The Secretary Read Free

as he demanded of himself. Was that too much to ask?
    Apparently it was, for he now found himself without a secretary two days before the next session of Parliament was set to open. It was deuced inconvenient, he thought, but there was nothing else to be done. “Yes,” he said after a long silence, “yes, I suppose we had better begin sending enquiries.”
    “Very good, My Lord,” Phelps said, and he turned and left the room silently.
    It was too bad he couldn’t take Phelps on as a secretary, Anders thought now. The man was remarkably efficient and never complained no matter how steep his workload became. But Phelps had stayed on with him after the previous earl, Anders’s uncle, had died, and that kind of loyalty meant something, though what he wasn’t sure. It certainly meant that Phelps did not deserve to be punished by having to take dictation and run back-room letters at two in the morning. Though where Anders was going to find someone willing to do those things as well as organize his papers and critique his speeches he had no idea. It seemed that he had been through every reputable secretary in London in addition to a few of the disreputable ones. There couldn’t be many more left unless he tried to poach someone from another member, and that could very easily end in disaster.
    No matter how bad, there could be few disasters worse than the mess that waited atop his desk. He was staring at the pile when Phelps returned.
    “Viscount Sidney, My Lord,” he announced as Anders’s oldest friend, Leo Chesney, swept through the door.
    “Leo,” Ander said, rising to shake the man’s hand. “How was Sussex?”
    “Stifling, as always,” Leo replied. “I came up as soon as I could. The twins are unbearable,” he added, wincing. Anders winced right along. Leo had twin sisters who were due to make their come-out in the spring. Anders had known them as long as Leo had, and he was rather impressed that his friend had managed to endure a whole month in their company. They were dear enough girls, but when exposed to ladies’ magazines and lace samples they became positive terrors.
    “Come and sit down, if you can find another chair in this mess,” Anders offered.
    As Leo plopped down into a nearby seat, he asked, “Wasn’t that your secretary I saw storming down the street just now?”
    “ Former secretary,” Anders muttered, returning to his desk to stare forlornly at the heap.
    “Good Lord, Anders, hasn’t he only been here a week?”
    “Eight days.”
    “Do you think you could manage to put up with a man for a fortnight at least? Doesn’t this sort of upheaval wreak havoc on your schedule?” Leo looked genuinely concerned. “I suppose that means you haven’t had time to read the bill.”
    Anders kept his gaze fixed on the mountain of papers. Somewhere in there was a bill his friend had asked him to read, but it would take some sort of excavating device to find it and right now Anders lacked the motivation for that sort of dig. “I will find it,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to read it all morning.”
    “With this sort of organization, I’m amazed your whole study hasn’t fallen down around your ears. I came to invite you to the club, but it looks as though you have your hands full.”
    “Indeed,” Anders said. “And now I must find a new secretary on top of everything else.”
    “If I had a secretary I might be able to let you borrow him, but, alas, some of us choose not to work quite as hard as you.”
    Anders glowered at him.
    “Well, I’ll bid you good-day then. Think about coming to Barney’s this evening for cards, would you?”
    “I’ll think about it,” Anders promised, though he was certain he would be working. Leo had an enviable ability to flit from one thing to another without getting too committed. Anders had not developed that talent. When he did something, he went all-out, which meant that he had thrown himself into the business of being in the House of Lords with a