Page 22 of The Secret Identity of the Lord's Aide
But the next day, everything felt deflated, weak, when he received the morning paper from The Rising Sun. Richard slipped it onto his desk, his face looking like a soggy piece of wrapping. Lord Linfield frowned, tilting his head.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked.
Richard tapped his finger on the paper, making it rustle. “I didn’t want to bring this to you. But I believe you need to know.” He paused for a moment, seeming incredulous about Nathaniel’s scrunched frown. “It’s our L.B. It seems she’s back at it again.”
“What are you talking about?” Lord Linfield demanded, anxiety making his heart patter wildly. “Lady Elizabeth, our L.B.? She’s my speechwriter, now. How on earth could she …”
He shuffled to the Political Opinion section, poring over the page with wide eyes. He read it, and then he reread it, before crumpling the paper up into a tight ball and seething.
“I had high hopes when I attended Lord Linfield’s speech yesterday afternoon,” the article began. “I believe he is of high moral compass, that his opinions are sound and his heart is true. However, I must affirm to you all, that upon that stage, he’s nothing but a blubbering fool. He began the speech fumbling with the pages of his speech, appearing to lose his place before storming off the stage. When the crowd began to jeer him, he returned—more enraged than ever before. This rage burned through him, making him spit out random feelings and thoughts to the crowd. While it did seem that many of these thoughts were well-formulated, he seemed to jump from one thought to another—one page to another—without any sort of real conclusion. I found myself aghast, watching the crowd fall in love with him. For, in my mind, he seemed an illiterate fool. As I said, I don’t believe him to be this. Truly. He seems strong of mind. Strong of heart. But does he have it in him to work for Parliament, where he’ll be asked to speak quite frequently, present his opinions in a way that will make his countrymen trust him wholly and completely? I think, well, rather not. In fact, at the next speech—provided they allow him behind a podium again—I, myself, will give him an award if he can make it through the speech without flubbing it. Name your prize, Lord Nathaniel Linfield. I am a man of my word.”
“What on earth is she playing at?” Nathaniel scoffed. “And what is she on about, calling herself a man? What idiocy. What a horrific woman.”
“It seems she hasn’t given up her pen name. Her career,” Richard said, shuffling his feet. “It seems she—”
But Nathaniel cut him off, standing quickly and pacing back and forth. “She can’t think she will get away with this. I already sent the first cheque to her. She’s already cashed it. I know for a fact that she’s profiting from this arrangement, perhaps far more than I.”
“Now, you said it yourself. It was a remarkable speech,” Richard said, almost as if he was coaxing him.
“No. This is absolutely ridiculous. The crowd was practically eating out of my hand at the end of the speech. They loved me, Richard. And now, what will they remember? They’ll remember what little miss L.B. wrote in her stupid essay,” Nathaniel said, scoffing.
Silence hung heavy in the room. Nathaniel’s eyes burned towards the door. His feet itched. He imagined Lady Elizabeth at her desk at The Rising Sun, perfectly pleased with herself and her perfect little words. He couldn’t let her get away with this.
“Richard, I’ll be going to town,” he said. He shot towards the door, his strides long and firm.
“Sir, I don’t want you to do anything that might ruin your reputation,” Richard said, following up behind him.
“Richard, you know as well as I do that I have to put her in her place. If I’m going to be paying her. Perhaps she—perhaps she wrote this horrific speech just to put me in my place. Suppose she starts writing worse and worse speeches, only so she can write these essays about me? I can’t handle it, Richard. I must put a stop to it.”
Within twenty minutes, Lord Linfield and Richard were aboard the carriage, tilting back and forth as the horses’ hooves scuttled across the cobblestones. It was a strangely sunny day, and the sun was foreign, too bright over Lord Linfield’s eyes. He blinked several times, leaning forward upon his fist.
The carriage dropped Lord Linfield and Richard a few blocks away from The Rising Sun. Lord Linfield told the carriage boy to remain there, poised to rush away after he gave Lady Elizabeth a piece of his mind. He’d planned to spend the afternoon in the woods with Barney, a bit of a prize to himself for his “grand achievement” the previous afternoon. Now, he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved it.
Lord Linfield marched towards the front door of The Rising Sun. At the outside, through the glass, he watched Lady Elizabeth swirling her quill across the paper before her. To her right, the other writers worked with tired, sloth-like hands at their desks. And, in the separate office, Irene was arched over a selection of pages, slashing through several words and seemingly mumbling to herself.
Just as Lord Linfield reached for the handle of the door, preparing to storm in, Lady Elizabeth spotted him. Her face turned to a frown. Immediately, she shot to her feet and bounded towards the door, shaking her head.
Behind him, Richard muttered to himself, voicing both of their confusions. Lord Linfield bumbled back, moving towards the side of the building as Lady Elizabeth moved into the sun. With her nostrils flared, she closed the door tightly behind her, checking back at the other employees.
“Good. Nobody saw you,” she said, setting her jaw. She crossed her arms over her chest and bowed her head towards the next alleyway behind a selection of carriages. “If you’ve come to speak with me, we must do it out of sight.”
Lady Elizabeth’s anger only made Lord Linfield’s exponentially more powerful. He glared at her, setting his feet wide beneath him. “How dare you boss me around? I am your employer, Lady Elizabeth.” He said the words with disdain.
But Lady Elizabeth marched past him, shaking her head and muttering to herself. She strode towards the alleyway, behind the carriages, and then spun around to meet him. Both Lord Linfield and Richard hadn’t a choice but to follow her. Richard took several steps away from them, giving them a bit of privacy. But he remained in the wings as Lord Linfield’s support.
Lord Linfield pressed the newspaper against the brick wall to the left of Lady Elizabeth’s head, making it smack. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Lady Elizabeth arched her brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Who am I speaking with right now?” Lord Linfield asked. “Are you L.B. right now? Or the perfectly lovely, intelligent woman I hired to write my speeches? Because I want to be speaking to the latter, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I do apologise, Lord Linfield, but I seem to remember telling you that by day I work strictly as the secretary of The Rising Sun. Nothing more. Didn’t you agree to upholding that title for me?” Lady Elizabeth said.
Lord Linfield allowed an exacerbated sigh to escape his lips. He turned around, ensuring that nobody was listening. The only person anywhere close to them was a teenage boy, sitting atop the carriage, chewing at something. His eyes were glazed.
“Lady Elizabeth, if you would please open your mind to conversing with me without bounds,” Lord Linfield said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not in the interest in mucking up the conditions of our contract.”
“Then why on earth did you choose to charge your way into my place of business and make a fool of me? What did you think my colleagues would think, with you standing over my desk and demanding answers? You know it’s incredibly important for me to keep my name hidden,” Lady Elizabeth murmured, her eyes glistening with anger.
