by Linda Ford
He’d given Maddie a quick training in some of the common artifacts from steles, sarcophagi fragments, plaster casts of wall reliefs covered in pictures, amulets, potsherds, faience vessels, wood carvings and basalt statue pieces. Mr. Gallagher had also given her a crash course in ancient Egypt, charting out for her the Old, Middle and New Kingdoms when the pharaohs had ruled. She’d gazed in fascination at the drawings he showed her of the massive tombs they’d built for themselves, some reaching skyward in the form of pyramids, others stone chambers underground, only recently rediscovered by the explorers and archaeologists traveling the length of the Nile River.
She realized how well he’d laid the groundwork before he’d ever set her to work to assist him with identifying the artifacts. It was only in the past few days he’d allowed Maddie to begin reading his uncle’s notes.
She hesitated to interrupt him now with her discovery. She’d learned in the last two weeks how single-minded his concentration was once he began to work. It only took one instance, when she’d read the barely disguised impatience in his eyes, to keep her from disturbing him unnecessarily.
Her times of unhindered concentration were another story as she remained at the beck and call of her employer. She turned now as a parlor maid entered the room and motioned to her.
Maddie rose and removed the white apron she’d worn when working among the artifacts. After folding it and placing it on the back of her chair, she left the room.
“Lady Haversham wants you, miss,” the maid said.
Maddie no longer bothered to ask what the trouble was about or if it couldn’t be taken care of by one of the staff of servants. Lady Haversham had made it clear when she called for Maddie, only Maddie would do, whether it was to pick up a fallen handkerchief or take Lilah out for a walk in the backyard.
“Thank you, I shall go to her at once.”
* * *
As soon as Miss Norton left the library, Reid tossed aside his pencil and straightened on the tall stool.
In the scant hours he had Miss Norton’s able assistance each day, it seemed his aunt couldn’t do without her for more than half an hour at a stretch. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, debating how to resolve the issue.
His concentration shot for the moment, he pushed back from the table and stood. Clearly, his aunt had no idea how much work was involved in what she’d set him to do. He gazed at the multitude of artifacts neatly laid out on every available surface in the large room. It wasn’t even half the stuff. His eyes lingered on the gilded bust of a young Egyptian prince—one of the prizes of the collection so far.
He still didn’t know where Uncle George had picked it up. He’d have remembered seeing it as a boy. It was most likely from the Valley of the Kings area. His uncle had spent several months in Thebes exploring the temples and tombs in and around Karnak and Luxor.
He wandered over to the space where Miss Norton had left her work. Taking up a pencil, he tapped it lightly back and forth against the tabletop between his fingers, his mind returning to his first thought. He hated the time wasted. He knew Miss Norton’s first duties were to his aunt, but he didn’t think he was being unreasonable in requiring her services in the midafternoon hours when his aunt had her accustomed nap.
The sound of the door reopening interrupted his thoughts. He turned with relief to see Miss Norton. His relief was short-lived as her first words were, “Excuse me, I need to run to the post for a moment.”
He merely nodded, realizing it would do no good to express his displeasure to her. She had no control over his aunt’s whims.
She approached the table where he stood. “I—I’m glad you’re up from your work. I didn’t want to interrupt you earlier, but I think I found something.” She pushed the notebook toward him.
He was immediately attentive, following her words as she read the journal’s entry and showed him the fragment. “And look here, the entry before this one describes a wooden crocodile figurine.” She held up a broken carving, her arm grazing his. She immediately moved away. “Well, this one was in the same box.” Her voice rose, its lilting tone conveying her enthusiasm. Reid focused his attention back to what she was saying, his arm still feeling her light touch.
“I was just going to read the next entry when I was called out.”
He took the notebook from her.
We found a cache of faience and terra-cotta cooking vessels, ornamental vases near the Theban necropolis.
Reid surveyed the articles before him, idly smoothing down his mustache with thumb and forefinger. His excitement grew the more he compared the journal entry descriptions with the objects ranged on the table. “I think a good many of these would qualify...yes,” he murmured, examining a terra-cotta pot on legs. “And it would confirm my feeling that he found these near Karnak.” He turned to her with a smile, his earlier displeasure dispelled. “Well done, Miss Norton, your first breakthrough.”
She returned the smile, her face blushing. He thought once again of Botticelli’s Venus.
Reid snapped his fingers, remembering something he had intended to do that day. Now was as good a time as any since Miss Norton would have little chance to do any more work that day. Her discovery made up for any lost time, however, and he could easily continue where she’d left off and gain a few hours’ progress.
“Before you head out, I have something for you.”
Her brows rose. “Something for me?”
He went to his portfolio and pulled out an envelope. “Your first fortnight’s wages.”
Her wide eyes grew rounder. “Wages?”
“Yes, I realize we never went over them. I thought what I usually pay a part-time assistant would be satisfactory.”
Since she didn’t reach out her hand to take the envelope, he held it out to her.
She took a step back. “Oh, Mr. Gallagher, I think you misunderstood. I never expected wages.”
He laid the envelope beside the notebook. “I think it’s you who misunderstood. I never would have requested your help in any capacity but a straightforward business transaction.”
She moistened her lips, deepening their rosy hue, and turned her face away from the table. “Of course, I understand that, but I never expected you to pay me in addition to what I’m earning from Lady Haversham. I—I feel d-dishonest collecting what amounts to two salaries at the same time.”
“No need to. They are wholly separate services you’re rendering. I made it clear to my aunt I needed an assistant and you’ve proved an able one. She agreed to share your services.” Before she could protest further, he ended the discussion. “I don’t expect to argue about this. It’s a paltry enough sum and you deserve every penny. Much of this work is tedious but it’s got to be done, and my time is limited. If you don’t accept it, I’ll have to find another who will.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Still she hesitated. Finally, she picked up the envelope and held it by the corners. “Very well. I shall only accept it on behalf of my brothers’ work in the mission field.” There was something, while not defiant, yet firm, in her quiet words.
He shrugged, rocking back on his heels. “You can do whatever you please with the funds. They’re yours.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you.” Without another word, she left the library.
After she’d gone, Reid sat at her place and continued with the notebook she’d worked on, glad that he’d hired Miss Norton. Aside from the interruptions, she was a most helpful assistant—quick to learn, interested in the subject matter, quiet and steadfast in her work habits. He couldn’t think of a better work partner. He remembered her pleasure when he’d complimented her on her discovery. Her tawny eyes had lit up, color suffusing her cheeks, and her rosy lips had widened into a generous smile.
Reid shook aside the image. He had no business noticing Miss Norton’s attributes other than those directly related to the work invo
lved. He turned his attention back to his uncle’s notes.
Little by little he matched more objects with those described in the journal. Several times, Reid stood and went to another part of the room, thinking he’d seen an object like the one described by his uncle. Little by little, piece by piece, he began to amass a picture of an excavation site. The thought flitted again through his mind of what an able assistant Miss Norton was.
* * *
Maddie paused at the top of the stairs, her hand on the newel. After a trying afternoon of waiting on Lady Haversham, the evening was finally her own. It mattered little that it was almost nine o’clock. She was grateful for at least one hour of peace and quiet before retiring.
She gazed down the length of the grand staircase, feeling the pull of the library. She could hardly wait until tomorrow to take up the thread she’d discovered in the late Sir George’s notebook. She loved finding herself in the world of adventure Mr. Gallagher had opened up to her.
She debated a second longer. She didn’t like going into the library outside of the daylight hours, feeling like an intruder, but her curiosity was too strong. Finally, she took a step down. Just another peek at the notebook, she decided, to reread the entry she’d stopped at.
As she approached the door, she perceived a crack of light under it through the gloom of the corridor. She turned the knob slowly, but as the door opened, she breathed a sigh of relief, seeing Mr. Gallagher.
Then she frowned. Had he been here all afternoon and evening...and everyone unaware of it? She cleared her throat softly. He looked up immediately. “Oh, you’re back, Miss Norton.”
“I didn’t know you were still here. Or did you leave and return?”
Only then did he seem aware that night had fallen. He glanced at the darkened windows before rising. With a loud yawn, he took a leisurely stretch, making Maddie aware of the lean, taut length of him. She shifted her gaze to his rugged face. “No, I’ve been here all afternoon. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
She gave a surprised laugh. “It’s past nine o’clock.”
“Is it?” He didn’t seem unduly concerned. “Come, look what your discovery has led to.”
She hurried to his side. Her wonder grew as he showed her all the artifacts that he’d labeled in the time she’d left him. He’d even pinpointed the area on a map tacked up to the wall.
“I was able to locate pieces from two other cartons of artifacts.” He stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your careful observation this afternoon certainly helped me put a dent in this project.”
She warmed at the brief words of praise then sobered, remembering the generous sum of money he’d paid her that very afternoon. “I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly. I wasn’t much help to you. My goodness, this represents hours of work.” She shook her head at the array of meticulously labeled objects ranging from broken bits of pottery to carved masks.
“Don’t worry about it.” His low voice soothed her. “I’m just grateful you noticed the connection. It took some astute observation.”
She said nothing. Suddenly she frowned. “Have you eaten? Did you ring for the maid for any refreshment?”
He shook his head, looking a bit sheepish. “To tell you the truth, I cleanly forgot all about the time of day—or night,” he added with another glance at the dark windowpanes visible through the long, parted velvet drapes. “I could use something now. With your permission, I’ll rummage through my aunt’s pantry.” A sly grin tugged at his lips. “I used to sneak down in the middle of the night as a boy. Let’s see if I can remember where everything is.”
“Come along,” she said with a laugh. “You don’t have to do any sneaking. I’m sure Lady Haversham would be upset if she knew you’d sat here so many hours without having something sent up.” As they extinguished the lamp and exited the library, she said, “What were you doing up at midnight in those days?”
“Oh, I’d get to reading some adventure story and wouldn’t be able to put it down even after I’d been told to put out my light. By the time I’d finished the book, I’d be famished.”
She smiled in understanding. “That reminds me of how I felt this afternoon when I had to leave off reading your uncle’s notebook, as if a good story had been snatched out of my hands at the most exciting spot.”
He chuckled. “I would have left it for you, but I felt the same, like I had to pursue that lead. My own trail had grown frustratingly cold and I wasn’t making any headway.”
She pushed open the kitchen door. “Well, I’m glad I gave you some kind of start today.” She turned up the gas lamps and headed toward the pantry. “What would you like? There’s some cold roast from dinner.”
“Nothing too much. If you have an apple, maybe a piece of cheese.”
“Are you sure that’s all you need?”
“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 did
n’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?