Hearts In The Highlands. Ruth Morren Axtell
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