The Secretary Read Free Page A

great deal more dedication than Leo had. But Leo also had a brain that naturally organized and compartmentalized everything, which was something Anders lacked. He needed a secretary to keep everything together. Otherwise, as Leo predicted, his study might just collapse around him.
    When Leo had gone, he sat back down behind the desk and lifted one of the piles. Mr. Carlisle had, unfortunately, been too timid to rearrange anything without Anders’s permission, and so the pile had only grown during his tenure. Suddenly Anders felt overwhelmed by the task that lay before him.
    “I think I’ll go and have a swim,” he said to no one in particular.
     
    At some point in the history of the family one of the previous Earls of Stowe had had some sort of spinal deformity and had been advised by his physician that daily immersion in water might be beneficial to his health. When Stowe House had been built on the edge of Belgrave Square it had, therefore, been constructed with a strange feature, but one for which Anders was daily grateful. In the cellar, carefully separated from the kitchens, was a swimming pool. It was a long narrow affair that stretched the full length of the house, the water warmed with an ingenious mechanism that diverted heat from the nearby stoves, and Anders had found that it was perfect for working out his frustrations. Now, in the dim light provided by a few candles—for the previous Earl had been much more modest than his descendent and had not had any windows built into the room—Anders stripped and slipped into the cool water. He slid under and swam two full lengths before coming up for air and brushing his shoulder-length hair out of his face. He really ought to have it cut back—it would make swimming much easier, after all. But with its dark color he thought the length gave him a daring, rakish look without his having to devote the time to actual rakish pursuits.
    Now Anders dove under again and allowed his mind to wander as he swam, losing track even of the lengths as he mulled over what he should do. He needed a secretary. He could not do without one. In Parliament a secretary not only organized one’s papers and set one’s schedule, they also served as an extra set of eyes and ears. A good secretary could listen to a speech and tell exactly which words should be changed for better effect. A great secretary could mean the difference between success and failure for a member of Parliament. Anders didn’t necessarily need a great secretary—he had only two years’ experience in the House of Lords but so far he had experienced enough success to satisfy him. He did, however, need a warm body capable of managing the myriad things for which Anders himself had not the time or the organizational capacity, especially now when time and organization were of the essence.
    Ever since becoming the eleventh Earl of Stowe two years earlier upon the death of his uncle, Anders had tried to live up to the title. His father had been the old earl’s younger brother, but his early death when Anders was only two had meant that Anders had spent little time with his uncle, especially after his mother remarried. In truth, Uncle Frederick had not been very interested in Anders either, or he might have taken the trouble to take his nephew and heir under his wing and guide him through the world that would one day be Anders’s own. As it was, Anders had spent most of his childhood with his mother in Devon and had not been educated in the finer points of the British peerage. He had gone, of course, to Eton and then to Cambridge, but the fine education he had received from those vaunted institutions had done little to prepare him for the wealth and privilege that had instantly been bestowed upon him when Uncle Frederick had died. He had been intimidated at first—in truth, he was still intimidated—by the mighty House of Lords, in which his uncle had made it clear he was expected to take up his seat. But Uncle Frederick