Page 80 of The Virtues of Christmas
Chapter Eight
“We’ve sold out?” Dougal asked.
“The professor and Mrs. Horner have both sold out,” Detwiler said, settling into the chair across from Dougal’s desk. “The printer is doing an extra run as we speak, and the name of Dougal P. MacHugh is on the lips of every publisher in London. They’re all saying you’re brilliant, and next Christmas, they will conduct an epistolary courtship by broadsheet.”
“Let them,” Dougal said, taking off his glasses. “This time next year, I might well be teaching school again in Upper Achtermachtaltiebuie.”
“Is there an Upper Achtermachtaltiebuie?”
“Go home, Detwiler. I’ll see you Monday, no earlier than noon.”
Detwiler pushed to his feet. “I’m sorry, lad. You tried your best. Hell hath no fury like a spinster—”
Dougal rose and leaned over the desk. “Patience Friendly isnota spinster.”
Detwiler braced his hands on the desk. “Spinster, the proper legal definition for a woman as yet unmarried.Old maid.A woman past the usual marriageable age, rarely applied to men in the same situation but sometimes used to designate the occupation of one who spins.”
Dougal leaned nearer. “Patience Friendly is awriter, abrilliantliterary talent with ageniusfor the publishing business. She is anexcellenteditor and a woman ofunshakableintegrity, whom I amproudto have associated with this establishment. She is alsomy fiancéeuntil she tells me otherwise.”
“You needn’t shout,” said a familiar female voice. “Though your sentiments do you credit.”
Patience stood in the doorway, but not a version of Patience whom Dougal had seen before. Even holding George in her arms, this woman outshone the Windham sisters for self-possession, and though her ensemble was several years out of date, the quality and style were unmistakable.
“Detwiler,” Dougal said. “Happy Christmas.”
“Oh, right. Happy Christmas to all.” Detwiler took his time shuffling out the door, and when he paused to pet the cat, Dougal nearly howled.
Patience kissed the old buzzard’s cheek, sashayed into the office, and deposited George on the mantel.
“Mr. MacHugh, we have business to discuss.”
Dougal did not want to discuss business, but if Patience had asked him to reciteTam O’Shanterbackward, he would have given it a go. He was so damned relieved to see her on her mettle, ready to give as good as she got, while he was damned if he had the first inkling—
Inspiration struck. “I have crumpets.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Speaking as a brilliant literary talent, I’m not interested in yourcrumpets,sir. Shall we be seated?”
Dougal came around the desk and gestured to the table, then held Patience’s chair for her. He’d missed the scent of her, the rustle of her skirts, the energy she brought to the office—and that was before she’d metamorphosed from Mrs. Horner into this, this force of nature.
“You smell like lemons and spices,” he said, taking his own seat.
“This is a business discussion, Mr. MacHugh. Has the professor sold out?”
“Aye. In record time. Mrs. Horner right behind him.”
“Mrs. Horner has a reply for him.” She passed over a sheet of foolscap. “She’ll beat his record.”
My dear Professor Pennypacker,
While I appreciate the gracious sentiments contained in your epistle, I must take issue with two of your assumptions, for they will otherwise trouble my holiday exceedingly.
Firstly, you assume that I cannot appreciate a point of view differing from my own, which foolishness I attribute to an excess of delicate gentlemanly sensibilities. A woman who holds the public’s trust takes upon herself a great responsibility. Knowing that you will step forth with well-considered criticism from time to time eases the burden of that responsibility for me.
Nobody is right all the time. Nobody goes through life without an occasional error. What a dull world we’d have if we permitted each other no room for foibles, thoughtful discourse, or respectful dissension.
Secondly, you assume that our readers cannot enjoy offerings from more than one writer, as if their appetite for succinct wisdom was limited, rather than expanded, by our mutual efforts. The good citizens who enjoy my column should be encouraged to find others they like as well. When do we ever have too much wisdom, too many insights?
So I must thank you, Professor, for your contribution to an enjoyable and enlightening exchange. My holiday wish is that we shall have many more differences of opinion and that you shall offer the benefit of your thinking whether it agrees with my own or respectfully conflicts with it.
