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She brightened. “How fascinating.”
When Maddie had poured her own cup, she set it down to cool and took up her needlepoint. Under the guise of rethreading her needle, she observed Mr. Gallagher, unconcerned that he would notice. His focus was on his great-aunt, as he described the project. Thankfully, Lilah had settled at Maddie’s feet for another nap.
Although he wore a well-tailored sack coat, vest and trousers, the light khaki material of the trousers and the lightweight tweed of his jacket gave Mr. Gallagher a much less formal look than the average man about London. The few gentlemen to visit Lady Haversham—her solicitor, physician and old Reverend Steele—all wore long dark frock coats with matching vests and trousers, their somber colors seeming to underscore their lofty positions.
This man’s lighter-colored garments, like the desert sand, brought a foreign element into the parlor, making the room with its heavy dark furniture and surfaces covered with bric-a-brac suddenly appear more confined and overcrowded than usual.
Maddie drank in Mr. Gallagher’s words as he described the relatively new study of how long-ago civilizations had lived their daily lives. Maddie could picture it all so clearly because she’d spent a good portion of her girlhood in the Holy Land with her missionary parents. Egypt was very close to Palestine, and Mr. Gallagher’s narrative brought back memories of desert sands, swarthy people riding their camels or donkeys and bleached huts at the foothills of scrubby mountains.
As he described the harsh conditions of the dig, Maddie pictured him in wrinkled khakis and tall scuffed boots, a battered hat shading his piercing blue eyes from the sun. She’d noticed their color as soon as she’d been introduced to him, the moment he’d taken her hand in his in a strong, though brief, handshake. She judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties.
Mr. Gallagher would probably be startled at how much she already knew about him. When Lady Haversham wasn’t discussing her various ailments, she boasted of her great-nephew, who had followed in his great-uncle’s footsteps to become an Egyptologist and surveyor to the Crown in the lands between Africa and India.
Maddie’s attention quickened when she heard Mr. Gallagher tell his great-aunt, “The Royal Egypt Fund is sponsoring the lectures. It’s in their interest to promote Egyptology with the general public.”
“Yes, your uncle was on the forefront of getting the government interested in the artifacts over there. You must tell me when you’re to lecture, although I hardly get out anymore, you know. It was a dreadful winter. I didn’t think I’d survive that attack of pleurisy. Then with my usual neuralgia, I don’t know how I manage.”
“My first lecture is at the end of the week.”
“Oh, goodness. Well, this April weather is still much too changeable for me to venture forth.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to take any risks with your health.”
Maddie hoped he’d say more about when and where the lecture would be.
There was a lull in the conversation, then Mr. Gallagher said, “I’ve brought back a mummified head.”
“You haven’t!” His aunt’s eyes widened. “How ever did you find one?”
His fingers stroked his chin as he mused, “Sometimes it’s when you stop searching for something that you find it.” His glance crossed Maddie’s at that moment, and she realized she’d been staring at him.
To cover her embarrassment, she blurted out, “Would you like some more tea?”
“Oh, my yes, how remiss of us,” his aunt said immediately.
He looked down at his cup as if he’d forgotten he’d been holding it. “Yes, that would be just the thing.”
Before Maddie could rise, Mr. Gallagher stood and ambled over to the tea cart. Lilah stirred, but she only twitched her nose at the toes of his boots and didn’t bark.
Maddie felt dwarfed by the man’s above-average height as he paused in front of the cart. He continued his line of conversation as he held out his cup and saucer to Maddie with a smile.
“We discovered several mummy portraits dating to the Roman period. The site around the pyramid appears to be a royal burial ground.”
“Your Uncle George always wanted to find some proof of this procedure, but alas, was unsuccessful.”
Maddie poured the tea, hoping her hand didn’t shake. Then she lifted one lump of sugar with the silver tongs and set it into the cup with a small plop, fearful the tea would splatter. All the while, she was aware of his hand holding the saucer. Strong looking, tanned, like his face, to a deep hue. Then she noticed the gold wedding band on his ring finger. Lady Haversham had told her he was a widower of many years. Maddie’s heart went out to him in sympathy, thinking how he must continue to mourn his late wife, if he still wore the ring.
She discarded the used lemon slice and took a fresh one with another pair of tongs, then placed it on the edge of the saucer. There it slipped off, and as her hand flinched, trying to retrieve the lemon, he covered it for an instant with his free one.
“Steady there.” A trace of humor laced his husky voice.
She met his blue gaze and whispered a thank-you. “Anytime,” he murmured, before moving away from her.
She sat for the rest of his visit remembering the feel of his warm palm against her skin. Warm like the Egyptian sun.
Her mother used to say, “Your hands are always like ice.” Her father would immediately reply, “Cold hands, warm heart.”
Was it true? Did she have a warm heart? Sometimes, lately, she felt it squeezed dry by her employer. She shook aside the thought, reminding herself of her Christian duty to serve.
Mr. Gallagher sat back down. “I’ll be featuring the mummy’s head at my first lecture. It should draw a crowd.”
His aunt cut into her piece of cake. “When is the lecture precisely?”
Maddie’s hand stilled on her cup as she listened to his answer.
“The first one will be Thursday morning at ten. Another will be held on Friday afternoon. We’ll judge which times draw the most attendance before scheduling the others.”
Thursday at ten. That would be perfect. Lady Haversham generally didn’t stir until noon. Maddie would have plenty of time to get to the museum and back before she was even missed.
Thursday at ten. She committed the time to memory and determined to read everything she could lay her hands on about Egyptology in the meantime.
A new fear cropped up. Would Mr. Gallagher see her at the lecture? If so, what would he think? She didn’t want to appear forward in any way. After all she was only his great-aunt’s paid companion.
Paid companion. The ugly words reminded her who and what she had been for the last decade of her life.
From a young woman who’d dreamed of serving the Lord on the mission field, to a poorly paid employee at the beck and call of a spoiled society lady, the only difference between Maddie’s position and that of the other servants was the dubious distinction of sitting at her employer’s table. In everything else, she was repeatedly demeaned by word and gesture countless times a day.
Maddie sat back with a sigh, telling herself, as she’d been telling herself each day since she’d begun her job under Lady Haversham, that she should take joy in her service. She’d almost convinced herself until this afternoon, when Reid Gallagher had entered this airless parlor and reminded her of that other world out there that once had been her world, too.
Chapter Two
“These gilded mummy masks are particularly nice specimens.” Reid held up a pair of shiny gold heads for the audience to view. His eyes scanned the packed hall of the British Museum. The Egyptian Fund would be pleased with the sold-out crowd. There were even people standing in the back.
“We also have coverings for the upper parts of the body and the feet.” As he spoke, he set down the masks and took up the carved forms, the former showing crossed arms, and the latter, bare feet molded in gold.
“These were discovered in what we presume is a burial ground in Hawara, a few miles west of the Nile. The pyramid in the midst of this area was the burial tomb of King Amenemhat III.
“We were fortunate to uncover so many undisturbed items. Because they were buried so well, looters hadn’t yet discovered them.”
Reid kept looking from the objects he described to the people in the audience, trying to gauge if they were following what he was saying. He knew from previous presentations that his audience was composed of people from all walks of life. Few would have any in-depth archaeological knowledge.
His eyes swung back from the rear of the hall toward the front. Suddenly, his gaze backtracked, thinking he’d recognized a face. He had to peer behind a lady’s wide straw hat, flanked on either side by two large bird’s wings. A young woman sat behind and to one side of it. She appeared to be listening intently to his talk. A pity that from where she sat, there was little detail she’d be able to discern of the artifacts.
“This king lived in what is known as the Middle Kingdom.” He held up a large sculpted head of the pharaoh, all the while trying to place the face of the young woman. Reid had few acquaintances in London anymore, much less female ones.
Then it came to him. Aunt Millie’s latest companion. Reid glanced once again at the woman in the back as he explained how excavations were carried out. “We use a system called stratification, where a series of layers are carefully dug.”
He walked over to the tables covered with dozens of pots and numerous pottery fragments. “These pieces of sculpture and glazed faience were obtained in this manner. Although it’s more dramatic to come across a large monument like a pyramid, as my acclaimed colleague William Petrie says, to uncover the secrets of the past, it’s much more significant to study the everyday utensils of these buried sites. Hence, our emphasis on pottery shards.”
Although the young woman sat at the very rear of the large hall, Reid was almost sure she was the young lady he’d met in his great-aunt’s parlor the other day. She’d participated little in their conversation, but he’d been impressed with her quiet, competent manner toward Aunt Millie. What a contrast to her previous companions, women of indeterminate age with their nervous titters who fluttered around Aunt Millie every time she had an attack of the vapors.
Reid himself hardly knew how to deal with Aunt Millicent’s nerves. As a boy he’d always been slightly afraid of her exacting ways. He’d been relieved the other afternoon, when he’d thought Aunt Millie about to faint, and the steady Miss Norton had given him a reassuring look. Her light brown eyes had been sympathetic, as if telling him not to worry, she’d been through enough of these spells to manage.
Reid wrapped up the lecture with a brief description of the ancient Egyptian symbols called hieroglyphics that covered several wall painting fragments on display.
As the audience poured out of the lecture hall, Reid was immediately besieged by people asking him questions. He listened patiently and replied as briefly as possible knowing from experience that he could be kept hours after a lecture if he wasn’t careful.
The hall had cleared of most people when he spotted Miss Norton again, this time making her way to the front tables. He was in midsentence with a gentleman.
“Excuse me a moment, would you?”
“Oh—what? Certainly, Mr. Gallagher, certainly.”
Reid headed toward Miss Norton, glad he’d have a chance to repay the woman’s kindness to his aunt. He stood in front of her with a smile. “Miss Norton?”
“Yes?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. They were the same shade as her hair, a light tawny brown.
“Did Aunt Millicent decide to brave the weather and come to the lecture?”
“Oh, no—that is, she would have liked to but she didn’t feel quite up to it—”
Of course his aunt wouldn’t have come to this crowded lecture hall. Too great a chance of catching some infectious disease. “I understand completely. I hadn’t expected her to show. You came on your own, then?”
Her cheeks deepened with color, creating an attractive effect. “Yes…”
“You’re interested in Egyptology?”
“Yes. It’s a fascinating subject. I—I heard you mention the lecture to Lady Haversham. I thought it would be educational. I used to live in Palestine, you see,” she said quickly, her voice sounding breathless.
He raised an eyebrow, his interest deepening. “Really? When was that?”
She looked away as if embarrassed. “It was years ago, when I was a girl. My parents were missionaries there for some years.”
He sensed more to the story. When she remained silent, he cleared his throat. “I hope you enjoyed the lecture.” Too late he realized it sounded as if he was hunting for a compliment.
“Oh, yes, very much so!”
Her enthusiasm encouraged him. “I’m glad. With a general audience, it’s hard to know whether one is hitting the right note. I don’t like to simplify things too much, but neither do I want to make things so technical I lose people’s understanding.”
“Oh, you adopted just the right tone, I believe. When I looked around me, everyone seemed most attentive to everything you were saying.”
His lips curled up. “No one dozing off or fidgeting?”
She returned the smile. Her mouth was wide and generous, creating the impression that when she enjoyed something, she wouldn’t stint with her feelings. He was struck once again by the color of her eyes, a warm caramel hue. His mother, a painter, had instilled in him a sense of color, line and dimension, especially for the human face.
“I don’t believe so, though the hall was so crowded, I wasn’t able to observe everyone.”
“I usually make eye contact with my audience. That’s how I saw you, although I’m surprised I spotted you, you were so far back.”
She laughed. “I was behind someone with quite a prominent hat.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I noticed the bird hat. It’s a wonder you were able to see any of the artifacts at all. I wished I’d known you were here this morning. I would have had you seated up front.”
“That’s quite all right. I was fine where I was…although it was difficult seeing any of the detail of the objects.”
“Would you like to see them now?”
She moistened her lips, her glance straying to the artifacts. “That’s actually where I was headed when you saw me. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” She indicated the group of people waiting to speak to him.
“If you’re worried about them, don’t be. Come along.” Giving her no time for further consideration, nor to ask himself why he was taking the trouble with her, he took her gently by the elbow and directed her toward the front.
“Oh, Mr. Gallagher—” Reid turned to see the museum’s assistant curator approaching him. The slim young man cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “There are some gentlemen, museum patrons, you understand, who wish to have a word—”
“Yes, in a moment.” Before he knew what he was doing, he lowered his own voice, and indicated Miss Norton at his side. “A donor.” He mouthed the words, “Major donor.”
The man’s lips rounded in a silent O. Then he quickly backed away, bowing and smiling to Miss Norton.
Reid led her to the nearest table. When they reached the artifacts, Miss Norton turned to him. “You needn’t stay with me. I don’t want to take you away from those waiting to speak with you—”
For some reason, her very reluctance to keep him at her side strengthened his own resolve to remain there. “I told them you were a possible donor.”
She stared at him. “A what?”
He grinned, and suddenly he felt like a mischievousness boy despite his almost forty years. “If they think you’re a wealthy patroness of the museum, you’re sure to be escorted to the front at the next lecture.”
Her large eyes lit up with amusement. The next second she frowned. “I don’t like being dishonest with people.”
“You weren’t. I was. Being put on the lecture circuit is both a blessing and a curse. Apart from being an archaeologist for the Egyptian Fund, I’m also expected to raise money for future digs.”
“I should think that wouldn’t be so difficult. The place was packed today.”
His eyes scanned the lingering groups of people. “The fund will be pleased. The more we can generate interest in all things Egyptian, the more easily we can seek donations.”
She nodded. “It sounds a little like missionary work. They both depend on funding from home.”
“Yes, indeed.”
He indicated the first display. Miss Norton looked over each artifact, marveling at things that had been preserved for so many centuries beneath the earth. She bent over the gold masks. He was pleased to note she didn’t touch them, but looked at the brilliant surface painted with dark strokes to signal eyes and eyebrows, mouth and nose.
“What did you think of the talk?” Mr. Gallagher stood close to her, keeping his back to the lingering crowd, hoping that would keep them from being interrupted.
“It was wonderful. I never realized there was so much to know about the ancient cultures. When I lived in Palestine, it seemed we were living in Biblical times.”
She continued studying the artifacts, as he explained each one in more detail.
When they headed back to the lobby, a few people immediately came toward him. “Mr. Gallagher—” several voices began at once.
Ignoring them, he turned to Miss Norton, reluctant to end their time together so soon. “The lecture has left me quite thirsty. What about joining me for a cup of tea?”
