Hearts In The Highlands. Ruth Axtell Morren

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 coachman his fare.

      “Oh, that’s all taken care of, ma’am.”

      She blinked. “What do you mean?”

      “The gentleman what hailed the cab for you. He took care o’ your fare.” He smiled. “And a generous tip, as well, to get you here quickly.”

      She stepped back on the sidewalk, astonishment leaving her speechless.

      He tipped his hat to her. “Good day t’ye.” With a snap of the reins, he was off.

      Maddie looked after him a moment. She had underestimated Mr. Gallagher’s attention to detail…as well as his kindness. She blushed, as it occurred to her that it only meant he understood the reduced circumstances of a paid companion.

      Remembering her duties, she turned about and headed up the walk to the front door. She’d have to thank Mr. Gallagher the next time she saw him.

      If there was a next time. Then she remembered his words, At the next lecture. All at once her steps grew lighter as she hurried up the steps.

      Chapter Three

      A few mornings later, Reid sat in his great-aunt’s parlor for a second visit, this time in answer to a note from her. He’d been intrigued by her words that it was “about an important matter.”

      Aunt Millicent sat alone in her parlor, enthroned in her high-backed armchair. Despite her diminutive size, she appeared regal in her dark brocaded gown with several gold chains down the front.

      He wondered briefly where her companion was and remembered the pleasant time they’d had over tea. The young lady had been a ready and willing listener, though he’d certainly never meant to go into such detail about his work.

      “Thank you, my dear, for coming so quickly.” Reid leaned down to kiss his aunt’s cheek, which was soft and wrinkled but still smelled of the lavender water she’d used as long as he could remember.

      “I was happy to oblige.” He took a seat across from her. “Where’s Lilah?” he asked, noting also the absence of the terrier.

      “Miss Norton took her out for her morning walk.”

      He glanced toward the heavily curtained window. “It’s a bit drizzly for a walk.”

      “Oh, Lilah’s walks are very short. Miss Norton will protect her with an ample umbrella.”

      He tried to picture the willowy Miss Norton scurrying after the tiny dog, a large black umbrella over them both. He turned his attention back to his aunt. “And how are you on this damp morning?”

      She made a face. “Not well, I’m afraid.”

      He leaned forward, clasping his hands loosely between his knees. “What is it?”

      She patted her chest. “Oh, the usual, dear boy. My heart. Some days I feel I can hardly breathe.”

      “I’m sorry. Is there nothing they can do for you?”

      “I think I’ve had every pill and potion invented, but to no avail. Dr. Aldwin says I must have total rest, but you know it’s impossible not to worry about things. I find myself lying in bed at night just thinking of you off in foreign parts, and Vera with her children. Little Harry, you know, is going away to school this autumn.” She shook her head. “I do hope they choose the right school for him.”

      Reid hid his smile. As long as he could remember his aunt had been a worrier. “Well, I’m glad you sent me a note. I would have come by soon at any rate.”

      “I hope I didn’t disturb you at your duties, but I really felt I had to see you after the other day.”

      “Tell me what I can do for you.”

      “I’ve been thinking about what we discussed.”

      He tried to remember what they’d talked about. He hoped she wasn’t still dwelling on the attack on their camp.

      “It’s about your Uncle George’s collection.”

      Reid was immediately interested. “Yes, I was thinking about it, too, since my visit. He must have some highly valuable pieces in it, from an archaeological standpoint.”

      “I’m sure everything in it is of the utmost value.”

      He hid another smile, remembering how protective his aunt was of Uncle George’s reputation. “Yes, perhaps so.”

      “I would like to ensure that it is well taken care of at my demise.”

      He rubbed his hands over his trouser legs, uncomfortable with her behaving as if she was at death’s door each time he visited. “Yes…I suppose it would be good to make some provision if…in the unlikely event…” He coughed, uncertain how to proceed.

      “I’m glad you understand. Your Uncle George would have wanted the collection to be used for the advancement of science. He told me many times he wished to leave it to some museum or university, but he passed on before he could act upon his deepest desire, and has left me to dispose of his collection as I see fit.”

      “I see. Do you have anything in mind?”

      “I’m much too ignorant of all he has to make such an important decision, which is why I wanted to consult with you.” She folded her hands in her lap as if in preparation of an announcement.

      “I’d be happy to advise you in any way I can.”

      “Your Uncle George was very fond of you. Alas, we never had any children of our own, so you were like a son to him.” She smiled in recollection. “You’ll never know how happy it made him when you decided to pursue his hobby.”

      “We spoke often of our mutual love for Egypt and its history.” Reid had many pleasant memories of his uncle.

      “Of course he could never pursue it full-time, what with his work in the consulate.” She fingered the long chains around her neck. “Those were the days. So many parties, so much delicate negotiating with the government officials, the native sultans…” She sighed. “Once we returned to England, of course, his work with the Foreign Office again kept him so occupied, all he could do was put away most of his collection, in the hopes that someday he’d have the time to catalog it properly.”

      Reid nodded, remembering his many conversations with Uncle George on this very subject. But then his uncle had died suddenly in his early sixties, and Reid had gone abroad, so he’d never really bothered to think about the collection again.

      “I’ve come to a decision.” Reid waited, wondering what she was going to say. “I want you to take charge of organizing the collection and together we can then decide where to donate it. I was thinking of the University College.”

      Reid whistled softly. Although he’d never seen the entire collection, from what he remembered, this would be a sizable donation to the college.

      “Of course, because it’s such a large bequest, I want to make some stipulations.”

      “That is perfectly reasonable.”

      “Yes, I thought so. Firstly, I want you to have sole charge of it, and any decisions that are made by the institution have to be approved by you.”

      He sat still. “I don’t know what to say.”