Jenny knew she had to make time to go to Miss Hartford's dress shop, but she was nervous and didn't want to go alone. She begged Abigail to go with her, but Abigail refused. Finally, Jenny set off alone dressed in her best, starched white blouse and wool skirt.
She stood outside the shop for several minutes, trying to get up the courage to open the door. At long last, she stepped inside. The shop was a beehive of activity. Wealthy women, dressed in their finest were shopping for dresses, hats and accessories and the sales women were doing their best to placate their every need. Never before had she experienced a shop like this. The scene unfolding before her, mesmerized Jenny. She stood for several minutes before one of the shop assistants finally acknowledged her. “You are Mrs. Vandervelt's new maid, aren't you? She is in the dressing room.” Jenny was shocked at the woman's error in mistaking her for one of the maids. Embarrassed, she rushed from the shop. Fighting back the tears she rushed down the street. I don’t fit in. I am just a working girl from Watsworth. How will I ever be able to buy a dress from that shop? I don’t belong amongst the wealthy, even if the Lord Provost is paying for the gown. I will make a fool of myself at the Gala. Perhaps I am just fooling myself. I am not good enough for Harry. By the time Jenny arrived back at Abigail's she was in a terrible state. She rushed past Abigail and ran up to her room. Abigail called after her, but received no answer. Slowly she climbed the stairs to Jenny's room, where she found the young woman sobbing pitifully.
“Jenny, what is the matter?” Abigail sat on the bed beside Jenny.
“I don't belong here. I should just go back to Watsworth and stop pretending I am someone that I am not.”
“Tell me what happened. It was that snobbish dress shop wasn't it? That is why I wouldn't go with you. The women who shop there think they are better than the rest of us. Did one of them insult you?” Jenny stopped sobbing and rolled over to face Abigail.
“The shop assistant thought I was one of the maids!” Abigail just shook her head.
“Dear me, you poor girl. We will think of something.”
“No, we won't. I am not going to the Gala, and I am going to tell Harry that our engagement is off. I don't belong here.”
“Now, now. Don't start calling off your entire life because some upstart of a sales clerk mistook you for a maid. Take some deep breaths while I think.” Abigail rubbed Jenny's arm as she thought about what to do. “I know! The best solution is to ask Amy to go with you. Amy's family is very well respected in this town; her father is one of the wealthiest lawyers in Edinburgh. Amy will go with you and straighten this out.” At the mention of Amy, Jenny started to feel better. Why had she not asked Amy to go with her in the first place?
The next day, Amy and Jenny returned to the shop. Amy chatted all the way down the street, but Jenny was very quiet. Her nerves were getting the best of her. When they arrived, Jenny was hesitant to go in. “Come on, just follow my lead. I am going to take care of this.” Head down, Jenny followed her into the shop. This time, recognizing Amy, the same shop assistant rushed to be of service.
“Miss Mitchell, how lovely to see you. How can we be of assistance?”
“I am here to introduce my cousin Harold's fiancée, Miss Barstow. I have assured her that you will take very good care of her. We need a dress for the Gala.” This time the clerk fussed over Jenny. Jenny was sure she did not remember her from the day before.
“Miss Barstow, please come this way. It is my pleasure to serve you.” Jenny looked over the short clerk's head at Amy, who was laughing to herself. Jenny smiled and let the woman whisk her away to look at dresses. Amy chatted to some of the other ladies in the shop. She was sure to point Jenny out to them, introducing her as Harold's fiancée. Amy was annoyed at what had happened to Jenny in the shop the previous day. She was going to make sure these women gave Jenny the respect she deserved. Amy, who was becoming very fond of Jenny, had a protective streak a mile long.
The dresses were the most beautiful creations Jenny had ever seen. She was flabbergasted. How could she choose? Amy sat on the comfortable chair sipping a glass of champagne. They certainly know how to treat the ladies, thought Jenny. “You must be enjoying that champagne. It is the quietest you have been since I met you,” she teased. Amy just laughed.
Amy looked toward the sales girl. “By the way, the Lord Provost John Murphy is paying for this dress.” The sales girl's head swiveled around toward Amy.
“The Lord Provost?” She looked at Jenny with new respect. “Well then, we must look over on this rack.” Amy winked at Jenny. The sales girl quickly ushered Jenny to the other side of the room where the more expensive dresses were hung. The dresses of the elite were lace covered and very feminine. Some were two- piece with low cut bodices; many were covered in tiny jewels. Soon more dresses appeared from the back room. The clerk was measuring her, holding pieces of fabric up to her chin to test colors, and finally directing her to the very elegant change rooms. Jenny felt that the entire experience was surreal. Could this really be me? Jenny Barstow from Watsworth?
She tried on several gowns, always looking to Amy for approval. Jenny stared at herself in the mirror. She could barely recognize herself. Dress after dress, on and off again, it was as if she were in a trance. Amy didn't like the first two, had the third put aside, ordered three more to be brought and the entire afternoon disappeared like magic. Ultimately, Jenny chose a royal blue gown that Amy said was definitely ‘the one’. The dress had a low sweetheart square neckline. The skirt was gored and created an elongated trumpet bell shape, with width at the hemline. It was the most beautiful gown Jenny had ever seen.
“Perhaps it is too expensive.” Jenny whispered to Amy.
“Nothing is too expensive for the Lord Provost. He wants you to go with his nephew and he is going to pay.” Amy just laughed. The two women left the shop laughing.
Exhausted, the two arrived at the French Café where they were meeting their beaus for dinner. Amy mentioned that Harry seemed to be very busy these days at the hospital. Jenny agreed, “I haven't seen much of Harry lately. Something to do with a large grant is all I know.” They waited in the reception area for the men.
“At least Gordon has a normal job at the law office. Research suits him perfectly.”
“Did he not want to be a lawyer? He seems very clever.”
“No, Gordon likes to work alone and in peace and quiet. Research is his passion. As a researcher he can work for law offices, corporations, even doctors or hospitals. This makes him much more desirable in the industry.” Amy gushed when she spoke of Gordon. Jenny could see he was very important to her friend.
“At least we all love what we do.” Jenny looked toward the door for Harry.
“You know it really bothers me that you are doing all the work in that office and Ian Murphy is getting all the credit. Women really are treated badly in the workplace. I mean, look around, how many women do you see as head of their department?” Jenny was getting used to Amy's tirades on the rights of women.
“I am just happy to have a job and if I had gotten the job I was offered, I would have been the head of my department,” Jenny reminded Amy.
“True, but in the end you didn't get it. I am sure it was all down to the city wanting a man as head. Besides they would have paid you half of what a man's wages were for the same job. Oh look, here come our handsome fellows now.”
“How was the shopping expedition, ladies?” Harry took Jenny's cloak and held her chair for her. She smiled at him. “Better my pet?” She had told him of her first experience.
“Much better. Amy is amazing, but I still can't believe it is all real.” Harry leaned over and pecked her cheek. She was so innocent and he loved her with all of his heart. He knew that this was all new for Jenny and it had angered him when she told him about her first experience at the dress shop. Of course, he blamed the Murphys for the entire incident. He looked over and nodded his appreciation to Amy. Harry knew that Amy would take care of Jenny.
“Jenny was like a fairytale princess. Wait until you see her at the Gala. She will be fighting the men off like flies.” Amy sat beside Gordon. He was a very quiet young man, which suited the chatty Amy perfectly.
“Just as long as she fights them off. You are mine, dearest Jenny, and I am not about to lose you.” Harry kissed her hand. “I wish you were going to the Gala with me instead of that horrid Ian Murphy.”
“So do I, Harry. I would give anything not to have to go with Mr. Murphy, but you will be close by the entire night.”
“You better believe it, my dearest. I will be like your shadow, following your every move.” She squeezed his hand.
“That is the only reason I am going. I will feel much better knowing you are with me. Now enough of that, what are we having to eat? I am starving. Shopping is a very exhausting pastime.” They all laughed.
Time passed quickly for Jenny. The Gala was the next day. Jenny was so nervous she could barely eat. “Eat your lamb chops, Jenny. Here have more mint sauce.”
“They are delicious really, Miss Abigail. I just don't seem to have much of an appetite. All I can think of is tomorrow night.” Jenny pushed the food around on her plate. ‘What if I make a fool of myself? I don't know how to act at such functions. Why the only function I have ever been to is the weekly dance in Watsworth. They were more like a charivari. I don't even know how people dance at Galas!”
“Don't you worry about that. Zachariah will be here shortly and he has a plan.”
“It seems to me that Zachariah always has ‘a plan,” Jenny laughed.
After supper, Zachariah arrived with a large suitcase. Soon he disappeared to the kitchen, reappearing in full fancy dress. Jenny stared at him in surprise. “Zachariah, you look very handsome!”
“Tonight, I am your prince charming, my dear.” He bowed elegantly to Jenny. He offered his hand; she took it unsure of what he was doing. “Tonight, you will learn to be a princess. Now, there will be no more talk of exogamy. Mitchell is the lucky one to have a talented, beautiful fiancée like you Jenny. Shall we begin, Princess?”
Zachariah spent the next few hours tutoring Jenny in the ways of the elite. He showed her how to make an entrance, how to greet her hosts, how to stand demurely, and how to dance. Jenny was overwhelmed with appreciation. “Zachariah, you truly are my prince charming. I never could have done this without you.”
“Abigail will make you beautiful tomorrow night. She will put your hair up, and help you with your powder and your dress. This is my contribution to your evening. Jenny, we love you very much. I shall forever thank the Lord for bringing you into our lives.” He was close to tears, and it touched Jenny deeply. She hugged him, so filled with gratitude. When Abigail joined them, Jenny was happier than she had ever been. She felt so loved.
The next evening, all dressed and ready, she stared at her reflection. She could not believe it was Jenny Barstow staring back. Her hair was upswept, with tendrils falling at the sides and back. Abigail had put tiny pearls in her hair, and the effect was beautiful. The royal blue dress did accentuate her blue eyes, and it fit her like a glove. Her face was powdered and her cheeks blushed, Jenny truly was transformed. If only it was Harry coming to whisk me off to the ball. The thought of Ian Murphy taking her to the Gala made her feel ill and a terrible foreboding was forming in the pit of her stomach.
She did not wait long. At precisely eight o'clock, Mr. Ian Murphy dressed in his tuxedo arrived at number five Rose Street. Before knocking on the door, he slipped a silver flask from his pocket and took a long drink. This evening was going to be a total bore. He was not looking forward to being with his mousy assistant for hours, but Ian knew that he would have to appease his uncle. I will escape with one of the lovelies before the night is over. I am sure someone will take Miss Barstow home for me. With a heavy sigh, he knocked on the door.
“Mr. Murphy, please come in.” Zachariah moved aside so that Ian could enter. He noted the cocky, self-assured swagger of the younger man and he was not impressed.
“Jenny, Mr. Murphy is here for you.” The kitchen door opened and Jenny stepped into the foyer. Ian Murphy turned cockily toward her. He stopped short, staring at her.
“Miss Barstow, I must say that you look very different this evening.” He continued to stare which made Jenny very uncomfortable.
“Mr. Murphy.” She watched as Zachariah handed her cloak to Ian. Ian stood dumbfounded; he could not believe that this was his dull, plain assistant. The woman standing in front of him was stunning. Zachariah nudged him and he seemed to give his head a shake. Taking the cloak he placed it gently on Jenny's shoulders as he inhaled the deep scent of roses emanating from her neck. Jenny moved toward the door, Ian quickly rushed to open it for her. Zachariah watched the entire scenario with interest.
“Have a lovely evening, Jenny. Mr. Murphy, I would appreciate it if you had Miss Barstow home before midnight.” Zachariah was stressing the word “home.” Ian responded with a nod. Abigail and Zachariah watched as Ian opened the carriage door and assisted Jenny into the carriage. He quickly followed and the horseman moved the carriage down the street.
“He was shocked with our Jenny,” Abigail said to no one in particular
“He was more than shocked. I think he was enchanted. There might be trouble brewing.”
Ian ushered Jenny into the Gala. He helped her remove her cloak, glancing longingly at her cleavage. Her soft skin appeared pearl white against the royal blue material. Offering his arm he escorted her into the room. Jenny was in awe of the entire Gala. People milled everywhere. Ladies in beautiful gowns chatted. Gentlemen in their finest tuxedos were discussing business and exchanged stories along the west side of the room. Some couples danced to the soft music coming from the band on the stage in the corner. All eyes turned to the doorway when Ian and Jenny entered, Jenny heard someone say her name as they were introduced. Many eyes were upon her, but she searched the room for Harry. Ian stood proudly displaying his partner.
Jenny was demure and modest, smiling innocently and speaking politely when spoken to. He was delighted with her. Ian's grip tightened on her arm, moving her into the crowd. Several people whispered, nodding toward the couple as they moved through the room. Jenny could not see Harry anywhere.
“Ian, Miss Barstow, there you are.” Jenny turned her head to see Lord Provost John Murphy moving in their direction. “My, how lovely you look this evening, Miss Barstow.”
“Thank you, you are very kind.” Jenny was not used to flattery. She didn't know where to look.
“Ian, what do you think of Miss Barstow this evening?” John watched Ian carefully.
“Miss Barstow looks stunning. I was very surprised when I went to fetch her. Miss Barstow, if I have not said so, you look very beautiful this evening.” Ian lifted Jenny's hand and kissed it. Jenny looked away, sickened by his touch. John was very pleased. He left the young people for now.
“May I have this dance?” Ian bowed before her. Jenny stared at Ian.
“You don't have to dance with me. Remember, I am only here as your assistant. You may go and dance with one of your other women. I will just sit over here.” Jenny started to move towards the empty chairs at the side of the room, but Ian pulled her back.
“I would very much like to dance with you, Miss Barstow.” He bowed, gesturing toward the dance floor with his other hand. Jenny felt several eyes upon her. She took his hand and moved onto the floor, not wanting to make a scene. Ian quickly took possession of her and they glided around the room. When he took her into a graceful dip and sway about the room, it was evident that Ian was intrigued with her. She was happy to have been given the dance lessons. Zachariah's training was coming in very handy as the evening got underway. She was twirled around the room. Ian was a very good dancer. She made sure the distance between them was proper as her eyes searched. Where is Harry?
Finally, she spotted him. He had just arrived, accompanied by Amy and Gordon. Their eyes met across the room and he smiled widely. Within minutes, he was tapping Ian on the shoulder.
“May I cut in?” Ian was astounded by the man's gall. He ignored him at first, but soon realized that Mitchell was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Graciously, he handed Jenny's hand to Harry. Ian bowed and moved toward the bar.
“Where have you been? I was getting worried.” Jenny looked into Harry's eyes; he was staring at her in a strange way.
“ I was delayed at the hospital. This grant committee is taking all of my time.”
“What are you staring at?”
“I am staring at the most beautiful woman in this room. Jenny you look absolutely breathtaking.” She beamed with delight. “Now I am more worried than ever about Murphy.”
“Don't you worry about him. I am doing this because I want to keep my job. It is you that I am dancing with right now. Let's forget Mr. Murphy for now.” Harry laughed and twirled her about the room. Jenny was in heaven. She leaned into her fiancé and the room disappeared. For Jenny it was her and Harry alone in a loving embrace.
Several people watched, wondering whom this new woman was. Amy also watched, both Jenny and the others at the Gala. She was soon making her way through the crowd with Gordon in tow, letting everyone know that Jenny Barstow was Harold Mitchell's fiancée. If someone asked why she was here with Ian Murphy, Amy quickly explained that Jenny was Mr. Murphy's assistant at the city offices. “Strictly business.” She assured everyone. Some were not convinced. Especially when Ian made a point of recapturing the new belle of the ball, after one dance with Harold.
The evening progressed uneventfully. Jenny chatted with Amy, who introduced her to several young women at the Gala. Jenny was enjoying herself immensely. “I feel like Cinderella at the ball.” She told Amy.
At 11 o'clock, Harry approached Ian and Jenny and told Ian that he would be happy to take Miss Barstow home. “I am the one that brought her, and I shall take her home, old chap.” Ian was having none of it. Harry started to feel his anger growing.
“Need I remind you that Miss Barstow is my fiancée, Murphy?”
“No, but as I said, I brought her here, and I shall take her home. Good night, Mitchell.” Jenny didn't know what to do. She remained silent so as not to create a scene. John Murphy arrived and both young men turned to him. “I was just telling Mitchell that I shall escort Miss Barstow home, Uncle.” Ian was very careful to emphasize the word “Uncle” just to remind Harold whom he was dealing with.
“Wonderful Ian. Mitchell, I wanted to discuss with you, the large grant that the city is about to give the hospital. Come and sit with Dr. Jamieson and I.” He ushered Harry away against his will and Jenny could only watch him go.
“Miss Barstow, shall we go.” Ian offered his arm and Jenny went reluctantly. Harry watched them over his shoulder. He knew the Lord Provost was controlling the situation, but there was nothing he could do. Keep your hands off of her, Murphy. He stared daggers into Ian's back as the couple left the room.
In the carriage, Ian sat a little too close to Jenny. She felt claustrophobic. Edging away as much as she could, she adjusted her dress and leaned against the window. It seemed to take hours before Jenny and Ian arrived at number five Rose Street. Ian turned toward her, pulling her into his arms. Jenny resisted. He tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away. “Mr. Murphy, please. This is most unacceptable behavior.” He tried again more roughly this time. She could smell the liquor on his breath, and it brought back the terrifying memory of Mr. Brown. She trembled with fear. Panicking, she shoved him forcibly away from her. “I said no. Now please let me out of the carriage.”
Again he grabbed for her, his grip hurting her arm. He threw himself on top of her and she felt her dress tear against his grip. Jenny pushed against him, but he was too heavy. Now she was horrified. What was she going to do? She shrieked as his hands groped her body.
Suddenly, the carriage door opened with a jerk and Ian was pulled abruptly from the carriage. Jenny almost toppled out behind him. She quickly grabbed the seat to balance herself and tried to focus. All she saw was two men struggling on the ground. She didn't know what was happening. “Jenny, get out of the carriage quickly.” Jenny looked up in surprise to see Amy standing at the door to the carriage. Amy reached for her hand and she exited as quickly as she could. “Go in the house,” Amy insisted.
Jenny moved toward the house realizing that Gordon had lifted Ian off the ground and shoved him back into the carriage. “Take this man home and away from me, before I kill him.” Gordon shouted at the driver who had sat silently ignoring the goings on. The carriage moved away. Gordon's face was flushed. Amy brushed the dirt from his tuxedo.
“Oh, Gordon, you were magnificent.” Amy was hugging Gordon and fussing over him. He quietly fixed his coat and turned to Jenny, who stood open mouthed at the door.
“Gordon, I didn't know you were there. I was terrified.” Jenny was shaking. The quiet Gordon had some hidden talents. “Thank you so much. Amy is right, you were magnificent.”
“I was college boxing champion, Jenny.” Short and sweet, no wordy answers from Gordon, thought Jenny. She was so grateful. Her hands were still trembling.
“We followed you, because we knew Murphy was up to something.” Amy picked up where Gordon left off. “What we need is a nice cup of tea?” Amy mimicked Abigail breaking the tension. The others laughed. All three of them went into the house where Abigail and Zachariah were waiting. Amy put her arms around Jenny.
“Zachariah was about to come outside when we saw Amy and Gordon arrive. We were not going to leave you in that carriage for long, Jenny dear.” Abigail held Jenny's shaking hand.
“Harry will be along shortly. Lord Provost had him cornered, but Gordon told him in private, that we were going to follow you. Ian Murphy is such a beast, nothing, but a drunken beast. I hope you hurt him, Gordon.” Amy looked at Gordon with adoration.
He beamed. “I think Mr. Murphy will have a few aches and pains in the morning.”
“Did he hurt you my darling?” Amy moved to sit next to Gordon.
“No, he was too drunk to even get a punch in. Jenny, are you alright?” Jenny nodded.
“I don't know what might have happened if you didn't arrive when you did, Gordon, thank you again. I do hope he didn't hurt you in any way.” Her hands would not stop shaking.
Gordon just smiled. “Now how about that tea, Miss Abigail?” Amy rubbed his arm, checking his hand for bruises. He relished the attention. Abigail went to the kitchen for tea.
“My dress, he ripped my beautiful dress.” Jenny was recovering, but upset to see the dress ripped at the shoulder.
“Don't worry about the dress, Miss Hartford's staff will repair it, and the Lord Provost can pay for it! His nephew did the damage, and he caused this entire episode, so he can pay.” Amy's voice was raised. “That beast, how dare he do that to you?”
It was an hour later that Harry arrived and everyone started talking at once.
“Please just one of you, what happened here?” He could see that everyone was upset. Murphy came to his mind. Ian Murphy does it again. What now? “Jenny?”
“Mr. Murphy attacked me in the carriage.” Harry's face grew red with anger. His fists clenched at his sides.
“Gordon saved her Harry. He was such a hero.” Amy was gushing and Gordon turned away embarrassed.
“Gordon, thank you my friend. I hope you gave Murphy a good pounding.” Harry grabbed his hand and shook it thankfully.
“He will be sore in the morning; you can count on that.” Gordon returned to his seat followed closely by Amy. The others returned to the parlor. Jenny, safely in the fold of Harry's arm was still shaking. He wanted to kill Murphy, but right now his focus was Jenny.
Zachariah filled in the details for Harry, while the others drank their tea and finished a plate of Abigail's oatmeal cookies. “Cùis-éigin, that's what the bugger had in mind. If I was younger I would have killed him myself.” Harry nodded, thinking he still might.
Jenny was feeling better now that Harry was with her, but her mind was spinning. Now what will happen to my job? What will Harry do to Mr. Murphy? How will I face him again?
On Monday morning, Jenny had reached her decision with Harry's help. They talked for hours the night before, and she knew there was only one thing to do. Filled with dread, she walked into Mr. Johnson's office. “Mr. Johnson, may I speak with you on a matter of importance?”
“Of course, Miss Barstow, come in. I was just about to send Miss Carter to find you. The Lord Provost has requested that you see him in his office. He is expecting you.”
“The Lord Provost? I don't think I can see him right now, Mr. Johnson.” Jenny was growing more anxious. She twisted her skirt in her hands. “I must speak to you.”
“Go and see the Lord Provost now, and we will chat later.” He calmly walked to the door, opened it and gestured for her to leave. Slowly and hesitantly, Jenny walked out of his office.
The door closed. Miss Carter directed in her usual sarcastic manner, “The Lord Provost is waiting for you. I suggest you hurry, Miss.” Jenny looked at the woman unable to speak. Dumbfounded, she headed for the offices on the top floor. Her body moved her involuntarily; it was as if she were in a trance. Before she knew it, she was standing in John Murphy's office.
“Miss Barstow, please sit down.” Tension filled every pore of her body. “Miss Barstow?”
Jenny panicked. She blurted out, “Mr. Murphy, I really do not wish to be here. Something has happened and I think it is best that I resign.”
“Resign? Don't be silly girl. I called you here to give you this.” He held his hand outstretched. In it was a white envelope. Jenny just stared at it. “Take it.”
Slowly, she reached for the envelope. Her stomach was sickened with bile. Why won’t he just let me resign and be done with him and his nephew? She opened the envelope, finding it full of money. Jenny looked up at Murphy curiously. She did not say a word. They stared at each other for several minutes.
“What is this?”
“Just a little bonus for a job well done, Miss Barstow. Take it please, with my thanks.”
“A bonus for a job well done?” This was the last straw, “ It is more like a payoff for my silence.” Jenny lost all of her nervousness. Now she was angry, very angry. “You think you can buy my silence. Your nephew attacked me and if it wasn't for Mr. McDonald's arrival on the scene, I don't know what the outcome would have been. You just take your money back. I don't want it!” She threw the envelope on his desk.
“Miss Barstow! How dare you speak to me in such a manner?” John Murphy was shocked at her tone and her rage. “I don't think you realize who you are speaking to.” He was not used to having his offers rejected. He had misjudged her.
“How dare I? How dare I?” She repeated her response. Her entire body was shaking.
“Your nephew needs to be locked up. You can keep your money. I am resigning.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the room. John Murphy stared after her. He knew he would have to do something. She would not be silenced easily.
Jenny ran to the women's toilet. Arriving just in time, she vomited in the bowl. Her bravado had worn off; she collapsed in tears. Now what do I do?
Unfortunately, this gave John Murphy time to have his secretary send Mr. Johnson on an errand. By the time Jenny arrived at the office on the lower floor, Mr. Johnson was not in. Frustrated, she returned to her own office. The office was empty.
Mechanically she went through the invoices on her desk. She recorded the figures on the ledger page one after the other, not letting her mind wander. Four hours later, she finished her work. Slowly, she lifted her coat and hat from the rack, but before leaving, she returned to her desk removing the few personal items that she kept there.
Jenny looked around the room. The portraits on the wall seemed to be staring at her. She let her fingers trace the edge of the large oak desk, the desk that should have been hers. Gulping in a breath of air, she said goodbye to this dream. Jenny walked out of the building without looking back. She was finished with the city offices of Edinburgh. She wandered aimlessly down the Royal Mile, finally stopping at a bakery for a cup of tea. She had to think. Mr. Johnson deserved an explanation and Jenny wanted to do everything in a professional manner. She would have to resign in writing. But what excuse do I give? How did this happen? All I wanted was to start a new life in this beautiful city and now I have to resign because of Ian Murphy. She drank her tea, but she didn't taste it.
That night she composed a letter of resignation giving her reason as ‘personal.’ Zachariah delivered it to Mr. Johnson the next morning. Mr. Johnson was very upset. He had hoped Jenny would be employed by the city for many years, because he was very pleased with her work. Zachariah gave no explanation. He simply handed Mr. Johnson the letter, waited for him to read it and left.