Laura Lee Guhrke - With Seduction in Mind

Daisy Merrick was unemployed. Such a circumstance wasnt unusualDaisy had

Why George Lindsay? Lucy glanced up from the newspaper in

Daisy supposed most people would find Sebastian Grant a bit

Daisy felt her meeting with Lord Marlowe had gone well.

To say that Sebastian Grant looked displeased was something of

Every time Sebastian thought of Daisy Merricks pleased little smile,

Dressed for bed, Daisy was sprawled across the rug in

You must be in need of tea. Lady Mathilda reached

Sebastian had never been a man who believed all that

Sir?

He hated to write. Daisy found that difficult to comprehend.

The moment he touched his mouth to hers, Sebastian knew

Daisy could not sleep. Her outrageous proposition reverberated through her

Sebastian walked down the path at a rapid clip, his

He wrote about her. He called her Amelie, and gave

The following morning, she found out he was gone. Unexpected

Shed had no idea. If anyone had ever told her

Mathilda wasted no time. Sebastian was dressing for dinner when

Daisys words began echoing in Sebastians ears the moment she

All the worlds a stage, and all the men

and women merely players:

they have their exits and their entrances;

and one man in his time plays many parts.

William Shakespeare

London, May 1896

D aisy Merrick was unemployed. Such a circumstance wasnt unusualDaisy had been in that particular pickle many times before. Some people, including her sister, were inclined to see her ever-changing job situation as her own fault, but to Daisys mind that opinion was most unfair. Today was a perfect example.

Bristling with indignation, she marched out of the offices of Pettigrew and Finch, where she had just been informed by the matron in charge of typists that her services would no longer be required. And no, Matron had added upon her inquiry, they could not see clear to providing her with a letter of character. Given her shameless conduct, no favorable reference would be possible.

My shameless conduct? she muttered, pausing on the sidewalk to search for a passing omnibus amid the traffic that clogged Threadneedle Street. Mr. Pettigrew is the one who should be ashamed!

When that gentleman had cornered her in the supply closet, taken up her hand, and confessed to a deep and ardent passion for her, she had refused to succumb to his advances, as any respectable woman would have done. Yet, when informed by Matron Witherspoon a short time later that her employment had been terminated, Daisys indignant explanation had not saved her job. Mr. Pettigrew, Matron had reminded her with a superior little smile, was a founding partner of an important banking firm, and Daisy Merrick was a typist of no consequence whatsoever.

An omnibus turned the corner, and Daisy waved her arms in the air to hail the horse-drawn vehicle. When it stopped, she climbed aboard and handed over the three-pence fare that would take her home. As the omnibus jerked into motion, she secured an empty seat and considered how best to explain to Lucy that shed lost yet another job.

Though she knew the blame could not be laid at her door, she also knew her elder sister might not see things quite that way. Lucy would list all the reprimands Daisy had received from Matron for her impertinence during the three months of her employment with Pettigrew and Finch. No doubt, Lucy would remind Daisy of how Mr. Pettigrew had witnessed Matrons latest scolding a week earlier, of how he had patted her hand once the older woman had gone, of how he had called her honesty refreshing and assured her she had no reason to worry, of how hed said he would take care of her.

Lucy might even be tiresome enough to bring up the warnings she had issued regarding Mr. Pettigrews assurances, and her own blithe disregard of these warnings.

Daisy bit her lip. In hindsight, she knew she should have followed Lucys suggestion and informed Mr. Pettigrew that she couldnt impose upon him to intervene with Matron on her behalf. Had she done that, this mess might have been avoided. But having a sister who was always right could be so aggravating, and Daisy often felt an irresistible compulsion to fly in the face of Lucys well-meant advice. This had been one of those times.

The employment mishaps that plagued Daisys life never happened to her sister, of course. Lucy, Daisy thought with a hint of envy, was tact personified. If the stout, elderly, sweaty-faced Mr. Pettigrew had seized her by the hand, declared the violence of his affections, and promised her a tidy little income and a house in a discreet neighborhood, Lucy wouldnt have raised an eyebrow. She would have informed him in a dignified manner that she was not that sort of woman and that surely he would not wish to dishonor either of them by making unsavory assumptions about his female employees virtue. Such a prim, maidenly speechalong with a gentle reminder to think of his wife and childrenwould have had Mr. Pettigrew, one of Londons most important businessmen, hanging his head like a naughty schoolboy. He would have withdrawn from the supply closet thoroughly ashamed of himself, and the entire episode would have blown over.

Daisy, however, was not made of such stuff. Shed stared at Mr. Pettigrews perspiring face in openmouthed stupefaction for only two seconds before blurting out in characteristic fashion the first thought that entered her head: But youre so old!

Her impulsive reaction had sealed her fate. Instead of withdrawing from the supply closet feeling ashamed of himself, Mr. Pettigrew had departed in a huff of injured masculine dignity, and Daisy had lost her fourth post in less than a year.

It was her outspokenness that always seemed to land her in the suds. While working for a fashionable dressmaker, shed discovered most women did not want to hear the truth about their clothing choices. When asked for her opinion, a showroom woman did not tell the wealthy but stout client who adored silver satin that silver satin made her look fatter.

Daisy hadnt had any better success as a governess. A barons daughters, Lady Barrow had informed her, did not play games like rounders. They did not fill their coloring books with images of orange grass, green sky, and girls with purple hair. They didnt need to do sums and learn long division. No, a barons daughters sewed perfect samplers, painted perfect replicas of the Italian Masters, and made uselessbut perfectfalderal for their friends. When Daisy said that was just plain silly, shed been shipped home from Kent in disgrace.

As a typist for the legal firm of Ledbetter and Ghent, shed learned the hard way that Mr. Ledbetter did not appreciate having the errors in his legal briefs pointed out to him by a mere typist.

And now, there was Mr. Pettigrewpowerful, influential banker and lecherous cad. Another lesson learned, she thought with a sigh. A woman who earned her living needed tactful ways to contend with dishonorable propositions from the sterner sex.

Ah, well. Daisy tried to adopt a philosophical attitude. She gave a shrug and tucked a loose strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. Everything would turn out all right, she told herself as she leaned back in her seat and stared through the window at the brick-fronted publishing houses that lined Fleet Street. It wasnt as if she would be tossed into the street. Lucy was the proprietress of an employment agency, and after an inevitable round of I-told-you-sos, her sister would insist upon finding her yet another post.