by Linda Ford
“And I’d better see if my new assistant has arrived.” He cleared his throat, looking away from her. “Listen, I meant to tell you how much your gift meant to me.”
“Oh—” She flushed, remembering her puny gift. “That was nothing, just a small token—”
“No, it wasn’t nothing. It was a beautiful piece of workmanship.”
She warmed at the praise. “Nothing like an artifact.”
He was looking at her so intently. “No, the same. Both are works of art. It was a very appropriate line of verse you chose, as well.”
“I’ve enjoyed the poems very much. That one seemed...fitting.”
“Very. It was just the antidote I needed for the vague melancholy that hit me as the day wore on.”
Maddie couldn’t look away from his steady gaze. Had he experienced the same kinds of thoughts she had on her birthday? It didn’t seem possible. His life was too full. “I’m glad you liked it then. It wasn’t much—”
“It was a great deal.”
“I imagined you surrounded by a crowd of acquaintances on your birthday.”
“I was and yet I felt quite alone. When I got back to my rooms, your gift was just the lift I needed. It took me back to Scotland.”
Her stomach fluttered, and she averted her eyes from his steady blue gaze. “I’m glad I could be part of your day in some small way then,” she whispered.
“So am I.”
Without daring to look at him to read what was in his eyes, Maddie opened the door to the corridor behind her. “Well, I—I’d better run along.”
“Yes.” He didn’t move and she could feel his gaze still resting on her.
She finally forced herself to take a step away from him. They heard Lilah’s bark somewhere on the ground floor. “Oh, dear, Lilah’s getting restless. Thank you for the cycling lesson, Mr. Gallagher.” With a quick curtsy, she turned and hurried down the corridor.
“Miss Norton—”
She whirled around at the sound of his voice. “Yes?”
He held up his hand. “Until tomorrow.”
* * *
A few idyllic mornings followed. Mr. Gallagher was always on time and the two spent the next hour cycling first along the quieter routes of Hyde Park, and then down to Chelsea. One morning they pedaled all the way to the embankment where they rested a while gazing out over the Thames and across to Battersea Park.
It was only by chance, while attending to Lady Haversham in the parlor, that Maddie heard of the great honor about to be bestowed upon Mr. Gallagher. “I’ve told him he must have all new stationery ordered. Sir Reid Gallagher, what a fine ring it has,” Mrs. Walker said to her aunt.
Sir Reid Gallagher. So, he was to be knighted.
Mr. Gallagher’s sister continued with a sound of disbelief. “He said it wasn’t necessary. What was he to do with fine stationery in the desert? Can you believe that?”
Lady Haversham shook her head. “I don’t know how he comes upon such outlandish ideas. Well, the ceremony is in a few nights. I wish I could be there, but alas, it would be too much for me.”
“Yes, I know. But Theo and I shall be in attendance. Oh, I’ve ordered the most beautiful gown, an emerald satin embroidered in glacé silk. It features the new puffed sleeves. I had it copied from La Mode Illustrée....”
Maddie listened intently but nothing more was said about Mr. Gallagher. She sat in awe of his impending knighthood. He hadn’t said a word to her about it. But of course, why should he tell her anything of his personal affairs?
Her heart warmed, though, at the thought of the honor. If anyone deserved such recognition from the Crown, it was Mr. Gallagher. How she wished she could be there to see him knighted by the Queen.
Should she say something to him about it? Offer him her congratulations? Perhaps when they went cycling tomorrow morning. But the fact that he hadn’t told her meant he didn’t want her to know. Perhaps he was just being modest. From all she’d gotten to know of him, she understood how little outward distinctions meant to him.
She decided not to say anything unless he gave her any indication of the upcoming ceremony.
The next two days it rained and Maddie didn’t see Mr. Gallagher at all. She knew he came by to work in the library with his new assistant, but she was kept so busy by Lady Haversham that she had no opportunity to see him at all.
* * *
Reid made an impatient sound as he nicked himself a second time with his razor. What was wrong with him this afternoon?
He dabbed at the blood with a washcloth, then paused at the knock on his door.
“Come in.”
Cyril’s head appeared around the doorway. “Just popped in to see how you’re getting on before the big event.” His friend sauntered in, dressed in black tailcoat, his thick hair plastered down with macassar oil. “Goodness, man, aren’t you ready?”
Reid turned back to the mirror over the basin, dressed in shirtsleeves. “Almost, if I don’t leave my face a road map of cuts.”
“Why don’t you have a valet?”
“I travel light,” he answered shortly, concentrating once more on his razor. Finally, with a last swipe to his jaw, he rinsed the remaining soap off his face and toweled it dry.
Cyril lifted a book off his nightstand and flipped through it. Reid struggled to attach the starched white wing collar to his shirt. His fingers felt twice their normal size on the small buttons.
“Pretty bookmark,” remarked Cyril. “Quite lovely, in fact. Picked it up while you were in Scotland?”
“Er—no.” He looked at himself in the mirror and took each end of the tie in his hands. “It was a gift.”
Cyril raised an eyebrow. “Very nice. Have to ask my wife to fashion me something like this.” He noticed Reid’s task. “Good gracious, man, you’re making a hash of that tie. Here, let me.”
His friend took the white ribbon from his fingers. “My wife always does mine.” In a few deft movements, he managed a presentable bow. Patting down the points of Reid’s turndown collar, he stepped back. “There, that should do it. You really need to get yourself a valet, or at least a wife.” With a chuckle he retrieved Reid’s coat on a chair and helped him on with it. “Ready? You don’t want to be late for the Queen. The way it’s raining, the streets are jammed.”
Reid tugged at the shirtsleeves under the coat sleeves. Why was he feeling so on edge? Could a knighthood bring him to this state of nerves? He wasn’t the kind of person to let things get to him, much less ceremonial nonsense.
Or was it because he hadn’t been able to talk to Maddie in so many days? She didn’t even know what he’d be going through this evening. What would she think of it? Would it matter to her at all? Would she think this was just a worldly vanity?
Cyril clapped him on the back. “Relax, old fellow. It’s not as if you’re going to the gallows.”
He smiled at his friend’s attempt at humor. “It certainly feels like it at the moment.” He paused. “Listen, I promised my aunt I’d stop in before I left for the ceremony. She’s not up to attending, herself.”
“Capital idea. I haven’t seen Lady Haversham in an age.”
Reid hesitated. He’d really been hoping to catch a glimpse of Maddie at his aunt’s, and he felt awkward enough as it was. It seemed his aunt kept Maddie hidden away these days. “Why don’t you—uh—meet me at the palace? You’ll see Vera and Theo there.”
“If you’d prefer. We’ll wait for you there then. Don’t be long. Remember the traffic.”
“Yes, I’ll be only a few minutes behind you.”
The two left Reid’s room. At the entrance to the club, they parted. Reid hailed a hansom, thinking of the coming few hours. What he really needed was to see and talk to Maddie. He tapped a finger against his knee, wondering how to manage that if she wasn’t sitting with his aunt. And if she was, how to see
her alone? He needed to—what? Talk to her? He glanced out the rain-streaked carriage window, trying to analyze the longing he’d felt since the last time they’d gone cycling together. He’d be happy with just a few moments in her quiet presence. That would rectify everything.
* * *
Maddie opened the door to the parlor to fetch her needlework.
She stopped short at the sight of Mr. Gallagher. She hadn’t seen him in three days, but it seemed longer. She certainly hadn’t expected to see him tonight. She knew it was the day of his knighthood.
He turned at the sound of the door and her breath caught. Never had she seen him so distinguished looking, not even the night of the dance in Scotland. He wore an elegant black tailcoat and trousers, a gleaming white shirtfront and low-cut, black silk waistcoat and bow tie. His blond hair was combed meticulously, making it shimmer. “Miss Norton.”
Her hand went to her chest, as if to quiet its heartbeat. “I’m sorry... I didn’t know anyone was in here. Have you come to see Lady Haversham?”
“Uh—yes.”
She moistened her lips, unable to tear her gaze away from him. She should excuse herself. He was here to see Lady Haversham. This was his big night. “I... I’ll leave you then.”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “That is, won’t you stay a moment?”
She hesitated, knowing Lady Haversham wouldn’t be pleased to find her alone with her nephew. Maddie hadn’t missed the fact that Lady Haversham excluded Maddie from any occasion on which Mr. Gallagher visited his aunt.
Finally, she took a few more steps into the room, deciding she would at least offer Mr. Gallagher her best wishes. “I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve heard?”
She nodded with a tentative smile.
“The ceremony is this evening at Buckingham Palace.”
“It’s quite an honor.”
He made a gesture. “Yes. I don’t know as I deserve it, but the Crown seems to think I’ve done them a service with my work in antiquities.”
“Oh, yes!” she added.
When he said nothing, she said, “Your aunt must be very proud of you.”
“Yes...” He gave a slight smile. “I’m sorry my Uncle George isn’t around to give me some advice. He received a knighthood, as well.”
“I’m sure he’d have been very proud.” She moved farther into the room. “Is the ceremony...very long?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how many are being honored, I suppose. My aunt won’t be attending, so I thought I’d stop by and see her before going on to Buckingham.”
“Of course, how thoughtful of you. I know she’ll be gratified to see you dressed so elegantly—” She stopped, feeling herself begin to redden.
He made a motion of dismissal about his appearance. “She rarely has that privilege...those things are important to her...” He ended, his gaze shifting away from her. “Have you ever met the Queen?”
“No. I saw her during the Jubilee a few years ago, but it was from quite far off. She was riding by in an open carriage.”
He turned away from her and began fiddling with a pile of sheet music on the top of the piano.
“Have you ever met her?” she said after a moment.
“No... I never have...” He tapped the piano top, still looking away from Maddie. He seemed distracted, and she wondered if she should leave.
Instead, she approached the instrument. “Are you nervous? About the knighthood, I mean?”
“Yes... I suppose...a bit.” He coughed. “It’s a silly thing really.” He fidgeted some more with the sheet music, realigning it into a neat pile.
Maddie took a few steps closer to him, trying to decide what she could say to ease his mind.
He swung around and he seemed surprised to see her standing so close. “Oh—”
“I’m sorry—” They both began to speak at once and just as quickly fell silent.
Suddenly the atmosphere between them was charged. Maddie couldn’t move although courtesy dictated she take a step back if she stood this close to a person. He, too, seemed unable to move. Before she could command herself to breathe again, he reached out and touched a loose strand of her hair by her temple.
Her lips parted as she stared at him. He seemed fascinated by the lock. His gaze shifted to her lips. Maddie found her own glance going to his lips and she wondered what his thick mustache felt like. Was it soft or bristly?
Before she could stop the absurd direction of her thoughts, he was leaning toward her.
His lips touched hers. A kiss as soft as a breath...
She felt the earth crumbling beneath her like grains of sand loosening until nothing was left but a tiny pinnacle directly under her toes. Then that, too, was gone and she would have fallen if his hands hadn’t come up to hold her.
He pressed his lips more firmly to hers, the soft hairs of his mustache brushing her skin. She sighed, lifting her arms to his waist, her fingertips touching the soft wool of his jacket. The strength of his back seemed to emanate through the material, as her arms encircled him.
His kiss deepened and she was lost in the touch and scent of him. Sandalwood...the softness of his lips...the rough-smooth feel of his shaved skin...the thickness of his mustache.
The next instant empty air met her as he took a step back. She would have lost her balance if she hadn’t reached out and found the solid piano beside her.
He half turned from her, his hand covering his mouth and jaw. “I beg your pardon. I—please forgive me for taking such liberties—”
Maddie was too stunned by what had just happened to take in his words.
He turned his back fully to her. “I’m sorry... I don’t know what I was thinking—” He seemed to be collecting himself.
Her head swung around at the sound of the door. “Ah, there you are, Reid. Why didn’t you tell me you’d arrived? How elegant you look.” Lady Haversham frowned at Maddie. “I didn’t know you were here, Madeleine.” Her eyes went from Maddie to Mr. Gallagher. “Is there something you need?”
Maddie pressed her lips together, her heart feeling as if it had been yanked from her and now was trying to find a way to retreat back into herself away from harm. “I w-was ju-just on my way out.” She glanced at Mr. Gallagher but he hadn’t looked at her once since breaking their embrace. She didn’t know how she managed to reach the door. Her fingers gripped the knob as if it was her only hold on reality. At last she was able to close the door behind her, softly but firmly. She brought her fingers up to her mouth. Had she just dreamed his kiss? It had been over so quickly she wondered if she’d just conjured it up from some deep-seated desire. The lingering scent of his cologne was her only evidence that it had been no dream.
Oh, Lord, what happened? Was it wrong of him to kiss me? Was it wrong of me to kiss him back? She clutched her chest, feeling a pain so deep at his rejection of their kiss. What was she to do now? How could she ever face him again, having revealed her own feelings so fully when he’d so obviously repudiated their kiss?
* * *
What had he done? Reid got through his interview with his aunt somehow, thankful she’d probably attribute his lack of coherency to his nerves before the ceremony.
He hurried from her house and remounted the awaiting cab, cursing himself once more. What had he done? Had he gone mad? Kissing Miss Norton! He no longer dared call her Maddie. That kind of liberty meant only one of two things: either he had no respect for her or the complete opposite—he meant to ask for her hand in marriage. The former was certainly not true, and the latter...was impossible.
He rubbed his jaw in frustration, wishing he could undo the last quarter of an hour, at the same time craving another moment in Miss Norton’s company. He remembered being mesmerized by the look of her rosy, half-parted lips, feeling all restraints in him snap at th
e sound of her soft intake of breath.
What was worse was her look of shock when he abruptly drew away from her, the sheen of tears in her eyes the more he’d heaped a pile of inept apologies on her. He could murder himself for having taken advantage of her sympathetic nature. She probably thought him the most insensitive, worthless scoundrel and she’d be right in her estimation.
She deserved at least a decent explanation from him. Could he bring himself to do that? Not having had to bare his heart before anyone for so long, he didn’t know if he was capable of it.
* * *
The investiture ceremony, which should have been a high point in his career, went by in an indistinct haze as his mind kept reliving what had occurred in his aunt’s parlor just previously. Reid knelt before the old Queen and scarcely felt the blade of the sword as she touched him lightly on each shoulder. He went through the motions, barely aware of the usher leading him away into the courtyard where a photographer took pictures of him and his family. He automatically shook hands with all those who congratulated him. Afterward, they all went to his sister’s where a crowd of well-wishers gathered.
At last it was over, and he was able to return to his room. He lay on his bed, in his shirtsleeves and trousers, his head pillowed under his arms, thinking only of Maddie. How was it possible to care for another woman the way he’d cared for Octavia so many years ago?
He turned on his side, away from Octavia’s photograph, but even so, her soft features reproached his back. The recriminations became unbearable until he could no longer stand them but was forced to get up and walk to the French windows that led to a narrow balcony. He stood, leaning his head in his hands against the stone railing, condemnation weighing against him like an avalanche.
* * *
When Mr. Gallagher had left, Maddie found herself summoned once more, this time to Lady Haversham’s sitting room.
The older lady was standing, her walking stick planted into the carpet beside her. “What have you to say for yourself, Miss Norton?” The woman’s pale blue eyes glittered at her in outrage.