Hearts In The Highlands. Ruth Morren Axtell

Hearts In The Highlands - Ruth Morren Axtell


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up. My father was a diplomat. When I came back to England to school, my great-uncle—Lady Haversham’s husband—took up where my life abroad had left off.”

      He was interrupted by the waiter bringing them their tea. Maddie absorbed what he’d told her, watching him as he spoke to the waiter. Although he addressed the man casually, seemingly as at ease in this quaint tearoom as in the great lecture hall, she continued to sense a man outside his natural element. Today he was as well dressed as he had been at his aunt’s, in a starched white shirt, finely patterned silk tie and sack coat of dark broadcloth, yet she couldn’t help picturing him in more rugged garb, such as he must wear in the desert.

      As she stirred sugar into her tea, Maddie chanced a glance at her own navy-blue dress. It was the same one she’d worn the day he’d come to visit his aunt. Well, that wasn’t surprising, being one of only three gowns she owned. It was certainly appropriate for a paid companion, but not up to standards to be seen in a gentleman’s company. She must look like a nursemaid or governess beside him. What would the waiter or the patrons sitting around them think of such a handsome man escorting such a dowdy female?

      The waiter moved away from their table and Mr. Gallagher turned his attention back to her. “I really wanted to thank you today for how you are taking care of Aunt Millicent. You seem to have a way with her.”

      “You have nothing to thank me for. I’m just her companion. She has a whole legion of servants to take care of her. As well as a fine physician,” she added, thinking of how often Dr. Aldwin was summoned.

      “She seems to rely on you, however.”

      Maddie removed the spoon from her cup and placed it on the saucer, uncomfortable with the compliment. “I’m only doing my job.”

      “How long have you been a…companion?” He hesitated over the word, as if unaccustomed to the term.

      “Since I left home.”

      “When was that?”

      “When I was eighteen.” In the silence that followed she wondered if he was calculating how old she must be. On the cusp of turning thirty, she could have told him.

      He only nodded, and again, she had that sense that he was evaluating her words, taking nothing at face value. He was probably cataloging her as a spinster securely on the shelf.

      She shook aside the depressing thought and imagined instead that it was probably a painstaking attention to detail that made him a good archaeologist. She was still amazed he had remembered her name—or her, for that matter. He’d hardly glanced at her during the time he was at his aunt’s for tea.

      “How long have you been involved in archaeology?” she asked, returning to the topic she was really interested in.

      Humor tugged at his lips, half-hidden by his mustache. “Oh, forever.”

      She smiled at his evident pleasure in the topic. “You said Lady Haversham’s late husband was engaged in the field?”

      “Yes. Good old Uncle George. It was he who gave me my love of archaeology.”

      She hadn’t been with Lady Haversham long enough to know too much about her employer’s late husband, although she knew he had often gone abroad. “Was he an archaeologist?”

      “They didn’t have them back then. He was more an adventurer and explorer. When he came to Egypt, he fell under the spell of the pyramids. He began to bring home anything he could find. It was all quite a free-for-all back then—any tourist or traveler taking what he could find, whatever the looters hadn’t gotten over the previous centuries.” His tone deepened to disgust.

      Maddie rested her chin on her palm, glad to be taken away from her present world to one so close to that of her girlhood.

      “By the time I came back to England, my father had been posted somewhere else. So, I began to spend my summers with Uncle George and Aunt Millicent. He was living in London by then. He’d show me parts of his collection. He had some incredible things—from Greek amphorae to Roman headdresses, but his real love was Egyptian artifacts. He had pottery, jewelry, bits of sculpture.” He sighed. “I don’t think I ever saw the whole thing. I wonder where it all is now.”

      “I haven’t been with your aunt for very long. I know she has many things stored away. She often talks of her travels when she was younger. She was very excited when she knew you were coming home.”

      He looked sidelong through the window at the street. “I haven’t considered Britain my home in many years.”

      Maddie bit her lip, afraid she’d said something wrong. But he turned back to her and began telling her about some of the digs he’d been involved in. Once again she was transported to another time and place, her present dreary existence swallowed up by that other world.

      Suddenly a clock tower down the street struck the hour. She sat up and pulled out her watch. It was half-past twelve! “Oh, I really must get back. Thank you so much for the tea.” She began to rise.

      “Steady there.” He snapped open his own watch. “You have plenty of time to get back if Aunt Millicent still dines at one. Wait, and I’ll get you a cab.”

      Maddie sat back down, but felt the tension grow in her. She had wanted to avoid having to take the omnibus back. What would a hansom cost? Oh, dear, it couldn’t be helped now. She had no time to cover the distance by walking.

      Mr. Gallagher signaled the waiter and settled the bill. Maddie had to restrain herself from drumming her fingers on the tabletop. She gathered her bag and gloves.

      Finally, he stood and she joined him immediately. “I can catch an omnibus a few blocks from here.”

      “Nonsense. You can catch a hansom right out front and it will be a lot quicker.”

      She bit her lip and said no more, thinking again how much the fare would cost. After they’d collected her coat and umbrella, they stood on the curb.

      It didn’t take Mr. Gallagher long to hail a carriage. When it arrived, she suddenly realized that their morning together was over. It seemed scarcely to have begun. She couldn’t remember a time in her recent memory when she’d had such an enjoyable outing. Disappointment stabbed her.

      “I—thank you again,” she said, stumbling over the words in her effort to express her gratitude.

      He held the door open for her. “The pleasure was mine. I really wanted to do something for all your kindness to my aunt.”

      Maddie held her smile in place, unable to help feeling just a bit disappointed that it hadn’t been more for him than an act of kindness for an employee of his relative. It was thoughtful of him, all the same. Not many family members would take any consideration of a paid companion.

      She placed her hand in his to bid farewell, and again she felt his strength and protection—which left her a little bereft when their hands separated.

      She settled in the small space of the cab and placed her belongings at her side. Lastly, she took one more look out the window and gave a wave when she saw him still standing on the curb. He was a tall, lean man, his appearance that of a rugged adventurer and explorer, as he’d described his uncle, charmingly out of place on the London sidewalk.

      He returned her wave with a small salute of his own, and she had another mental image of him in the desert, a camel as his mode of transportation, a host of Bedouins his companions.

      As the carriage made its way from Bloomsbury across town to Belgravia, Maddie took out her purse and got her fare ready. She sighed, knowing she’d have to make up for the money in another quarter. She shook her head. There weren’t many areas where she could cut back more than she already was. She couldn’t not buy stamps for her weekly letters to her parents or brothers.

      She was back at Lady Haversham’s much more quickly than she was used to. A glance at her watch told her she still had time to wash up and tidy her hair.

      When she descended the cab, she handed the


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