nothing more that we can do for you, Miss Lodge.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Miss Lodge said.
Mrs. Willis beetled her brows. “How do you expect us to find a place for you, Miss Lodge, when you have steadfastly refused to adopt the appropriate demeanor required of a successful paid companion? We have explained time and again that meekness, humility and quiet, restrained speech are imperative.”
“Bah, I have been meek and humble to a fault.” Miss Lodge appeared sincerely affronted by the criticism. “And as for quiet speech, I challenge either of you to prove that my conversation has been anything but quiet and restrained.”
Mrs. Willis raised her eyes to the ceiling, evidently seeking help from a higher power.
Mrs. Goodhew snorted. “Your notion of appropriate behavior differs markedly from that of this agency. We are unable to do anything more for you, Miss Lodge.”
Arthur noticed that Miss Lodge was starting to look worried now. Her firm, elegant jaw tightened visibly. He could see that she was about to change tactics.
“Let us not be too hasty here,” she said smoothly. “I am certain there must be other potential employers in your files.” She gave both women a sudden, brilliant smile that could have lit up an entire ballroom. “If you will allow me to look through them, I can no doubt save all of us a good deal of time.”
“Let you examine our client files?” Mrs. Willis flinched as though she had touched an electricity machine. “Out of the question. Those files are confidential.”
“Calm yourself” Miss Lodge said. “I have no intention of gossiping about your clients. I merely wish to peruse the files so that I may make an informed decision concerning my future employment.”
Mrs. Willis squinted at her down the long length of her sharp nose. “You do not seem to grasp the salient point here, Miss Lodge. It is the
client
who makes the decision when it comes to filling the post, not the applicant.”
“On the contrary.” Miss Lodge took a step closer to Mrs. Willis’s desk, leaned over slightly and flattened her gloved hands on the polished surface. “It is you who fail to comprehend. I cannot afford to fritter away any more time on this project. Allowing me to examine the files seems an entirely sensible approach to the problem we face.”
“We
do not face a problem, Miss Lodge.” Mrs. Goodhew raised her brows. “You face one. I fear that from now on, you must face it somewhere else.”
“That is quite impossible,” Miss Lodge looked at her. “I have already explained that there is not enough time left for me to apply to another agency. I must have a position before Mrs. Egan departs for the country.”
Arthur made his decision. “Perhaps you would care to consider one more offer of employment from this agency, Miss Lodge.”
3
The sound of his voice, dark, chilled, controlled and seemingly emanating from the gloom behind her, unnerved Elenora to such a degree that she very nearly dropped her reticule.
She whirled around with a tiny, stifled gasp. For a few disturbing seconds she could not make him out clearly, but she knew instantly that whoever he was, he could well prove dangerous. An oddly exhilarating thrill of anticipation swept through her.
Hastily, she tried to shake off the sensation. She had never reacted like this to any man. It was no doubt a trick of the poor light. The fog had closed in very snugly around the windows, and the two small lamps on the desks of Mrs. Goodhew and Mrs. Willis created more shadows than they dispelled.
Then she realized that she was still wearing the spectacles she had borrowed from Mrs. Egan to enhance her appearance as a proper companion for today’s interviews. She reached up very quickly, plucked the eyeglasses from her nose and blinked a couple of times to refocus her vision.
She could see the man in the shadows quite clearly now, but that did not do much to alter her initial impression. If anything it