That Would Be a Fairy Tale by Amanda Grange Page B

Peterson, glancing at the clock, ‘you will be able to meet him.’
    ‘Meet him?’ gasped Cicely in sudden horror. Meet Mr Evington in Mr Peterson’s office, and have him discover she was looking for work? No! Not at any cost.
    ‘Yes,’ said Mr Peterson, fortunately not noticing the horror in her voice. ‘He is coming in at eleven o’clock to see if the post has been filled.’
    ‘Oh, no, that will never do,’ said Cicely, springing out of her chair. ‘I mean,’ she continued hastily as she saw Mr Peterson’s look of surprise, ‘I mean . . . ’ She cast around for a likely excuse, ‘I mean that unfortunately I cannot wait. I hadn’t realized how late it is. I’m afraid I have to —’
    At that moment there was a knock at the door. Cicely started. But to her relief it was only Miss Dennis who entered the room.
    The relief was short-lived, however, as Miss Dennis declared, ‘Mr Evington to see you, Mr Peterson.’
    Cicely felt a hot blush spread over her face. It was too awful! To be confronted by Mr Evington, here, of all places!
    ‘Ah! Good,’ said Mr Peterson, rising.
    Cicely put her head down in the hope that he would not recognise her, and made to slip past Miss Dennis, murmuring that she had another appointment, but it was too late. She could not slip out of the door, because Alex Evington was walking in!
    ‘Mr Evington! What a pleasure to see you,’ beamed Mr Peterson, who was far more fond of employers than prospective employees.
    ‘I’m a little early,’ began Mr Evington, ‘but -’
    ‘And a good thing too,’ Mr Peterson interrupted him, wreathed in smiles. ‘There is a young woman here, looking for a job as a secretary. She is a little reluctant to take a job at the Manor, but I am sure you can persuade her it will be just the thing. Mr Evington, may I present Miss Buckworth?’
    Cicely felt her cheeks flame. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Mr Evington should discover her seeking employment, he had to find her using an assumed name as well!
    She tried to raise her eyes, telling herself not to be such a coward, but they remained firmly fixed on the floor.
    ‘Miss Buck-’ Mr Evington stopped mid-sentence, as he turned towards her and realized who she was. ‘-worth,’ he finished, in a completely different tone of voice.
    ‘Come, come, Miss Buckworth, no need to be shy. Mr Evington will not eat you, you know,’ said Mr Peterson jovially, completely misunderstanding the reason for Cicely’s blushes.
    With a supreme effort Cicely raised her head.
    ‘I dare say Miss Buckworth feels the Manor will be isolated, being so far out in the country. As I believe I explained to you when you asked us to find you someone, Mr Evington, most young people prefer to be closer to town, where there is a bit more life. But I’m sure you will be able to convince her otherwise,’ declared Mr Peterson.
    ‘No, no, I do assure you, Mr Evington cannot,’ said Cicely, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. Realising that it was unlikely to do anything so obliging, however, she made to hurry away.
    Except Mr Evington was blocking the doorway.
    Cicely swallowed, hoping fervently that he would move.
    Mr Evington turned to Mr Peterson. ‘If we could have a moment alone,’ he said  smoothly.
    ‘But of course,’ said Mr Peterson with an ingratiating smile.
    A moment later he had left them, and Cicely was face to face with Alex Evington, and again in the most mortifying circumstances. She seemed to be cursed!
    ‘Mr Peterson is mistaken, I assure you,’ said Cicely, trying her best to hide her agitation. ‘I have no need to supplement my income and I am not in the least desirous of becoming a secretary.’
    The words were clumsy and out of her mouth before she had given any thought to them, and she was convinced he could not fail to see through them. Indeed, he seemed to realize she was lying, because something in his face changed. His eyes, which had been astonished, now hardened . . . but