"I know that somehow, every step I took since the moment I could walk was a step towards finding you." Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle
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III.
Lily was taken to Brunswick Street, just as her uncle had arranged. Just as soon as the carriage had disappeared around the corner, Lily proceeded to make the journey that she had only ever before done in her imagination as she had studied a map of London.
While she prayed that she appeared calm and demure to the everyday Londoners she passed, she was certain that her rapid heartbeat could be heard by all. As she walked, Lily was certain that one of the men or women that she passed would suddenly tap her on the shoulder and tell her that she ought to go home to her father's house.
Or worse, Lily feared that she would bump into her father. She inspected every face that she walked past, and not at all inconspicuously. Lily received several odd glances as she checked the passing gentlemen for her father's features.
But as she approached the office of Callan McCarthy, Lily saw no such man. No matter how many strange glances she received, nobody stopped to tell her that she did not belong there.
There was no mistaking her new employer's office. The same seal that had been on the letter he had sent her was stamped onto the glass of his front door. Lily's hand shook as she raised her hand to knock, knowing that the minute she did, there was no turning back.
If she left now, Lily Bennett would simply be a memory for her, and a mystery for Mr McCarthy. She could actually find a harp tutor and learn the instrument for a few months. But Lily shook her head and swallowed her nerves.
Something deep down inside of her was telling her that she would always regret not taking this chance.
Lily tapped her knuckles against the glass pane of the door, and it rattled against her hand. The sound nearly made her jump as she quickly pulled her hand down to her side as she waited for the door to be answered.
At least two minutes passed without the door being answered, and so, Lily knocked again, a little more forcefully this time.
A sudden sound came from above her as she heard a window being raised open. A voice then shouted out into the street from inside. "Are you a bit thick, Fionn? Or have you forgotten how to use a bleedin' doorhandle?"
Lily's eyes widened as she heard the mocking tone from the man above her. He also spoke with a thick accent, and she could only assume that it meant the man was Irish. She had assumed by his name that Mr McCarthy hailed from Ireland, but it was another thing entirely to hear his voice. If that even was his voice.
Either way, Lily realised she was being called thick, and before she had even met her new employer. She recalled explicitly Mr McCarthy's intolerance for idiots and Lily anxiously opened the door before she even realised what she was doing.
Once inside, Lily quickly took in her surroundings. She immediately found herself in a front office space, one that reminded her much of her father's study at Ashwood, except it was far more disorganised. There was a desk that was littered with stacks of papers and documents, as well as plenty of empty teacups and dishes covered in crumbs.
There was a small dining table near a hearth that was littered in much the same way. A wall divided the room in two, though it was half glass, giving her a clear look as to what was beyond it. Another office sat behind the glass, and this one was just as untidy. Bookshelves were overflowing, and large maps hung on the wall.
Lily did not know where to look as a certain level of shock overcame her.
"Bring the scones upstairs, would you, Fionn? I'm starving!" called the man Lily presumed to be Mr McCarthy.
The air left Lily's lungs, which took away any ability that she had to speak out to announce her presence. This was an extraordinary beginning, and Lily knew that she could only make an incredible fool of herself.
She suddenly noticed a narrow staircase a few feet from the front door, and it was a wonder that she had not seen it before. Lily immediately knew that she could not go up those stairs. Not in the first five minutes of working for this man.
Lily could only think of what her father would say, and she hated to have him on her conscience.
No sooner had she made that decision; Lily heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.
"Are your legs broken or something, Fionn?" No sooner had he asked the question, a man suddenly appeared as he paused halfway down the staircase. He gripped the balustrade as he uttered, "You're not Fionn."
Lily had clearly arrived as this poor man was readying himself for the day. She anxiously wished that she had carried a timepiece with her to make certain it was not earlier than she was expected. But she was certain that she had left her uncle's house at the right time. If anything, she was a few minutes late.
The Lily presumed to be Mr McCarthy was dressed in a white shirt that he had not yet buttoned to his collar, and a pair of dark breeches that were held up by a set of braces. She noticed that his feet were bare, and he was yet to don his boots.
Lily dared to look upon the man's face, and she saw his expression of embarrassment immediately. His jaw was half shaved, and half still covered in soap, and his russet brown hair looked damp. His eyes were green and tense, and his lips were pressed together in a firm line as he tried to compose himself.
Lily did not think that she had imagined what Mr McCarthy would look like, but he certainly presented himself in the most unique way that she had ever encountered a man.
"Not a dollop of jam to be found this morning. Can you believe it?"
Both Lily and Mr McCarthy were startled by the sudden intrusion of a third person into their small, awkward party. Lily could instantly recognise the accent in his voice as he spoke, and he closed the door behind him.
She could immediately see that this man was younger, perhaps several years younger, than that of Mr McCarthy. Lily wondered if he was nearer to her age, which put her prediction of Mr McCarthy's age in perhaps his late twenties.
The young man stopped as he noticed Lily standing there. Lily was still yet to find a single word to explain herself or her presence there. He was not as awkward, and he quickly ran his hand back through his curly, dark red hair, and flashed her a smile.
"What an enchanting surprise this is. I'm Fionn Maguire," he greeted in a charming tone, his aquamarine eyes nearly sparkling at her. He was standing several feet from Lily, but she could tell that this Mr Maguire was a good foot taller than her. "May I have the honour of knowing your name, Miss?"
In another life, a man would not have been able to ask Lily her name without an introduction by a mutual acquaintance, and the permission of her father. He would have bowed his head and called her 'milady'.
But this was not her life, and Lily forced herself to quickly acclimate to her new reality.
Lily suddenly fumbled her hand into one of her pockets, suddenly wondering if she had the wrong day. They did not seem to be expecting her, or perhaps the offer had been rescinded and the letter had been lost somewhere between London and Hertfordshire.
Lily fished the letter out of her pocket and held it out to Mr Maguire timidly. "I ... I think ... I believe you are expecting me, sir."
"Miss Bennett?" Mr McCarthy suddenly gasped, before Mr Maguire remarked, "Is it Monday already?"
Mr McCarthy immediately retreated up the stairs in a hurry, as Mr Maguire placed down a bag of something that smelled rather delicious on top of a stack of papers on the nearby desk. The whole lot teetered, but Mr Maguire did not seem to care.
"I don't think Callan's slept for three days. I have probably had a few hours collectively over the last weekend. It is easy to lose track when ... well, when your office looks like this and you're as busy as we are." Mr Maguire had had a newspaper under his arm, and after he finished his sentence, he placed it on top of the bag.
"Am I intruding?" Lily wondered nervously as she received first confirmation that the half dressed man she had encountered was indeed her new employer, Callan McCarthy.
Mr Maguire chuckled. "No. You are entirely necessary. Callan drove the last one of you out. And look what happens to the place when he behaves like an eejit."
"I was not behaving like an eejit," snapped Mr McCarthy, who had suddenly reappeared, and fully dressed this time. He had donned a coat and boots, and his face was wiped clean from soap, though he still looked a little uncomfortable after their initial exchange.
Mr McCarthy came to stand beside Mr Maguire. Considering Lily's assessment that Mr Maguire was a foot taller than her, Mr McCarthy had about three inches on his countryman. Alongside her hair and eyes, Lily and her sisters had all been blessed with their mother's short stature. Though she was slightly taller than Perrie, Lily's height was entirely unremarkable.
"Forgive me, Miss Bennett. That was a rather unfortunate way for you to begin your time here. I had not realised it was Monday already. It's been a long week." Now that he was standing closer to her, Lily could see that there were indeed dark shadows underneath Mr McCarthy's green eyes. He looked very tired.
Lily had heard her pseudonym uttered twice now by the man, and she felt the reality of her situation sink in. This was it. This was what she had wanted, and she needed to perform. Her taste of the real world began right then and there.
"Please, do not apologise, Mr McCarthy," Lily said politely. "I only hope to be of assistance."
"Would you listen to that posh voice? I'd bet she could recite the Bible and make it sound like music. Maybe then I might've been more inclined to attend Mass on a Sunday without my mammy dragging me by the ear." Mr Maguire laughed to himself as Mr McCarthy shot him a glare of disapproval.
But Lily could not help but smile. She had never received a compliment on her voice before, and she rather enjoyed the colourful way that Mr Maguire put it.
"Please forgive my cousin's awful manners, Miss Bennett. He was dropped frequently as bab and his own mother is ashamed of him," Mr McCarthy snipped impatiently, to which Mr Maguire could only laugh.
Mr Maguire then threw the newspaper that he had brought in at Mr McCarthy, before he opened the bag that he had left on the desk. He fished out a fresh scone and took a large bite.
Cousins, they were, and Lily felt a small amount of comfort in the clear affection that there was between the two of them. It reminded her much of the interactions that she had witnessed between her father and her uncle, or even perhaps herself and her siblings.
But her comfort did not last long.
"How old are you?" Mr McCarthy suddenly asked as he inspected Lily more thoroughly. His brows furrowed down into a deep frown. Just as Lily had managed to get a closer look at the man's face, so now could he.
Lily had not invented an extensive career for herself. She had merely painted herself as an exemplary worker in her self-written reference. She could not pass as a seasoned secretary with a face as youthful as hers.
Should she lie? Lily immediately dismissed the idea. She had created enough falsehoods as it was. "I will be eighteen in March," she replied nervously.
Mr McCarthy seemed to have thoughts, several of them, as Lily revealed her age. But he did not speak them. Instead, his eyes flicked around their surroundings, and Lily could infer his feelings.
She was young, but he was in desperate need. He had said as much in his letter.
"Don't drive this one away, will you, Callan?" Mr Maguire teased as he took another bite of the plain scone. "This is absolutely shite without jam, by the way. Don't bother. I'll take the lot off of your hands."
"Watch your cursing in front of a woman, would you? You daft eejit," Mr McCarthy snapped.
"I'll tell you who's the eejit," Mr Maguire shot back. "Have you seen the front page today?" He pointed to the newspaper he had thrown at his cousin. "Front page news, apparently, is the Duke of Foxworth's purchase of a castle in Scotland. Plans to turn it into a summer home for the craic. The next will be a spring home in Wales. And an autumn home in –"
"Absolute pack of eejits, the lot of 'em," Mr McCarthy interjected icily. He seemed to forget Lily was there for a moment as he inspected the story his cousin had pointed him towards. "If work was a bed, those lazy bollocks' would sleep on the floor."
Lily was quick to understand that the 'pack of eejits' both Mr McCarthy and Mr Maguire were referring to were ... aristocrats. Lily could feel her cheeks betraying her as they flushed with colour.
Mr McCarthy took a deep, disapproving breath, as he folded the newspaper in half and discarded it back on the table. It landed atop the unstable stack of papers, which promptly teetered over and scattered across the floor with reckless abandon.
"I've no patience for eejits, Miss Bennett. I only have to tolerate this one because he's blood. But as you can see, I've not the touch for order, and I rather need it. Do you think you can handle this?"
Not a moment ago, Lily had heard this man's clear contempt for her very kind. Lily supposed that her sheltered life at Ashwood had shielded her from many such opinions. How common was it for people to resent those of her rank? Hearing the news of the Duke of Foxworth's purchase in terms of excess was something that she would have never considered before. But she had been brought up to have compassion for all. Her father had sent her and her siblings to their village school so that they would have compassion and understanding for people of all ranks.
Lily would need to draw on it immediately. This was an experience that she had been desperate for, and she would not allow her nerves to spoil it for her.
"Yes, sir," she confirmed, nodding her head.
----
We've met our hero ... and fam ... his voice ... I wish you could hear what it sounds like in my head. *swoons*
Me thinks Lily's going to learn a few lessons the hard way, and maybe Callan will too ;) I can't wait to get into the meat of this story and dive into all the back story and drama, you know me. Wouldn't be a me story if there wasn't a touch of .... what's the word I'm thinking of? It's on the tip of my tongue um um um
OH!!
TORTUREEEEEEEEEE yayyyyyyy!!!
Hahahaha anyway, tomorrow is Father's Day in my part of the world, so happy father's day to all your dads, and your mums who are dads, and anyone in between. And love to all of you for whom tomorrow is a tough day. I can empathise with you greatly xx
Vote and comment xxxx