The Anonymous Amanuensis

by Judith B. Glad

  The girl flung herself at Eve. Only by scrambling backwards on hands and knees was Eve able to avoid being embraced. "Penny, you must cease! I am not what you think. I cannot...Oh, blast and damn!" She leapt to her feet and retreated across the clearing.

  "No! Stay where you are," she said, holding up a hand when Penny would have pursued her.

  "You must listen to me, Eve," Penny cried, her one little hand pressed to her heart, the other flung wide in a dramatic gesture of despair. "My regard for you has gone far, far beyond friendship. Do you not care for me even a little?"

  Still virtually speechless with astonishment, Eve leaned back against a tree. She felt as if she had run a long distance, or dropped from a great height. Breathless. Heart pounding. Shaking. "Penelope," she said, finding her voice again, "I had no idea..."

  "No, I knew you did not. That is why I decided to tell you, even though you must think I am bold and pushing."

  "I think only that you are a romantic young girl who has never before met a gentleman of your own age," Eve said, hoping to discourage the girl. "In your youth and inexperience, you have mistaken friendship for a stronger emotion. And you must not. You cannot."

  "Why not? I am old enough to know my own mind. My grandmother was younger than I when she married my grandfather. And Jamie has said you have been on your own for more than five years. Surely you are not too young to enter into a lasting relationship."

  "Penny, this is all nonsense. You do not know what you are saying. There are many very good reasons why you must not develop a tendre for me. Oh, my dear, if you only knew..."

  Eve was completely nonplussed at the situation that had developed. She pulled her wits about her. "Come, child, I am taking you back. You must promise to put all of this out of your mind."

  "I am not a child!" But Penny willingly allowed herself to be handed up onto her horse.

  When she had arranged the skirt of her habit, she looked down at Eve. "I shall not put it out of my mind. Doubtless I have surprised you, but I believe you will soon accept my love. You must realize we would be well suited to each other." With that dramatic statement, she turned her horse and urged him into a trot.

  Eve quickly mounted and followed her, mind awhirl.

  The dilemma occupied Eve's thoughts the rest of the day, until she could not concentrate on her assigned work. Only one possible solution presented itself amid all the possible scenarios she envisioned--some farcical, some heartbreaking, and most bringing an end to her masquerade.

  When the ladies withdrew after dinner, she asked Quinton if he would grant her a few moments of private speech before they took the port into the drawing room as they usually did.

  "Surely, Eve. In fact, I confess I would not mind remaining here for some time. I love my little sister, but I find that her artless chatter does sometimes pall. Neither does Miss Comstock have a fund of interesting conversation. Yet, having invited them here, I feel I must entertain them in the evenings." He filled their glasses and lounged back in his chair. "There was something you wished to say to me?"

  "There is, sir, and I am not sure how I should begin." Eve sat silent for a moment, wishing she could confess all to him. But as yet unwilling to face the consequences of her masquerade, she decided to get over the ground as lightly as she could.

  "Miss Penelope, this afternoon, gave me quite an unpleasant surprise," she said, choosing her words carefully. "She indicated that she had ah...developed a tendre for me."

  At Quinton's start and angry scowl, she held up her hand. "Please, sir, hear me out. I call it an unpleasant surprise because I had no idea your sister viewed me as other than a friend. I have done nothing I am aware of that might engage her affections, and am extremely distressed that I should have done so."

  After staring at her for a long time, he spoke. "You say that you did nothing to encourage her in this. How then did it happen?" His expression revealed nothing of his feelings.

  "I do not know sir. It is an impossible situation. I attempted to reason with her, to point out the differences in our stations, but she would not hear me." Was I so different? No one could have convinced me that Leander was a cad.

  "There seems to be no other solution than that I resign my position and leave Fallowfeld." Something seemed to shatter inside Eve as she spoke. "Once I am gone, Miss Penelope should recover quickly, for I am convinced this is nothing more than a young girl's infatuation, easily recovered from."

  "What are your feelings for my sister?" Quinton asked Eve, his voice still without inflection.

  "She is a delightful child. I am fond of Penny--Miss Penelope--much as I would be fond of a sister, had I one. My feelings could never go beyond that, sir, I assure you."

  "I see." Quinton again leaned back, steepling his fingers before his face. He sat very still for a long time. "So you see your departure as a solution to this situation?" he finally said.

  "I do, sir," she replied, her chin almost quivering with the effort of keeping the tears from flowing. She tore her gaze from his and lowered it to her glass, clutched so tightly in both her hands that her knuckles were white. She waited for his next words.

  Quinton arose and paced about the room, movements abrupt, as if he were controlling a strong emotion.

  Anger? Eve did not, could not, move. Suddenly she felt his hands on her shoulders, gripping strongly.

  "Eve, I will not lose you because my silly chit of a sister fancies herself in love with you. I could never find another secretary who...plea...who suited me as you do." He gave her a small shake and then released her. "No. You will stay and I will speak to Penny."

  Eve was mute, so great her relief at his words. The tears she had held back thus far now coursed down her cheeks, unstoppable. She blinked rapidly, ashamed.

  "Here, you young idiot." Quinton handed her his handkerchief. "Do you then like your position so much that it brings tears to your eyes?" He patted her back. "Ah, Eve, you are still such a lad. I am constantly amazed that one so young as you could be so competent."

  "I am sorry, sir." Eve dried her tears and blew her nose. "You must think me a witless ninny to give in to tears. They are so unmanly."

  She raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. Looking him firmly in the eye, she said, "I assure you, Mr. Quinton, that I am not in the habit of weeping like a child. It will not happen again, sir."

  Quinton's mouth twitched, then he broke into the first full voice laugh that Eve had ever heard from him.

  She stared at him, astonished.

  "Witless ninny!" Quinton gasped out between shouts of laughter. "Unmanly!" He gave her a resounding clout on the shoulder, knocking her askew in her chair. "You woolly headed young jackanapes! Here you are, barely out of short coats, and you worry about being unmanly! Come, drink up. I want to propose a toast." He continued to chuckle as he refilled their glasses.

  "To Mr. Evelyn Dixon, the most exemplary of secretaries and the oldest man of eight and ten that ever was!" He raised his glass to Eve.

  "Now, what say you to a hand of piquet this evening, while we let Penny and Miss Comstock amuse themselves? I will speak with Penny in the morning, after I have had time to compose a suitable scold." Again he clapped Eve on the shoulder. "Come, you witless ninny. Bring the port."

  Eve did not ride the next morning, feeling she would be both safer and more comfortable in the office. In the few hours she was alone, she accomplished a credible volume of work, almost enough to make up for her inability to concentrate the previous day.

  Quinton did not join her until nearly noon. "You are in for an uncomfortable time, my young friend," he said as he seated himself at his desk. "Penny is playing the dramatic role of rejected maiden. You would do well to avoid her as much as possible for the next few days. I don't doubt that you will be the target of innumerable die-away gazes and heartfelt sighs for a long while."

  "You are probably right, sir," Eve said. "But she will recover eventually, as all young girls do from their first infatuations. And she may be
wiser for the experience."

  "As wise as you, my lad? I doubt she will ever attain that level of wisdom. No matter. What have you for my review this morning?"

  Eve handed him a stack of papers and they both fell to work.

  Unable to avoid Penny at dinner, Eve was impersonally friendly to her that evening and during the ensuing few days. Penny, her face wearing the pathetic expression of an abandoned calf, said little, but she did sigh frequently and with feeling.

  Miss Comstock, having been informed of the situation and commanded to ignore it, offered no sympathy. Both Eve and Quinton acted as if Penny were behaving normally.

  Hoping to distract his sister, Quinton made a suggestion a few days after Penny's declaration to Eve. He usually gave a dinner party for his neighbors, he told them at breakfast one morning. Perhaps Penelope would assist in planning it this year.

  Immediately Penny threw herself into the task with enthusiasm. She practically tripped over her own tongue in her excitement, proposing extravagant entertainment, suggesting exotic dishes to be served, and complaining she had nothing suitable to wear.

  With the party plans involving her attention, Penny gradually regained her usual exuberance. Within a se'ennight, her behavior was almost normal. She did, however, treat Eve with distant politeness rather than the friendliness of the first days of their acquaintance.

  With Fallowfeld lacking a housekeeper, Eve and Miss Comstock were pressed into service to make most of the arrangements. Penny did her best to help as well, but Eve soon realized that the girl had no idea of how to chose a menu or compose an invitation. When she mentioned this shortcoming of his sister's to Quinton, he seemed unconcerned. He assured Eve that the girl, once married, could always turn the management of the house over to a housekeeper. Eve was appalled he should be so insensitive of the skills necessary to a young lady.

  "But you cannot believe that, sir!" she cried. "Only think how the servants would hold her in disrespect were she not awake on every suit. It is vital that she learn housewifery, if only to ensure she will be able to oversee her household servants properly."

  "Are you telling me that my sister must learn to cook and clean like any common housemaid? Nonsense, Eve. Those activities are for servants, not for the daughter of an earl."

  "It is not nonsense, sir! Oh, I do not mean that Pen...Miss Penelope should become a drudge, but she must learn the principles of housewifery if she is to marry into a great house, as I am certain you hope she will do. I cannot believe you intend to allow her to marry without having the slightest idea of how she is to comport herself once she is a matron."

  "Well, then, let her mother-in-law teach her. That will ensure she will go on in a way that will be pleasing to her husband, for he will be accustomed to it." Quinton rose from his desk and took up his gloves, obviously impatient to be done with the subject. "What do you know of all this anyway, Eve? Surely your mother did not instruct you in womanish pursuits."

  By now Eve was thoroughly incensed with his lack of understanding. She sought the words to make him understand. "And if she had, sir, I would no doubt be the better for it. But no, it is because my mother lacked those skills deemed necessary to Society's matrons that I feel so strongly about this. She came to my father from a perfectly respectable home, but of the yeoman class, not of the ton. As a result, whenever my father entertained any who were his social peers, she felt uncomfortable for she had no one to teach her the manners and customs of Society. I would not see Penny in such a fix."

  "Penny does not come from a peasant's hovel," Quinton said.

  He paused when Eve stiffened in anger.

  "Never mind, lad, I spoke out of turn. Your mother could not have been other than a lady by nature to have produced you. I still do not see, however, what use Penny will have for such useless pursuits as ordering dinner, arranging flowers, and writing invitations."

  "Those are but a minor part of the skills she will need if she is to take her place in Society. Surely, Mr. Quinton, you never meant to simply take Penny to London and turn her loose upon the ton. You must have planned to engage a respectable woman to see her prepared for her Season and properly embarked upon it."

  "Not a bit of it. I will have no women in my house other than Penny and Miss Comstock."

  "Then you may be certain Penny's debut will be a disaster. If her impulsive nature and naiveté do not lead her into serious trouble, her lack of adequate chaperonage will make her persona non grata to most of Society's hostesses. Miss Comstock seems a most unsuitable companion for a young lady in her first Season, apparently lacking the style and sophistication to guide Penny as she should. And you cannot, for there must be many absolutely necessary events where a gentleman would be de trop."

  "Enough, Eve," Quinton said in icy, clipped tones. "Penny is my problem, not yours. And you overreach yourself. I am going riding." He stalked from the room, slapping his gloves against his thigh in irritation.

  Eve sank into a chair and buried her flaming face in trembling hands. Oh my, she thought, I have put my foot in it now. He will never forgive my presumption.

  After a few moments' reflection, she accepted that her angry words could not be recalled so she must make the best of whatever their effects would be. She decided that the only action she could take was to avoid the subject hereafter and attempt to behave as if the entire episode had never occurred. For the next few days she did so, and was relieved to see that Quinton did the same.

  * * * *

  Sir William and Lady Oatland were the proud parents of a son of sixteen and a daughter of eighteen. The girl, Edwina, had just finished her first Season in London and was swollen with her success. She had managed to snare a wealthy widower, a baronet, with two small children. Considering that her visage bordered on the equine, her voice grated on the ear, and her bodily proportions resembled nothing so much as an exceedingly plump pear, such an accomplishment was praiseworthy. Will Oatland was spotty faced and clumsy, his arms and legs still not adjusted to a recent spurt of rapid growth.

  The other family with children near Penelope in age comprised the Widow Thompson and her two sons. The elder, Richard, had just come down from Cambridge and was full of his own importance, for he had been offered a minor post in the government. The younger, Harry, was destined for a career in the ministry and he already showed traces of the pomposity and assumed omniscience that characterize so many of that profession.

  The rest of the guests were an interesting assortment of old and almost young, mostly neighbors with whom Quinton felt comfortable. He assigned Eve the task of overseeing the young people's activities so that he could, in his own words, enjoy being a host.

  Quinton's valet had done his utmost with Eve's best coat and trousers, but when the guests entered, she felt as though her garments were unspeakably shabby. Her embarrassment hardly mattered though, for none of the guests except young Master Oatland so much as glanced at her, once she had been introduced as Quinton's secretary.

  Both of the young men immediately paid court to Penny, who gloried in their evident admiration. Eve overheard several remarks from the lips of Richard Thompson that bordered on warm, but not enough so that she felt constrained to interfere in Penny's first real flirtation.

  Despite Miss Oatland's being engaged, it was evident she held a tendre for the self-important Mr. Thompson. She did her best to cut Penny out from his company, though not too successfully.

  Will Oatland flirted ineptly with Penny, and was soon ignored. Eve bit her lip, wishing it was her place to remind Penny of what good manners demanded of the hostess. Miss Comstock seemed oblivious to any problem, and Quinton was conversing with some of his other guests in the library.

  Harry Thompson refused to partake of the dancing. He confided to Eve, as the two stood on the sidelines watching several couples move through the pattern of a round dance, that he considered dancing a snare of Satan. He had often tried to convince his older brother not to engage in it. "But Will is a sinner born, Mr. Dixon, and
I fear his soul is lost for all eternity."

  As soon as she could get a word in edgewise, Eve excused herself, explaining that she had a duty to all of her employer's guests. She quickly joined Penny, who was laughing immoderately at something said by the elder Mr. Thompson.

  Miss Comstock was engaged in a lively conversation with an elderly neighbor and not paying attention to her charge.

  "Miss Penelope, may I speak to you privately," Eve said, as soon as there was a pause in the laughter.

  "Don't interrupt me, Eve," Penny told her without even so much as a glance. To her companion, she said, "My brother's secretary. Very much the busybody, don't you know."

  Now Eve had heard Penny giggle, had heard her laugh without restraint, but never before had she heard anything like the shrill, affected "Tee hee hee."

  For two pence I would leave her to her own devices. But she could not, for Quinton had specifically requested her to keep a close eye on his sister. So she clasped Penny's elbow tightly and said, "Your brother wishes to speak to you."

  Penny tried to break free, but Eve had been expecting her to do so. She held fast.

  "Oh, very well!" Flouncing, Penny walked beside Eve toward the library.

  In the hall, Eve drew her to a halt. "I relayed your brother's request as a device to lure you away from Mr. Thompson, Penny. He does not wish to speak to you, but I do. You must be made aware that your behavior verges on the unladylike."

  "Why you meddlesome..." Penny all but sputtered in her ire. "My behavior is none of your concern!"

  "On the contrary. Your brother feared you might, in your inexperience, commit a faux pas. I am only doing as he asked and reminding you that your behavior reflects on him."

  "Am I to have no fun at all then! Should I sit on the sidelines with the matrons?"

  "You may have all the fun you wish, as long as you behave like the lady you are. No more loud and immoderate laughter, no more allowing Mr. Thompson to monopolize your company."

  Penny stamped her dainty little foot. "I will do as I please."

  "Then so will I," Eve said, stung, yet feeling like an ogre. "And I will be pleased to inform your brother that you are making a great cake of yourself and should be sent to bed like the child you act."