CHAPTER15
“If we write this in next week’s issue, we are sure to attract many additional readers!” Collette, her gossip columnist argued, but Phoebe adamantly shook her head.
“We will not sully the girl’s reputation.”
“But it is done all the time!” Collette’s voice rang around the open space where all of the writers worked. Eventually Phoebe hoped to have some separation, but for now, the building’s original layout remained. Only she and Rhoda had their own private offices down the corridor, though to call them offices was, perhaps, rather generous.
“It’s an exclusive! I am the only one who saw their embrace. Why, people will be lining up to buy our paper. How could I not run it, Miss Winters?”
Phoebe sighed, placing a hand on her hip. This was the trouble with a gossip column. She understood the draw, and she appreciated Collette’s efforts, but at the same time, her purpose was not to go around ruining the lives of young girls.
“We do not know enough details, Collette. Perhaps she simply fell and the Duke caught her to prevent her from injuring herself.”
Collette scoffed, knowing as well as Phoebe that was certainlynotthe case.
“Fine,” Phoebe finally compromised. “How about this? Run the piece, but ensure none will know the identities of those you write about. And not just the Duke of M. and Lady F.N. or any of that nonsense. Understand?”
The girl finally nodded and returned to her desk, though she continued to look up at Phoebe moodily. This was one aspect of running the newspaper that Phoebe didn’t particularly enjoy. Typically she would have Rhoda deal with such matters, but when she was in the building and it was so close to the publishing deadline, she liked to have the final word.
She heard the door open behind her, smelled the air of the London street — a strange mix of smoke, spice, and, oddly, freshness — fill the room, and she turned.
“Julia!” she greeted her friend with delight. Julia smiled widely as she was followed in by a maid, who sat dutifully by the door. “I was hoping you would come yourself today.”
Depending on her prior engagements, Julia sometimes sent in her column through a messenger, though at times she came herself.
“I love seeing everyone at work,” she said wistfully, looking around at all of the writers. “How lovely it would be to actually do my writing here amongst the other women.”
“You are more than welcome to,” Phoebe offered, but Julia shook her head, her curls dancing.
“I would never be able to make my excuses to my parents for such a time. And as much as I love them, somehow I think this would be a bit much for them.”
Phoebe nodded in understanding.
“But I am so grateful for the opportunity,” Julia continued, placing a gloved hand on Phoebe’s arm. “I have always enjoyed watching the races, but never with such purpose as I do now!"
After ensuring Rhoda received Julia’s piece, Phoebe led the way to her office. She hadn’t changed much in the small room since they had begun publishing — there simply hadn’t been time. It was rather horrid, she knew, with its nearly broken chair and scarred desk, but it filled her purpose for now. Julia took one look at the chair and instead perched on the corner of the desk, a cat-like smile on her lips as she contemplated Phoebe, who took a breath, as she knew very well what was coming next.
“So,” Julia said, swinging a leg back and forth, her skirts sailing around her as she did. “You looked awfully chummy with the marquess this morning.”
Phoebe picked up her quill pen and twirled it between her fingers.
“He called upon me while I was about to leave to come here,” she said with a wave of the pen. “Unfortunately, I could not think of an excuse in time, and then my resolve was weakened by that dog of his. I did have a lovely time with Maxwell.”
“The way he looked at you – the marquess, not the dog – was magical,” Julia said with a wistful smile. “Why, I would give anything for a man to contemplate me like that. The question is, how doyoufeel abouthim?”
“I feel that he is a nuisance,” Phoebe said brusquely, dipping her pen in the ink. She loved Julia, and any other time would welcome conversation, but she didn’t particularly feel like speaking of this, and she hoped Julia would pick up on her signal of just how busy she was.
She was to be disappointed.
Julia hopped off the desk but now leaned into it with her hip, lowering her voice so no one else could hear.
“Phoebe,” she murmured. “I know why you initially began this… flirtation with him, or whatever you would like to call it. By now you must have made enough progress, have you not? Should you not be ending things soon?”
“I have determined that he knows nothing, that is true,” she said with a nod, her stomach oddly sinking when she considered her time with Jeffrey coming to an end. “Yet. I cannot be certain it will remain that way.”
“So what will you do?” Julia asked, spreading her hands wide, “Are you going to simply continue courting the man? Will you marry him eventually?”
“Of course not,” Phoebe said, looking up at Julia sharply.