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A Man Most Worthy

By Ruth Axtell Morren

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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Richmond, England, June 1875

The numbers wouldn't add up. Nick ran his ink-smudged finger up the neat column of figures and back down again.

A smothered giggle disrupted his concentration. With a frown, he glanced up from his desk, irritated that he'd have to begin adding for a third time.

He stared.

The most exquisite creature stood in the doorway to his small office, a finger to her lips. In her navy blue pleated skirt and sailor blouse, she appeared no more than sixteen.

Before he could do or say anything, she moved into his space, bringing with her a vitality the dusty nook had probably not seen in a decade.

Her eyes were wide, pleading, yet with a touch of mischief. "Shh!" she whispered. "Don't tell them I'm here."

He almost jumped out of his seat as she came around his desk and crouched behind it at his feet.

He drew his legs in, his eyes drawn to her slim, pale hands clasped over her knees. She lifted her head. "You won't give me away, will you?" Her sparkling deep blue eyes looked up at his in a conspiratorial smile. They must be what the poets called violet. Another part of his mind noticed the coppery shade of her hair. It was worn down, as befitted a schoolgirl, with a deep fringe across her wide forehead, and drawn away from her face with a wide blue bow in the back. Her hair was very straight but its toffee-colored tones glistened in the bit of light from his small lamp.

A noise at the door caused him to look up again. A youth and another young lady stood at the doorjamb, their faces peering doubtfully in.

The young gentleman ran a disdainful eye across the room. "You don't think she came in here, do you?"

The young lady, also pretty, but nothing compared to the one crouched at Nick's feet, put her hands on the hips of her similar schoolgirl outfit and took a slow turn about the cramped space, her slim nose wrinkled. "I daresay not. There's not space in here to hide a pin in!"

Nick couldn't help glancing down at the girl at his feet, and experienced once again a moment of shock at her loveliness as she glanced up at him, her finger to her lips.

"I say, you haven't seen a young lady run by here, have you, my good fellow?"

Nick immediately took umbrage to the young man's tone. Instead of replying, he picked up his pencil and pretended to go over his figures again.

The young man cleared his throat. "See here, I'm addressing you."

Without straightening from his work, Nick's gaze flickered up. "I beg your pardon?"

A look of annoyance crossed the young man's fine features. "Never mind. I shall look for myself. Come on, Lucy." He beckoned to the young lady standing at his side.

"Alice wouldn't hide in here," she said with a toss of her head. "Why are we wasting our time in this stuffy hole? There's nothing but dust and paper in here." As if to prove her point, she sneezed.

"You're right." With a sniff, the young gentleman backed out the door. The girl followed after him. Their voices faded down the corridor. "We shall find you, Alice. You can't hide from us!"

Silence descended once more in the office. Before Nick had a chance to move, the girl stood in one quick motion, smoothing down her skirt. "Thank you ever so much, Mr.—"

"Tennent," he said without thinking, pushing his chair back and standing.

She bobbed a quick curtsy then studied him a moment. He wondered what those stunning eyes saw. More than the other girl, no doubt, who had looked right past him as if he'd been no more than the blotter on his desk.

"You're Father's secretary?"

He nodded. So, this lovely creature was the offspring of Mr. Shepard.

She put a finger to her chin and tilted her head. "This is the first time he's brought his secretary out to Richmond, at least as far as I can recall." Her cheeks dimpled. "But then, I'm rarely home myself, so I wouldn't know."

He fingered the pencil he still held in his hand, trying to maintain a poise he was far from feeling. "I imagine your father wanted to have this project finished as quickly as possible. It demands much time and attention right now."

She cast a glance over the papers on his desk. "All Father's projects seem to require much time and attention." Was that irony in one so young? Her lashes, the same deep coppery tone as her hair, formed deep curves against the delicate, pale skin.

He frowned at her statement. "One doesn't rise to the importance of Mr. Shepard without a lot of time and effort."

Her eyes came up to study him. "You admire him."

"There is much to be admired." He lifted his chin a trifle defensively.

She ran a slim forefinger along the edge of the beat-up desk as she walked around it. He found he could breathe slightly easier when she'd moved a few feet away from him. "Most people do, don't they?" She glanced back at him, her finger still on the desk. "Admire him, I mean?"

"I imagine they do."

She nodded. "Is he a nice employer to you?"

He raised his eyebrows at her direct question, unaccustomed to someone asking him about his situation. "I have only been in his employ a fortnight, and it is not my place to comment on your father's treatment of his employees."

"Of course not. You were very cool to Victor."

Her statement threw him, until he realized she was referring to the young gentleman just in the room. "A playmate of yours?"

"I've known them both since childhood."

"Does that make them your friends?"

She tilted her head and a slow smile spread across her face. "I… don't know. I'd never really thought about it."

As if the mention of them summoned them, he heard their voices once again from the end of the corridor.

"Now, I say, Alice, we've searched this place from top to bottom—"

She sighed and took a step toward the door. "I'd better leave you to your work before they barge in on you again. I do apologize for interrupting your work, Mr. Tennent. I'm sure it's important."

He shook his head, trying to dispel the wave of disappointment he felt at her departure. "No need to apologize." He looked down at his column of figures, reassuming a business-like tone. "Good day to you, Miss Shepard."

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tennent."

She sounded like a society lady, the kind of women he only saw from a distance in London. Hearing Victor's voice closer, she flashed him a smile then spun on her heel and left the room, once again the young schoolgirl.

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