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“Yes, I really should head back to my rooms. I need to get an early start tomorrow at the museum.”
She nodded and ducked into the pantry. A few minutes later, she set a plate of thick slices of bread and cheese and quartered apples before him.
“Thank you,” he said, from where he sat on a stool at the worktable. “This is more than adequate.”
She offered him a glass of buttermilk.
“Won’t you join me?” he asked with a gesture at the plate.
Her heart skipped a beat at the invitation. Suddenly the cavernous kitchen took on intimate proportions. “No, thank you. I’ll just have a glass of buttermilk.”
“I hope I’m not keeping you up.”
“Not at all. I had just read to your aunt and was going to head up to my own room. I couldn’t help coming down to look at the notebook again. Just to be sure I hadn’t fooled myself this afternoon.” She smiled.
“I can understand perfectly. It’s the reason I couldn’t leave this afternoon.”
“Your uncle must have been an interesting man.”
He nodded, munching on an apple slice. “He was. You must have gotten a sense of the risks he took on his travels.”
“I’m amazed at the number of times he barely escaped with his life.” Maddie rested her chin on her hand, finding the same level of companionability with Mr. Gallagher that she’d experienced in the tearoom.
They continued speaking about Egypt and the discoveries made there over the last decades. Mr. Gallagher tore off a piece of bread. “Unfortunately, there has always been a spirit of competition amongst the different national expeditions—the Brits trying to beat the French, who are trying to beat the Germans—with who can unearth the most artifacts.” He shook his head. “We’d have probably made more headway and prevented some of the needless destruction if we’d worked together.”
When he’d finished the light snack, she offered him some more, but he declined. “I really must be going. Thanks for the fare. It should hold me till morning.” He gave her another grin, and she realized for the countless time in the last fortnight how ruggedly handsome he was.
“A-are you staying far from here?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t too personal.
“Not too far. I’m at the Travellers Club in Mayfair. It’s an easy walk.”
She wondered at his staying at a club instead of with family or in a flat of his own. As if reading the question in her mind he said, “It didn’t seem worthwhile getting my own rooms. When I come to London, it’s usually for a short stay. It’s more convenient just to put up at my club.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She well knew how dismal a rented room could be. Did he have a place to call home in Egypt or did he live as a nomad in the desert? She wished she could ask but knew she’d never dare. He held the door open for her as they exited the kitchen together.
She escorted him to the front door where he’d left his jacket, thinking all the while that it was a pity such a man was so alone. She knew he had a sister in London in addition to his aunt, but he didn’t appear terribly close to them.
The night was fresh but not cold when they stood on the stoop.
He took a deep breath, a look of disgust clouding his chiseled features. “I don’t know how people live in this city. The air smells of sulfur and you can never see the stars.”
She glanced up at yellow-gray aureoles of the gas lamps against the dark sky. “I guess we forget what clean air and a night sky are like.”
“On the Egyptian desert you can begin to comprehend what a ‘blanket of stars’ really means. Between the cold dank winters and soot-filled air, I don’t know why anyone would want to inhabit London.”
She didn’t know what to say. That not everyone had a choice? That not everyone had the freedom he seemed to have?
He grinned. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’ve never liked this city and feel like a mule with a bit in his teeth every time I’m forced to step back in it.”
“I—I hope for your sake then that your time here will be short.” She said the words while fighting the wish that his stay would be lengthy.
“Thanks…though it looks like I’ll be here for a while.”
“May the Lord grant you the grace then to support it.”
“I am grateful for the guidance He gave you today in making the connection in that journal.” He took a step away from her. “I’d better let you get some sleep. Thanks for the snack. Thanks even more for your help in the library.” He stood a few seconds longer, and she wondered if he was as reluctant to leave as she was to have him leave.
“Well, good night,” he said at last, taking another step away.
“Good night, Mr. Gallagher.”
With a wave, he turned and began walking briskly down the gaslit street. Maddie stood watching him until he’d disappeared into the evening mists. With a sigh she stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. Why did it seem she was enclosing herself inside a tomb like those of the pharaohs while Mr. Gallagher had fled to the only freedom available?
Had the last decade of her life been nothing but a futile servitude? She’d believed she was following the Lord’s will for her life, but seeing it now through Mr. Gallagher’s eyes awakened all the long-ago dreams of the call of the mission field in a faraway land. Had she missed her true calling?
Chapter Five
The next afternoon Maddie sat in the parlor, once again overseeing the tea service. This time not only did Mr. Gallagher sit with Lady Haversham, but also his sister and her three children.
Over the din of the two rowdy boys, Lady Haversham said to her great-niece, “Reid must get out in society a bit while he’s home. You know I can’t do as much as I’d like. I was counting on you and Theo to organize a few things.”
“Of course, Aunt Millicent. You know we’d love to.” Vera Walker adjusted the lace fichu at her neck. “What about a musical soiree here Friday a week?” She turned to her brother, her tone gaining enthusiasm. “I could invite your old school chums Harold Stricklan and Steven Everly. Did you know Steven was just made vice president of Coutts Bank? Theo just ran into—”
Before she could finish the sentence, her oldest son rushed by her and bumped into her knee, sending tea sloshing from her cup into her saucer and onto her silk dress.
“Harry! See what you’ve done to Mama’s frock! You naughty boy!”
“I’m sorry, Mama.” He didn’t stop but whipped around the settee, closely followed by his brother.
“Timmy!”
At the same time his sister, who was sitting on the floor beside the sleeping Lilah, petted the dog too briskly and Lilah sat up and began to growl.
Lady Haversham leaned forward in her chair to see what was being done to her pet. “Careful, child! Madeleine, take the children to the garden, please.”
“Yes, my lady.” She rose immediately, knowing the command had been coming. Stifling a sigh, she rounded up the children, who jumped at the chance to be free of the confines of the parlor, and herded them downstairs.
“I had to let go their nursemaid. The woman was unreliable—” were the last words Maddie heard as she closed the parlor door behind her.
Harry, the oldest boy said to his younger brother, Timmy, “I bet I can beat you at jacks.”
“No, you can’t!”
The two continued arguing.
“Hush, children, until we’re outside.” Maddie took the two youngest firmly by the hand and began walking toward the staircase.
She herself wouldn’t have minded a brief respite in the garden if it weren’t for the fact she would have no peace for the next half hour.
Once in the backyard, the boys forgot their game of jacks and started running around the bushes.
Maddie clapped her hands, trying to get their attention, knowing Lady Haversham would be upset if any flower beds were trampled. “All right, children, what would you like to play? What about graces?”
“That’s a girl’s game!” The two boys made faces, their shouts drowning out their sister’s assenting voice.
“What about hoops and sticks?”
“Blindman’s bluff!” The boys jumped up and down until Maddie complied. It was no use arguing with them, she’d learned. She procured a large silk handkerchief from her pocket. “Who’s to go first?”
“You! You! You!”
“Very well.” She tied the scarf around her eyes. Before she could prepare herself, the older boy, an oversize ten-year-old, grabbed her from behind by the elbows and twirled her around. She groped the air in front of her to keep from losing her balance.
“You can’t catch me!” Harry’s voice came from a few feet away. Immediately they all copied him. Maddie swung around as each voice neared her but she was never close enough, and she didn’t want to take the easy way out and catch Lisbeth, the youngest. She knew she was moving farther down the garden, as their voices rang out from that end.
From past experience, she knew the boys would have her at their mercy until they tired of the game and needed her attention for a new amusement. In the meantime, she needed to grit her teeth and play along, hoping not to trip along the uneven brick walk, and praying she wouldn’t damage one of Lady Haversham’s prized bushes.
Tired of the women’s chatter around him, Reid wandered to the window, teacup in hand. He’d been sorely tempted to follow his niece and nephews out but Vera had insisted on his participation at that moment in planning her soiree. As the two women worked out the details of an afternoon musicale, he took a sip of tea and peered down into the garden, wondering what his unruly nephews were up to.
He spotted Miss Norton first, barely visible under an apple tree’s bower of blossoms. Her hands were upraised and she appeared to be calling out to the children. He didn’t see any of them at first, then one by one he saw them all up in the tree. His lips twitched in a smile until he discerned that Miss Norton was trying to get them to come down and not having an easy time of it.
Remembering the unmannerly behavior of the children the short time they’d been in the parlor, he set his teacup down on the tea tray and headed toward the door.
Vera broke off in midsentence. “Where are you going, Reid? We haven’t decided on the guest list for the musicale.”
He was already halfway across the room. “You and Aunt Millicent take care of it. Just let me know the date and time, and I’ll show up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a moment.”
Before Vera could ask him anything more, he shut the door behind him.
When he reached the garden, he heard the children’s shouts and laughter.
“You can’t get us unless you climb up.”
“You must get down immediately, Harry, and you, too, Timmy. Your sister might hurt herself. Where are you, Lisbeth?”
The six-year-old girl only giggled in glee.
“You know your aunt won’t like it that you’re in her apple tree. It’s her best orange pippin.”
“We won’t come down till you come up!”
“You aren’t playing by the rules. Now come down, Timmy.”
In reply, the boy shook the tree branch at her and a shower of blossoms littered the ground. “It looks like it’s snowing!”
“Oh, you mustn’t do that. Your aunt won’t have any fruit in the autumn if you knock the blossoms off now.”
Reid reached the tree and spied Lisbeth first on a lower branch. “Whoever thinks he can beat me in a race around the square gets a half crown.” He turned away from the tree, calling out over his shoulder, “Last one down’s a rotten egg.”
As he walked toward the garden gate, he heard scrambling and shouts as three small bodies shimmied down the tree.
“Lisbeth’s a rotten egg!” The boys called over their shoulders as they caught up to Reid. Lisbeth began to cry.
Miss Norton removed her blindfold and smoothed her hair before going to crouch by the weeping child.
“There, Lisbeth, why don’t you come along with me, and we’ll show those boys you can beat them in the race?”
Reid’s niece sniffed.
“Where’s your handkerchief, honey?”
Leaving the child with Miss Norton, Reid herded the boys into the mews. They ran down the alley until they reached Belgrave Square. Reid took them to the nearest tree and marked out the starting place. “You’ll run inside the square, all around and end back here.”
Harry’s chest puffed out. “That’s easy.”
“We’ll see. Now, let’s wait for your sister and then when I say ‘go,’ run with all your speed. Watch that you don’t cheat by cutting the corners or you’ll be disqualified.”
As Miss Norton crossed the street and approached them, holding his niece by the hand, he smiled. “I thought you could use some reinforcements.”
“Indeed, thank you.” She shaded her eyes and looked across the large, tree-studded square. “Are you sure it’s not too far for the children?”
“They needn’t complete the course. I’m only hoping to rid them of some of their excess energy.”
“Yes, I see.” Her eyes twinkled, and he noticed again how exactly her eye and hair color matched, a rich, caramel color like the toffees he used to enjoy as a boy.
He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the boys. “All right, on your mark.” They lined up at the spot he indicated. “Go!”
He jogged alongside them, making sure not to overtake them. Lisbeth soon trailed behind and began to cry. By the second corner of the square, he glimpsed Miss Norton, who’d once again taken the girl by the hand and walked along beside her, encouraging her. Harry ran ahead of Timmy by a good lead, but as the older brother rounded the third corner, his foot tripped on a tree root, and he went flying headlong.
Reid ran up to him, the boy’s sobs reaching across the large square. The fall hadn’t looked serious enough to merit the boy’s wails. Reid knelt by him.
His nephew clutched one knee in both hands. “I…th-think it’s br-broken…!”
The trouser leg was torn and the knee scraped. Reid probed the area around it gently, but determined that no further damage had been done. Timmy leaned over his brother, panting heavily. “Does this mean I won the race, Uncle Reid?”
This only made Harry sob the louder. “You didn’t win! That’s not fair! Tell him he didn’t win, Uncle Reid! I was ahead. You saw me!”
Reid smiled at Timmy. “I think it means there’ll be a rematch once your brother’s fully recovered. What do you think, Harry? Does that sound fair?”
He swiped a sleeve across his runny nose. “I would’ve won fair and square if that tree root hadn’t been in my way.” He glared at his younger brother. “I would’ve beat you today, just like I’ll beat you by a furlong anytime we race!”
“I wasn’t the one who fell on my face and then cried like a girl!” Timmy began hopping on one foot and then the other. “Waaa!” he bawled in imitation.
Miss Norton and Lisbeth reached them. Miss Norton knelt on Harry’s other side. “Is he badly hurt?”
“Nothing more than you see. Come on, champ, let’s see if you can stand.” He held out a hand to his nephew. “’Attaboy.”
Harry wiped his nose again. “It hurts something awful, Uncle Reid.”
