Chapter 9 #2
“Why are there young ladies here?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“Because they work here,” he said.
“They do what?” she yelped, her bonnet ribbons fluttering.
“They work here,” he repeated, realizing her shock. In all her life, she’d never understood that a lady could do such work, and he suddenly felt a note of pride that he was the one who had brought her here.
“Did you think my Aunt Mercy was the only woman in the publishing house?”
“I suppose I did,” she murmured, still full of awe.
“Well, Aunt Mercy and sometimes other members of my family work here.” And then he studied her and winked. “Perhaps you should get a job,” he said.
She batted his arm. “Deimos, don’t be terrible. You know I cannot.”
“I thought perhaps what was good for the goose could be good for the gander, and all that. And it’s not impossible.”
“Another terrible cliché,” she sighed, even as intrigue shone in her eyes.
“It’s accurate,” he pointed out.
“Fine,” she replied, then she pursed her lips and gave him a merry look. “Perhaps I should get a job. I thought you were going to take me to glittering palaces and show me frivolous things. This is far better than anything like that.”
“Do you think so?” he asked, because he had been a little bit worried that she would be disappointed.
But he’d known from their encounter in the field that she was no ornamental thing.
No, she was a creature of power, made for far more important things than fluttering at parties.
She had the mind to manage people, rooms, and ideas.
How could he reduce her to naught but teacups and lace?
That would never make her happy. She’d already had those things.
She stared up at the stairs which wound up several stories.
“This is bliss.” And then she closed her eyes. “Do you smell it?”
He frowned. “Smell what?” he asked.
“The ink,” she breathed.
He let out a long laugh. “Oh, Alice, I think you’ve found your home.”
She grinned at him. “Perhaps,” she said. “The paper is delicious too.”
“Come along then,” he urged. “I’m going to introduce you to one of my aunt’s editors. He took her arm and led her up the stairs. “Mrs. Madison is awaiting us.”
“Mrs. Madison,” she exclaimed. “A lady?”
“Some might not say that she’s a lady exactly, but she certainly comes from a home in which she was educated in the ways of a lady,” he said.
“She was supposed to be a governess, but my aunt snatched her up, saying that she was far more suited for this than wiping runny noses. Though my aunt has a very high respect for governesses because they do shape the future. However, many young ladies have to take up that position when they do not wish to because it is the only one open to them.”
She nodded, taking his words most seriously as she followed him. “Yes, we did have a governess once when I was small who clearly hated it beyond all things, and we were not terrible children. She simply had no other way to make money.”
“I imagine you were wonderful as a child,” he said.
She batted his arm again. “Stop complimenting me so much. It won’t work.”
“What won’t work?” he asked.
“Your attempts to persuade me that you admire me with no recrimination.”
He gazed down at her. “Alice, I do admire you with no recrimination.”
How could she think otherwise?
But he realized that she did. She must have thought that there was some part of him that thought less of her, but he didn’t. He never could. He took her up the stairs.
Several people darted around them, all of whom knew him and gave him nods as they headed to the editing floor. He stopped at the third landing and wound their way down a narrow but well-lit corridor.
He stopped at the door, gave a rap, and then heard, “Come in.”
He swung the door open and ushered Alice before him. Mrs. Madison sat behind her desk, which was stacked with papers, books, ink, pens, blotting paper, and a host of teacups.
Her dark hair was atop her head in a knot that was arranged with braids and a simple ribbon. Her eyes strained ever so slightly as she studied a page.
“Just one moment,” she called. “I am finishing a particularly wandering sentence written by a dear author who occasionally becomes overborne with emotion when putting her pen to page.”
Alice let out a laugh and he smiled down at her, loving how at ease she felt.
“Does that often happen?” Alice asked after a moment.
Mrs. Madison finished her notation, then looked up, rubbed her temples, and stood. It was clear that she’d been sitting a long time before she stretched her back, crossed around her desk, and much to Alice’s surprise, extended her hand to her.
Alice stared at the appendage for a moment and then shook it. Alice, though not a grand lady, was also not accustomed to the behaviors of middle-class people.
“They do,” the editor said at last. “Poor authors.” She tsked. “They always need assurance, and they’re always going on and on. Sometimes their sentences are too short, sometimes they are too long, and occasionally they get it just right.”
Alice grinned at her. “So you read books all day long?”
“I read books all day long that are in the stages of becoming books,” she said. “Really, it’s like receiving a baby and helping it grow into an adult.”
“How fascinating,” Alice said.
Mrs. Madison looked quite pleased. “Do you really think so?”
Alice nodded. “Indeed, I do.”
“She loves books,” Deimos boasted.
“I love books too,” replied Mrs. Madison, tugging at her ink-stained sleeves.
“Everyone here loves books. That’s the one thing that Duchess Mercy insists upon.
We all must have a great love of books, not just literature, but books of every sort.
And some of us, well, some of us hope to help more young ladies be allowed to read even more books.
And so next month, we are starting a new line that is written entirely for the dedication of ladies.
It will have a lending library and go out to the countryside.
Too many young ladies are being told by society that novels rot their brains and that they should keep themselves to sermons. ”
Alice sucked in a sharp gasp. “That is a horrible thing to say.”
Mrs. Madison beamed at her. “You clearly belong here.”
Alice nibbled her lower lip, then ventured, “I’m beginning to think so, yes.”
“Oh, she definitely belongs here,” Deimos said. “It’s why I brought her.”
Mrs. Madison grinned. “Would you like a tour?”
“More than anything,” Alice said.
Deimos took a step back, happy to watch Alice bloom.