Hearts In The Highlands. Ruth Axtell Morren
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I’d prefer just the sandwiches. That way I can work for another hour or so before leaving. I need to get back to the museum to continue with the other collection. If you could make my excuses to Aunt Millicent.”
“Certainly. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
She offered him the plate of sandwiches and he took one. “Just seeing them makes me realize I’m famished.”
She smiled, and he noted again how expressive her face was. His artist mother had dragged him through every museum in whichever country they’d been living in. Now he valued the lessons. It gave him an appreciation for the human form.
Miss Norton reminded him of paintings from the Italian Renaissance, he decided, with her pale skin and tawny hair. She had a rather thin but mobile face, her caramel-brown eyes large and her mouth generous. Botticelli. Botticelli’s Birth of Venus with its mixture of sadness and kindliness in the shapely eyes.
He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until she moved away from the desk and gazed at the opened boxes on the floor. “My, I never realized there were so many things in storage.”
“Nor did I.” He leaned against the desk and took a bite from a sandwich quarter.
She peered into an open box but didn’t take anything out, which also pleased him. Most people would grab anything unusual with no regard to its fragility. He had noticed the same thing at the museum. Although she’d asked a lot of questions about the mummy masks, she hadn’t touched anything.
She paused at the open journal on the floor.
“Notes?”
He nodded. “Travel journals, but they contain quite some detail on the artifacts. My uncle did some extensive exploration in the years he was in Egypt.”
Her eyes widened with interest. “When was he there?”
He calculated. “From the midthirties to the midforties.”
“We were in Palestine from 1868 to 1874.”
“I didn’t go over until 1880,” he told her. “Ten years ago.”
She nodded, her expression pensive. “I remember our boat stopping in Alexandria. It seemed such a busy place filled with so many turbaned people. I was only a young girl, so it’s a jumbled memory.”
“I spent a few years as a boy in Cairo in the…let’s see…early sixties. When I went back out this time around, I was much older, a full-grown man of thirty.” He looked down at the remains of the sandwich in his hand. “Set on leaving England and never looking back.” He looked up, embarrassed at the words that had slipped out, probably as a result of having gone back in time since he’d entered his uncle’s study.
She didn’t seem perturbed by his reply. Instead her gaze appeared to radiate empathy, as if she knew exactly how one sometimes cannot bear memories of a place.
He set down his sandwich and brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “Egypt was just the challenge I needed at the time. I sought action and adventure.”
“Did you find it?”
He squeezed the lemon into his tea. “I found my fair share.”
She took a few more steps around the boxes. “Your uncle seems to have been a man of adventure, as well.”
“Yes, his journals make for some interesting reading. I wish I had the time to delve into them more fully.” He set his cup down, frustrated once again as he thought of the task ahead of him. “My aunt wants me to catalog all these artifacts.”
She turned her attention back to him. “My goodness. Can you do it all yourself?”
“Hardly. But she insists no strangers are to come to the house.”
“I understand,” she said. “Her nerves.”
“Tell me, just how badly off is she?”
She folded her hands in front of her. “She is under regular medical care.”
“Is she—” how could he phrase it politely? “—as serious as, well, you saw her the other day?”
“It’s hard to say. I’ve been here scarcely a year.” She pressed her lips together as if debating whether to say more. “She dismissed her previous companion, I’m told,” she went on more slowly, “and the one before that.” She gave him a small smile. “So far, I seem to have suited her, but I’m new yet.”
He remembered how particular his aunt could be. It was unfair to ask Miss Norton to make any judgments about his aunt. She was only an employee, after all, her position at the mercy of Aunt Millicent’s whims. “I apologize for my questions. I realize you probably don’t think it your place to form any opinions.”
“I may form opinions, but as to voicing them…” She shrugged and turned away from him to study something in one of the boxes.
“All right, fair enough.”
She straightened. “I had better leave you to your lunch—and work.”
“Thank you for the refreshment. It was just what I needed.”
“I’m glad I could be of help.” She paused a moment. “I—I wanted to thank you for…taking care of my cab fare the other day. It was most generous of you.”
He waved away her thanks, having already forgotten about it. “It was the least I could do for keeping you so long over tea.” He had no idea how much paid companions earned, but he imagined it wasn’t much. He could hardly conceive of a life at the beck and call of another. He was used to the independence of working far away from civilization and its strictures. Occasional loneliness was the main drawback, and he’d learned to deal with that.
Miss Norton nodded, her cheeks bright pink, making her look more strikingly than ever like her famous portrait counterpart. What was such an obviously bright, not unattractive, young woman doing in such a position?
He looked away, having steeled himself over the years not to notice any woman’s charms. There’d only been one woman in his life.
“I thank you, all the same, for your thoughtfulness. It was most kind of you.”
Uncomfortable with her gratitude, Reid cleared his throat and picked up his teacup once again.
“Well, let me or any of the servants know if you need anything while you’re here.”
He frowned at the way she lumped herself with the servants. She was too intelligent and refined. Probably, as most paid companions, a gentlewoman down on her luck, reduced to the semiservant position. He remembered that she said her father was a curate. She was probably helping to support her elderly parents.
She had reached the door when he had a thought. Just before she disappeared through the doorway, he said, “You wouldn’t be interested in helping me catalog some of this stuff, would you?”
As soon as he uttered the words, he already regretted them. He usually considered things carefully before making a decision.
What did this young woman know about ancient artifacts? He didn’t need someone who would require careful supervision. It would be difficult enough sifting through his uncle’s notes, trying to match them to the heap of antiquities.
As Reid watched the surprise in her eyes turn to excitement, something tugged at him. A sense of compassion stirred within him as he thought how narrow her life within these walls must be.
She had lived in the Middle East and had some knowledge of the ancient world. More importantly, she knew how to follow instructions and how to be silent, two qualities he valued highly in any assistant.
“Do you think I could be of help?”
He nodded slowly. It just might be the perfect solution. His aunt couldn’t object to her as a stranger, and she was right here, available any time he chose to come by.