Hearts In The Highlands. Ruth Axtell Morren

Читать онлайн.
Название Hearts In The Highlands
Автор произведения Ruth Axtell Morren
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия Mills & Boon Historical
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408937969



Скачать книгу

I don’t think she’d have a problem with someone in her employ lending a hand a couple of hours a few days a week.”

      “I’d certainly be willing to do anything to help.” Her gaze roamed over the boxes around her. Then she drew her two eyebrows together. “I don’t know if she will allow me to assist you, however.”

      “If you’d rather not, just say the word. It’s no problem.”

      “Oh, no, it’s not that at all. I think it would be fascinating work. It’s just…well, perhaps you’d better broach the subject with your aunt.”

      He nodded. “If you’re concerned about Aunt Millicent objecting, don’t. I’ll handle that aspect of it.” If his aunt could force him to remain in Britain for a few months, she’d have to agree to some of his conditions, as well.

      “I…” She hesitated, and he wondered again if she was having second thoughts about undertaking the work. “I—what I mean is…don’t be discouraged if your aunt says no.” She pressed her fine lips together and looked down, as if hesitant to say more.

      He breathed a sigh of relief that that was her only qualm. “I’ve known her since I was a boy and learned how to get my way. Being a favorite nephew does have its advantages upon occasion.”

      A smile tugged at her lips, and he was heartened. She really had a most sympathetic face. There was something radiant in it when she smiled.

      He rubbed his hands together, his eagerness to begin the task starting to grow. “Very well, then. I’ll let you know when you’re to start.”

      Her eyes lighted up and he felt a tingle of warmth steal into his heart, as if he’d given a child something delightful on her birthday. It occurred to him there wasn’t much brightness in her life. If he could give her a little bit, then maybe his time in England would not be altogether wasted.

      Chapter Four

      Maddie’s gaze went from the small limestone fragment on her left to the battered notebook on the table in front of her. She compared the description:

      Profile of king? Young prince? Standing on left. Sun God Ra with bird’s head on right. Offering of bull, chickens. Seated monkey. Found at KV 2.

      If this artifact matched the description in Sir Haversham’s notebook, then it meant that everything in the box may have been found at the same location.

      Maddie blew away the strands of hair tickling her forehead, sensing the excitement in her begin to grow. She scanned the fragments of pottery laid out on the long table before her. The last fortnight had involved painstaking work, first, unpacking a portion of the boxes and trunks and piling the remainder against one wall of the library. Then began the detective phase of deciphering the spidery handwriting in the stack of notebooks and various loose sheets of paper and matching descriptions to contents of boxes.

      She glanced at Mr. Gallagher bent over a black stele covered in hieroglyphics. Her hunch that his attention to detail made for a good Egyptologist had been confirmed for her over the time they’d been working together. He had been uncompromising in his process of carefully unpacking each box and laying out the contents in a separate area, labeling what could be readily identified.

      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