The Only Gold (11 page)

She folded her arms over her knees and regarded him gravely. “If he has charmed Monsieur Grandborough, you will do the same. If the ladies and gentlemen of the bank are in love with him, you will win them as cleverly—”

“I am neither flirt nor flatterer, Liliane.”

“Strategy, my dear. You can be charming, though you do not know it.”

“But it’s not really a proper way to do business, is it? Hard work should suffice.”

“Monsieur Hylliard, he is idle?”

“I take your point. But he has the advantage. I’m afraid the directors may find his plans acceptable. If they do, there’s no chance for me.”

“They have such faith in him? In just three days?”

“I will know tomorrow.”

“And if they do?”

It hurt to think about. “I don’t know. It may be time to find another place.”

“Oh, no—” A rap at the door interrupted, and Liliane jumped up from the ottoman to drop gracefully onto Jonah’s lap. “
Entrez vous!
”

“Liliane, what are you doing?” Even as he asked, Jonah knew—but it was too late. Her arms came around his shoulders as the door swung open and Miss Kitchner stepped in, followed closely by Edith and Winnie. At the sight before her, Miss Kitchner went a violent shade of red, sputtered for an instant, and turned so sharply, she bumped into Edith.

“Respectable house,” she said. “Indeed!” She pushed past them, and a moment later they heard her boots hitting the stairs. Edith’s glittering gaze narrowed on Liliane.

“Mrs. Hawes—”

“I cannot thank Jonah for repairing my sash?” Liliane kissed him on the cheek. “
Merci, mon chaton.
” She got up, smoothed her skirts, and smiled at the Muncy sisters. “Supper?”

Jonah hardly heard the argument that followed. He escaped to his own room, and lying in the relative quiet, wondered if he would sleep at all, worrying over tomorrow. Supper was a distraction, with the rather heated discussion on the suitability of new boarders and the temerity of old. Jonah did not take part, but wrestled with the notion of visiting Bennet Grandborough, himself—should the board approve Reid’s changes.

Past midnight he lay awake, until sleep kept his thoughts from trudging in further circles.

It was
another struggle to arrive at work on time, but he did it with minutes to spare. He saw no sign of Reid and made no effort to seek him out. Heading for his own office, he passed Helen coming from the corridor with her ledger cradled in her arms. She smiled timidly at him, and he remembered Liliane’s counsel.

“Miss MacDonald?”

She turned back. “Yes, sir?”

Jonah stared into her expectant gaze and wondered if he wasn’t being too forward. “Helen. Yes. I only wanted to inquire… I hope your evening was… pleasant.”

Helen’s lips parted, she blinked, and with apparent effort smiled again. “Yes, sir. A quiet evening. At home with my parents.”

“I see. Your parents are well?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Good. All right. Well, I won’t keep you from your work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He saw the bewildered look Helen exchanged with Margaret as she passed Margaret’s desk. The expression remained in Margaret’s eyes as she looked his way. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes, perfectly.”

She seemed unconvinced, but her lips lifted as she bent her head over her work. “Mr. Hylliard wishes to see you in his office.”

“Did he say—”

She glanced up. “Nothing about the meeting.”

“But did he seem—”

“He seemed quite himself.”

“Really?” Jonah’s heart sank. “That must mean—”

“Jonah.” She smiled. “You will tell us, I hope.”

He hastily nodded, then headed for the lion’s den without further ado. The board may have accepted some of Reid’s suggestions as a show of faith. But to offer a complete nod of approval—and without a word from anyone else in the bank—was reckless. Reid did not need a freer hand than they’d already given him.

Jonah hesitated outside the cashier’s office, unable to brace himself for the worst. He couldn’t bear the thought of resigning. He had vowed not to let Reid chase him away. But this was intolerable, and he had no means to fight it.

Sick with dread, he knocked once and waited. The voice that bid him enter was distracted, distant. Reid, at the desk, laid aside a small, leather-bound volume and rose, his pensive expression yielding to an impertinent gleam. “I thought you’d like to know the board was amenable to everything I put before them.”

Jonah
had expected it, but to have it confirmed was a blow almost physical in its force and finality. “They’ve given you leave to run roughshod over us, then.”

“You might also want to know that I told them some of the ideas were yours.”

“To elicit my cooperation? Or just make it difficult for me to raise any more objections.”

Reid hung his head forward, eyes briefly closing. His soft laugh was closer to a sigh. “You are one stubborn son of a—”

“Not in the bank, please. I know you would like to have everyone in your palm, Mr. Hylliard. I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for almost everyone. Now if I may get back to work—”

“One minute.” That smile again, as if he weren’t really so troubled by Jonah’s refusal to be swept up in the spell capturing everyone else. “Since yesterday’s dinner with Simon went so well, I’ve decided to dine with everyone on the staff over the next couple of weeks, to get to know them better.”

“Margaret and Helen will not accept—”

“They already have. In fact, everyone has.” His smile deepened. “Almost everyone.”

“Yes, I think you and I have had our dinner engagement.” Jonah started to go, only to be stayed by a hand on his arm.

“After we close Saturday, I’m taking everyone to supper. I’d like you to join us.”

Jonah withdrew from his grasp. “I shall have to read about it in the society journals. I have other plans.”

If there was a sheen of suspicion in Reid’s eyes, mild amusement tempered it. “Should your plans change, the invitation stands.”

The man was tenacious.
But Jonah wanted nothing to do with him beyond what was required within the four walls of the bank.

Everyone else appeared enchanted with the invitation to supper, and by Saturday, Jonah had grown tired of the staff’s incessant chatter over it. He might concede it was rare enough that bank officers dined with staff; still, one would think they’d never before had supper out.

As the hour approached, Margaret came in to bid him goodnight. “You’re quite sure you wouldn’t like to join us? I think Mr. Hylliard would be pleased.”

Jonah bit back a remark about the level of his interest in pleasing Mr. Hylliard. “Thank you, Margaret. I’m afraid I can’t.”

She lingered in the doorway. “The changes Mr. Hylliard has made….” She hesitated, treading carefully, Jonah sensed. “Well… are they really so terrible? I think, on the whole, they’ll prove beneficial. You may come to see it, my dear, if you’ll just think on it a little.”

Jonah gave up on the books and stood, assuming a cheer he didn’t feel. “One may become accustomed to anything, even the innovations of overzealous bank officers. You may find it more productive to worry over enduring Mr. Hylliard’s idea of first-class dining.”

Margaret tucked her scarf closer to her coat collar. “I haven’t dined at Delmonico’s in a number of years, but I hear it’s still quite good.” She was smiling as she left.

Well, Reid wasn’t stingy—even if he’d chosen Delmonico’s solely as another means of securing everyone’s devotion. Jonah returned the books to the vault himself, as Mr. Satterfield had gone with the rest. Tired and dispirited, he headed home, to find his fellow residents all away. Edith and Winnie spent Saturday evenings with their quilting circle, leaving hungry boarders to their own devices. That meant dining out or settling for whatever might be left in the cupboard. Jonah settled, taking a plate of bread, preserves, and cold ham to the table. The house was so quiet, he could hear the clatter of hooves in the street and the occasional chatter as neighbors passed.

He would not regret the decision to turn down Reid’s invitation. He refused to. Even if Margaret was right.

On the face of things, some of Reid’s notions might be workable, taken individually and incorporated just so. But it was more than the rockslide of changes that bothered Jonah. It was all too quick, too easy for the man. He had come into the bank with apparently unshakable confidence and had taken the place over in less than a week. And not a soul seemed to think twice about trusting him, not Mr. Naughton, not the irascible Mrs. Chickering—not even Bennet Grandborough himself. Reid had merely to suggest an idea and it was engraved in stone, while practices that had worked for years were swept away as dust. And all because he had enjoyed some success at one or two banks in the past.

Jonah had to wonder what those other assistant cashiers had thought of Reid. He had half a mind to hunt them up and ask them. But whatever they may have thought, they had surely spoken well of Reid, or Mr. Grandborough wouldn’t have hired him.

Jonah laid down his knife and gazed across at the forlorn reflection in the silver platter on the sideboard. Perhaps the whole matter was more simply explained than he cared to acknowledge. Reid was personable. He was also experienced, competent, and clever. If he was capricious, overbearing, and ill-mannered, that seemed to bother no one but Jonah. And one thing he certainly had that Jonah did not—Mr. Grandborough’s favor.

He also had the board’s support, which left Jonah with no recourse but to try to weather the turn of events without the constant clashes that inspired Reid to new mischief. A challenge, when the man seemed to revel in opportunities to bedevil him. Jonah dreaded Monday and the prospect of a self-satisfied Reid stalking about the bank with a doting staff at his heels.

It so haunted him, he sat through the next morning’s sermon without hearing a word. He hardly tasted Edith’s Sunday roast or made any sense of the conversations in the parlor afterward. Sleep proved as elusive, and he woke with a trepidation that neither the bright, clear day nor a lingering drowsiness could dispel.

He arrived
early to find the staff at work on the exchanges while Reid lounged at Margaret’s desk, flaunting a blue and gold striped tie with insufferable complacency.