The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (61 page)

Ally shrugged. “It suits my needs.”

“Now, tell me what you’ve been up to. Florence and Jane were just commenting last night at the theater that we hadn’t seen you in ages. We thought maybe you’d cut out early for Newport.”

“No, not yet. Mother’s making arrangements to head down a week from Monday.”

“Really? That’s when we’re going, too. It’s going to be a riot this summer. I’ve already been invited to three balls and several yachting parties. Not to mention Mamie Stuyvesant-Fish is giving a garden party that will be the talk of the season, I’m sure. Everyone will be there: the Cuttings, the Frelinghuysens, the Drexels, the Dyers, the Burdens, just everyone. You did get an invitation, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure Mother did.”

Charity prattled on, oblivious to Ally’s distraction and disinterest in the social calendar. “Did you hear the latest? Priscilla Davenport eloped. With a footman! Can you imagine? Her mother has taken to her sickbed and refuses to see anyone. Her father is said to be in a towering rage and has disinherited her. Neither of them had the slightest idea she was romantically involved with a servant. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be funny. The Davenports will be ruined socially. I hear they might even leave New York. I can’t believe Priscilla was so selfish.”

“Why selfish? If she loved this man—”

“Don’t be so silly. It’s one thing to have a little fling with someone not of your social class, but to elope? If she had thought for a second how her actions would affect her family, she never would’ve done it. I’m sure I can’t think what my parents would do, or yours either, if we were to behave so recklessly. Can you imagine the earthquake if Alicia Davidson, heiress to the Davidson Department Store fortune, ran off with a store clerk or a stable hand? We have responsibilities to our families and to our social peers. What’s the point of being a part of the Four Hundred if we just let anyone in?”

“I suppose.” Ally’s heart was breaking. Her mother would never recover if she chose Max over someone from society, and yet, Max was all her heart wanted.

Max felt as if a khamsin wind had just whistled through his life, sucking everything dry and blowing all the bits that weren’t anchored down up into the sky. His insides felt scoured out, as if a sandstorm raged within.

He withdrew, keeping the marble pillar between himself and Ally, sorry he’d ever tried to surprise her.

Ally. Alicia Davidson. An heiress.

One of the Four Hundred.

Why hadn’t she told him? Why make him think she was just an art student?

Shame prickled his chest. Was she toying with him? Slumming? Amusing herself before she left the city for the elite beachfronts of Newport?

His hands fisted, and he had a strong desire to punch something. How had he let himself be duped? All her supposed interest in Egyptology, in travel and history and
him.
What a fool he was.

Only last night he’d decided to turn down the museum board’s offer to curate the traveling exhibit and brave asking for her hand, to make plans for next year’s expedition that included taking her to Egypt as his bride. At least he’d been spared that humiliation.

He returned to his office and closed the door, shoving aside an empty crate and a box of books to get to his chair. Plopping down, he put his head in his hands.

A rueful, harsh laugh worked its way up his throat. What a rube. This is what he got for deviating from his carefully laid plans, for letting his head be turned by a pretty face.

Scrubbing his hands down his face, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes lighting on the mock-up for the exhibit book. He dragged it toward himself and opened the pasteboard cover. The first image was the drawing Ally had created of the canopic coffins. Amazing detail, brilliant color. He could almost feel the smooth gold and tiny ridges of jewels and precious stones. He could almost smell Ally’s perfume as she bent her head over a drawing, almost hear her laugh as he made some silly joke.

Slapping the book closed, he shoved it away.

Ally checked her watch. Was Max finished with his meeting yet? How soon could she politely separate herself from Charity and go find him?

Charity began gathering her things. “I should go. I’ve been waiting for my father’s cousin. He’s on some kind of board here. Actually, I asked him to meet me here, hoping he’d wangle an introduction to that dreamy archaeologist, James Kirkland. He spoke at the academy a couple of weeks ago, and all the girls were just swooning. Say, since you’re here all the time, you must have met him.”

“James Kirkland?”

“Yes, silly. He won the Bellows Prize, discovered that Egyptian princess’s tomb. Imagine, rich, handsome, famous, and intelligent, all in one package.”

“Uncle Gus mentioned him the other day, but I haven’t met him. I suppose I will at the gala opening of the exhibit this weekend.” And see Max. Perhaps she could introduce Max to her father. Surely Father, as a self-made man, wouldn’t frown on Max’s origins or prospects like Mother would.

“I heard Mr. Bellows call him Max. Isn’t that cute? The program said his name was James Maxwell Kirkland, Ph.D. But Max is so much more chummy, don’t you think?”

“What?” Ally’s musings came to an abrupt halt.

“I said I like Max better than Dr. Kirkland, or even James, don’t you?”

The gallery whirled like snow in a globe. Max was Dr. James Kirkland?

Shock gave way to elation. If he had money and social standing, her mother couldn’t cavil at him. And Uncle Gus knew him and liked him.

“Alicia, are you all right?”

Ally grabbed Charity by the arms. “I’m more than all right. I have to go. I’ll see you at the gala. Thank you so much. You’ve changed everything.”

As she hurried away, Charity’s voice echoed in the big room. “Thanks for what?”

A tap on his door.

“Who is it?”

His work crew foreman stuck his head in. “Sir, Miss Ally is looking for you. She’s in the chariot gallery. You want me to send her back here?”

He wasn’t ready to see her. Didn’t know if he’d ever be ready.

“I’m working. Tell her I’m too busy today.” He grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and pretended to be reading it as if it held the secret location of another tomb.

“Sir?”

“You heard me. I’m busy. I don’t have time for socializing today.”

The door closed, and the footsteps receded.

Chapter 6

I
t was the same for the rest of the week. Every time Ally went to the museum, Max was too busy to see her. On Sunday the museum was closed, and she moped about the house, swinging from elation to frustration at the delay in seeing him. On Monday when he wasn’t available, she left him a note, but he didn’t reply. On Tuesday, her way into the exhibit was barred.

“I’m sorry, miss.” The foreman frowned and wouldn’t meet her eyes, just apologized and shrugged.

Bewildered, she turned away. What had happened? He had to be busy. The exhibit opening was almost upon them. But he’d never been too busy to see her before.

“Miss?” The foreman twisted his hat in his hands.

“Yes?” She couldn’t keep the hope out of her voice.

“Uh…” He tugged at his collar. “The boss says we’re not to let anyone into the galleries until opening night now. He said to make sure we told you that. He doesn’t want to be bothered this close to the exhibit opening.”

She flinched. He was banning her from behind the scenes? What had she done? What had changed?

“I’m awful sorry, miss.”

Biting her lip, she nodded, her eyes stinging. “I won’t bother him again.”

She dragged herself home and up to her studio. Flinging herself on the chaise, she studied the skylight. Had she imagined everything? Had she assumed too much? Had she somehow disappointed him or put him off?

The last painting rested on her easel, the final image she’d created to celebrate the gala and the finding of the tomb. Princess Meryet-Kai and her husband sat on their thrones, holding hands. The princess wore a crown of lotus blossoms, and her pleated white linen dress fanned out. Her husband smiled at her, looking into her eyes. Ally swiped away a tear. Their happiness had ended not long after their marriage.

And hers had ended before it had even begun.

The morning of the gala, Ally boxed up the artwork and had one of the footmen deliver it to the museum. Whatever had happened to make Max turn away from her, she still wanted him to have the paintings.

All day her mother oversaw packing and planning and kept Ally close to her side, answering invitations to parties in Newport, creating lists of instructions for the servants in both houses, seeing to last-minute details. If she noticed anything different about Ally, she didn’t mention it.

But Father noticed. Midafternoon he drew Ally into his office.

“What’s going on with you? You look like a lost kitten. Is it this business with your mother and the suitors?”

Ally closed her eyes, resting her head on the antimacassar. “No.”

“Then what is it?” He tamped tobacco into his pipe. “Not looking forward to this evening? You’ve had stars in your eyes every time you talk about this museum gala, and now you’re dragging around here like someone stole your happiness.”

Another sigh worked its way out. “I’m all right. It’s just that something I wanted very badly isn’t going to happen.”

“Cheer up, Ally. Things might not be so bleak. Newport won’t be so bad, will it?”

“No, Father. I’d better go finish helping Mother.” She pushed herself up from the chair.

“Wait a minute.”

She stopped, halfway to the door.

“Does your gloominess have to do with this hypothetical suitor you mentioned a few weeks ago?” He raised one eyebrow at her as he struck a match.

A flutter of panic hit her middle. “Who?”

“Don’t play games, Ally. You’ve fallen hard for someone. For the last month you’ve walked around here like you have candles behind your eyes. But sometime this last week, somebody snuffed the light. What happened?”

He was altogether too perceptive. She laced her fingers. “I fell in love with someone.”

“And he doesn’t feel the same?”

“I thought he did. I thought we were meant to be together.” Her voice wavered. “I thought my biggest obstacle was going to be how to convince Mother that he was suitable, but in the end, I worried over nothing. I must’ve imagined he had feelings for me.”