
He wondered if he should hire a mistress.
The thought surprised him.
What would he look for in a lover? Brunette, blonde, or red-headed? Short or tall? Voluptuous or slender?
Every time he tried to imagine who he wished to discover lying next to him in bed, a vision of Miss Albright filled his mind’s eye.
When his wooden arm bumped against the side of the settee, he winced. What woman would want to wake up next to me? he wondered. To this?
He thought of the fairy tales that featured frogs, but found he couldn’t imagine being kissed by a princess.
Perhaps a mistress could abide him and his missing arm—if she were paid enough. He could certainly afford to hire one now that he was rich.
The idea had him straightening on the settee. Surely George could provide some guidance. He’d had a mistress for eight years before he married Lady Elizabeth.
Reminded that he had an appointment at Angelo’s Fencing Academy to spar with the viscount later that afternoon, Teddy made his way back to the office to finish the review of his mother’s ledgers.
For the second time in two days, he would have a chance to speak with his best friend.
Chapter 12
A Newly Rich Man
Monday afternoon
The walk down Jermyn Street had Theodore Streater wondering why he had never visited the shops along the venerable street before. With windowed storefronts displaying all manner of goods, he could easily spend the entire allowance he had granted himself for the month.