Page 1 of Courting Claudia

Chapter 1

London, 1848

Claudia inhaled three deep breaths, hoping to calm her addled insides, but her stomach still churned. If this was the right decision, why did she not feel relaxed and assured? Whether her body believed this to be the right decision was of no consequence. No lady of good breeding and any shred of propriety would continue to hold a paying position, especially with a marriage proposal on the horizon.

Which was why she currently sat in a carriage just outside the office of London’s Illustrated Times, resignation letter in hand. Of course, learning that her father despised Derrick Middleton and all his paper stood for had aided her decision to resign. Her father would view her employment with the paper as a betrayal. Emerson Prattley expected his daughter to be loyal at any cost, and she was nothing if not loyal. So with feigned confidence, she opened the carriage door.

Derrick Middleton stared at his office door, muttering to himself. One more interruption today and he might fire everyone. Of course, that would only serve to prove to the Conservatives that he was the bastard they thought him to be. Which was not true, at least concerning his employees. His workers regarded him highly—they enjoyed their positions here, they smiled, they came to work every day.

But today had been a bloody mess. All day, one thing after another. One of his journalists broke his leg, and his assignments had to be handed off to another. His wood carvers sat idle, waiting for the delayed shipment of boxwood to arrive before they began next week’s woodcuts. They could substitute another wood, but boxwood worked best for the illustrations.

And now last month’s books were not reconciling perfectly. The paper still had money—plenty of it—but Derrick wanted his books perfect, down to the last shilling.

He would have to rewrite all the entries and do the calculations himself. Pressure nagged at his temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the strain—to no avail.

He poked the quill back into the well, then went to stand at the window. The street below him bustled with activity. People milled about and went in and out of the shops. A well-dressed lady with an enormous hat decorated with at least a dozen flowers exited a carriage, stopped to smooth her skirts, then looked up as if she knew he stood in the window above her. He took a step back.

The pain in his head drummed against his scalp. Perhaps he should tell Mason he was taking the rest of the afternoon off. He could go home and…and what? Worry about the goings on from home. No, he needed to get back to the books and figure out the problem. Perhaps his day would get better. No sooner had he taken a seat than Mason opened the door.

“Mr. Middleton, there is a lady here to see you.”

The lady from the carriage. “Who is she, and what does she want?”

“She didn’t say. Although she did say it was most important she meet with you.”

“She didn’t say? I believe it is your job as my assistant to ask such questions.”

Mason just stood there.

He wasn’t a very good assistant, but he was literate and came to work every day. Most days he spoke politely to visitors. And Derrick trusted him—that was the main reason he hadn’t fired Mason. Trustworthy employees were hard to come by.

“Very well, send her in.” He continued to stand behind his desk until she breached the doorway in a flurry of pale blue ruffles and bows. It was indeed the lady from the carriage, and her hat was even larger this close up. Perplexing how a woman of her stature could hold it up, as she couldn’t have been much over five feet tall.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Middleton. I apologize for not making an appointment ahead of time, but I didn’t think you would see me if you knew who I was.”

“I see. Why did you think I wouldn’t see you?”

“Because I am a woman.”

He let his eyes roam the short length of her. “Yes, I can see that.”

She stared at him as if that was the complete answer—she was a woman—as if that explained everything.

He shook his head. “Exactly who are you?”

“I’m so daft sometimes.” She came forward, hand extended. “Claudia Prattley. A pleasure to finally meet you.”

He took her hand—a warm, plush hand—and squeezed it gently before he remembered his manners and brought it to his lips. “Prattley. That sounds familiar. Please sit.” He motioned to the leather chairs opposite his desk, then took a seat himself.

She gave him a tentative smile, then busied herself retrieving something from her reticule. With her head slightly bent he got full view of her hat. Was that a dove? He suppressed a smile. The hat was ridiculously large, and so full of flowers, not to mention the artificial bird, that it distracted one from noticing much else about her. Finally, she pulled out an envelope, which she looked at for a moment, then leaned forward to hand to him.

“For me?”

“Yes.” She sat straighter in her chair and tilted her chin ever so slightly, giving him a better view of her eyes. The muted blue of her dress would have matched them perfectly had it been a few shades brighter.

He brought his attention back to the envelope. The wax seal cracked as he pried up the flap of the envelope.

“‘Dear Mr. Middleton.’” He looked up and she nodded, her eyes wide, as if eager for news in the letter. “‘I am troubled that I must do this, but the time has come for me to resign.’ Who is this from?”