Chapter 5
Ellis sat at her small desk transcribing a letter from the shorthand she’d taken earlier. Keele had dictated several letters, and she’d finally reached the last one.
This second week had been as busy as the first, but they’d settled into a now-familiar routine.
Most mornings, Keele went to the Lacey and Company office on Paternoster Row or to one of the subscription libraries in London.
New Bond Street was the main branch, but there were smaller ones in the Strand, Bloomsbury, and Marylebone.
Apparently, he sometimes ventured to libraries in other cities and towns, but he did not have any current plans to do so.
He spent the afternoons here in the study. Ellis usually worked alongside him—each of them busy at their own desks, which were in close proximity.
His solicitor had come one day last week, and another peer from the House of Lords had visited for a meeting.
He’d seemed rather put out because Keele rarely went to clubs where government business was often discussed.
Ellis had learned that Keele only visited the Phoenix Club—perhaps once or twice a week—and that this noble was not a member there.
Keele was unlike any peer she’d met, not that she knew a great many.
Still, she was acquainted with several because of her former position as the companion to Lady Minerva, daughter of the Duke of Henlow and sister of the Earl of Shefford.
Furthermore, several of their friends were now wedded to peers.
Pandora’s sister, Persephone—or Persey as they called her—was married to the Duke of Wellesbourne, whilst another was the Baroness Droxton.
Min’s new sister-in-law had become the Viscountess Somerton earlier this year.
All those peers, save Droxton, who was terribly serious, had past reputations as rogues and scoundrels.
They were the very reason Ellis and her friends had come up with the rogue rules—to stay clear of men like them.
And yet, several of their number had broken their own rules and married precisely the blackguards they’d planned to avoid.
Ellis had never imagined the rules were for her, because she wasn’t in their position.
No one was trying to arrange an advantageous marriage for her, nor was any rogue hoping to gain her hand for wealth or position.
One might, however, attempt to lure her into his bed.
And one had been successful—but that was years ago, long before the Rogue Rules had been devised.
Recently, Ellis had begun to wonder if she might ever consider another such liaison.
Keele sat at his desk to her left. She was always aware of his presence. He worked very hard, and she found industriousness attractive, apparently.
She also couldn’t deny that he was exceptionally handsome. He looked as though he’d been carved from rough stone and could weather anything. Yes, that was incredibly appealing to her.
Which was why she kept stealing glances at him. Thankfully, he had yet to catch her surreptitious perusals. Pausing in her writing, she darted her gaze to the left.
Bloody hell. He was staring right at her.
Her pulse picked up speed. She hoped he couldn’t see she was flustered.
“Pritchard responded to my letter,” he said, gesturing with a piece of parchment.
Ellis straightened and angled herself slightly toward him, relieved he seemed not to be aware of her notice.
On Monday, they’d dispatched a letter to Oliver Pritchard, the librarian they employed in Oxford.
Keele and Mr. Lacey had discussed making him the head librarian on New Bond Street but first wanted to ascertain whether he was interested.
“What does he say?” Ellis asked.
“He’s quite enthusiastic about the prospect.” Keele set the letter on the desk, grimacing faintly. Then he pressed his hand against his forehead before wiping it down over his eyes. “Unfortunately, that means I have to determine what to do with Mr. Inman, the librarian at New Bond Street.”
Ellis knew Mr. Inman from when she’d visited the library with Min, but she hadn’t told Keele that.
She didn’t want him to know anything so specific about the life she’d led before coming to work for him.
He already knew too much, since he was aware of her friendship with Pandora and other influential—as he called them—people.
“I assumed Inman was retiring, and that was why you were seeking a replacement,” she said. “Is that not the case?”
Keele shook his head. “Pritchard is an exceptionally good librarian—he’s grown the subscriptions at Oxford exponentially.
We’d like to see him in charge at our largest branch.
” He frowned. “But I hate to displace Inman. He’s been with the New Bond Street branch since Josiah opened it over a decade ago. ”
“That is a dilemma,” she said softly.
Roman sat forward in his chair and leaned toward her over the desk. “Do you have any suggestions for how I might deal with this situation? Inman is past sixty. Shouldn’t he want to retire?”
As it happened, Ellis knew Mr. Inman wished to spend more time with his children and grandchildren, particularly after his wife had died last year.
However, she couldn’t tell Keele any of that without revealing how she knew.
“He may. I would say that people like to feel valued, especially at the end of their service. Perhaps if you made his retirement seem like an honor that he’s earned, he might embrace it. ”
“I know he’s widowed,” Keele said. “I’m concerned he appreciates having this job to fill his days.”
“Perhaps you could give him something to do that takes less time,” Ellis suggested.
“That’s a good idea. Inman has been an extraordinary asset to Lacey and Company. I would truly hate to lose him entirely.” He thought for a moment before meeting her gaze once more. “Do you have any thoughts as to what he could do?”
Ellis lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps he can be a consulting librarian. He could host literary discussions in one of the reading rooms. You could even name the room after him. I imagine he would feel very honored.”
Keele grinned, and Ellis felt as though she were floating. The room around them disappeared, leaving her in just the glorious warmth of his smile.
“You are a genius, Ellis.”
“Thank you.” She liked his compliments more than she should, and now she was back to thinking about how attracted she was to him. Perhaps that was because he was staring at her mouth.
He suddenly stood and leaned further over the desk. What was he doing? Had he somehow read her thoughts, felt the same attraction, and decided to act upon it?
Reaching out, he nearly put his thumb to her lower lip. But he froze just before he made contact with her flesh. Their eyes met and held. Her breath caught.
Again, the room stilled and faded. Ellis felt a pull toward Keele, like a magnet drawing her. She parted her lips.
He blinked. The spell dissipated, and the study returned. Ellis took a breath.
“Forgive me.” He withdrew his hand and sat back down. “You’ve ink on your lip. At least, I think it’s ink.”
Oh. “That happens sometimes when I’m writing.” She turned her body toward her desk once more and shifted her focus to her work. “I’ll tidy it when I’m finished with this letter. I’ve only a few lines left.”
“Should I get you a mirror to keep in your desk?” he asked. “So that you can ensure you don’t have ink on your face in future?”
“No,” she replied quickly, self-conscious that her appearance was lacking, which was ridiculous, because she didn’t even look like herself. He’d never even seen her as a woman. What did it matter if his secretary had ink on his lip?
She hurriedly finished the letter, then practically jumped to her feet. “Please excuse me for a few minutes.”
“Please don’t worry about the ink,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m quite comfortable.” How asinine that sounded.
Her heart had not slowed to a regular pace since he’d nearly touched her, and she realized it had nothing to do with the ink on her face and everything to do with how much she wanted him to touch her.
The reason she needed to leave right now was not to clean her face, though she would, but to calm herself and cool the heat rising within her.
This attraction she felt for her employer was dangerous, and she could not afford to lose her job.
She simply had to stop thinking of him as an alluring gentleman.
That would be much easier if he could just stop being one.
This was the first night Roman had taken dinner in his study with Ellis. He’d wanted to suggest it a couple of days ago, but they’d shared that awkward moment when he tried to wipe the ink from her lip, and he didn’t extend the invitation.
He didn’t know what he’d been thinking trying to touch her like that. Noting the ink on her lower lip, he’d tried to ignore it. Except he was often drawn to her mouth anyway, and the presence of the ink only attracted his attention more fiercely. Could one be jealous of an ink smudge?
Ultimately, he’d leaned forward to wipe it away with his thumb.
Thankfully, he’d stopped himself a moment before committing the indiscretion.
Even so, there had been a long, rather charged moment between them as he realized what he’d done—and she had too.
What he couldn’t decide was whether she was horrified at his behavior or, and this seemed unlikely, that she was disappointed that he’d stopped.
He was foolish even to think that, let alone hope for it.
They had a professional relationship, and though he had a clear and persistent attraction to her, he had to assume it was one-sided.
Even if it wasn’t, what were they to do about it?
He was her employer. He was not the sort of man who took advantage of those who worked for him in any role.