The Only Gold (18 page)

Winnie blinked. “Oh.” She looked earnestly at Jonah. “Is everything quite all right?”

“Mr. Hylliard was seeing me home,” Jonah said. “I misplaced my glasses—”

“Sat on them, more likely,” Reid said with a laugh. “I’m sorry for interrupting your supper, Miss Muncy. I just wanted to be sure Mr. Woolner found his way home without being accosted by any disreputable creatures along the way.”

Winnie’s eyes went wide. “In this neighborhood?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah caught the sly glint in Reid’s, and he sent a trace of reproof back in his own genial smile. “I believe Mr. Hylliard meant William Street and thereabouts.”

Winnie looked relieved. “Oh, of course. We are so grateful to you, Mr. Hylliard. Won’t you stay to supper?”

Reid hesitated only an instant. “Thank you, but I believe I’d better go or I may find myself locked out for the night.”

Jonah realized what Reid had seen in his face when he’d interrupted Winnie’s invitation. True, he hadn’t wanted Reid to stay, but the thought of Reid sitting out the evening in that miserable rooming house bothered him. “Mr. Hylliard….” He paused as Reid, at the door, turned to him. “Please stay to supper. Won’t you?”

The surprised lift to Reid’s brows did not last long enough for Winnie to see it. He was smiling as he turned to her. “I’d like that.” His glance shifted to meet Jonah’s, and the smile didn’t temper a most direct and questioning look.

Wondering if the impulsive offer had been a good idea, Jonah excused himself to run upstairs for his spare glasses. He hurried back down and at the bottom step stood breathless, listening as Winnie finished the introductions and set an additional place. Jonah came into the dining room, conscious of everyone’s eyes on him—all sympathetic, but for Liliane, whose face was agleam with mischief. Reid, too, looked amused as Jonah sat across from him. “I’m surprised you don’t keep a second pair with you.” His lips twitched. “Being a gentleman of such meticulous habits, I mean.”

“He’s that, certainly,” Cyrus said. “A trait to be valued in a banker, one would think.”

Fenton and Kemble echoed him energetically, and even Edith sniffed in indignation. “Jonah is conscientious and reliable. Everything one would want in a boarder, I’m sure. Never mind a banker.”

“Completely trustworthy,” Winnie said, and pressed her napkin to her mouth, as if she were shaken anyone might think otherwise.

“I trust him.” Bertram, smiling, glanced at Liliane, who laughed.

“Poor Monsieur Hylliard. It is an innocent remark, and we have made a sauce of it, yes?”

Reid laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I already think highly of Mr. Woolner. Whether or not he’s convinced of it.”

Jonah, in the midst of wondering if Reid wasn’t more than just a little impressed that everyone had so swiftly jumped to his defense, found himself speechless at that assertion. True to form, Reid won over the household as easily as he’d won over everyone at work. His manners and conversation were impeccable, even if the look in his eyes each time he glanced across at Jonah conveyed the familiar impertinence tinged with a peculiar triumph. He thought he’d gained an advantage, Jonah supposed—and Jonah could not help feeling beholden yet.

Reid did not stay long after supper, but lingered on the cold step when Jonah followed him out to bid him goodnight. “Loyal group of friends you have. And a comfortable home. I can see why you haven’t rushed into marriage.”

“It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps I haven’t met the girl I wish to marry?”

Reid laughed. “By the time he’s fifteen, every man’s met the girl he wishes to marry. And consequently every girl after that.”

“It may be some of us aren’t meant to marry.”

“I suppose not.” Reid put on his hat. “But you’d agree all of us are meant to love.”

“I’ll allow that. But I’m not so naive to imagine it will always prove out.”

“Not as neatly as a balanced book, anyway.”

That was directed at him, Jonah knew, and he took refuge in a deliberately dry tone. “Never as neatly as a balanced book. Excluding, perhaps, Mr. Russell’s passbook.”

Reid snorted. “I’m sure Mr. Russell keeps a better account now.” He took his gloves from his coat pocket but did not put them on. “Well….” He smiled. “Jonah,” he said and held out his hand.

“Mr. Hylliard—” All too aware of the rueful light in the hazel eyes, Jonah yielded the formality with only a trace of regret. “Reid.”

Reid’s smile seemed to warm the very air around them. Jonah, realizing he was still holding Reid’s hand, withdrew. “That favor you asked for—”

“Done.”

“Really? Was it an invitation to supper?”

“No. A smaller victory, but just as sweet.”

It took Jonah a moment to understand. “But… that was all you wanted?”

“All….” Reid broke into a grin. “It’s a hard-won battle, getting to know you, Mr. Woolner.” He plunged down the rain-washed steps to the curb, to disappear down the dark street. Jonah had no doubt the man would manage to find his way safely home. He was a tom, landing always unerringly on his feet.

Played out by the day’s events, Jonah went to bed, but everything—from the soft tap of a bedpost against the wall to his own chasing thoughts—conspired to keep him awake. After useless minutes of trying to blot out both, he rolled onto his stomach, stretched his legs into the cold depths of the sheets, and drew the coverlet over his head. Unbidden came the memory of a hand in his, a knowing sympathy in the press of the palm. He hadn’t given Reid reason to like him; yet the man seemed to, or was very good at pretending he did. He’d hardly taken offense after finding Jonah trailing him around, not even after learning the reason why.

And Reid thought it was a battle hard won, getting to know
him
.

After
a restless night and a distracted ride downtown, Jonah went directly to his office and shut himself in. He didn’t suppose Reid would tell anyone a word of what had happened last night, but the possibility bothered him. His worry only increased when there was no sign of Reid until nearly mid-morning. Accustomed to the early intrusions, Jonah didn’t know what to make of it when the familiar figure bypassed his door and took up immediate residence in the cashier’s office instead. Perhaps Reid was seeing last night in a less understanding light.

Concerned, Jonah set aside the mail and went to Reid’s door. Hand on the knob, he hesitated, then knocked. The door abruptly opened. If Reid looked wary, good humor in the turn of his smile softened it. “You knocked.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t. Usually.”

“No.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah caught sight of Reid’s personal notebook peeking from under the papers on his desk. “No, I don’t. Do you object?” he said, meeting Reid’s gaze.

“Only sociologically.”

Jonah saw the sly sparkle, but continued anyway. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, ordinarily, people start out knocking, but when they’ve reached more familiar terms, the knocking comes about less often. At least, so I’ve witnessed until now.”

“I see. And I’ve got it in reverse, you’re saying.” Jonah came in and, turning the armchair to face the desk, sat.

Reid dropped into the desk chair and leaned back. “Can it be you’ve gotten used to the idea that this is my office?”

“I wouldn’t hold the notion too dear.” Jonah smiled. “That notebook on your desk….”

Reid picked it up. “My journal.”

“Bank related?”

“Some suggestions from the staff. Mostly yours.” His lips twitched. “I’ve taken to writing yours down, just to keep track.”

“I commend you for keeping paper and pencil at hand.”

Reid gave the book a careless wave. “Care to read it?”

Startled, Jonah hastily shook his head. He wondered that Reid was so comfortable with the idea of sharing what might be some intimate details he’d probably forgotten including. As Reid put the book away, Jonah changed the subject. “I hope last night’s adventure did not disrupt the remainder of your evening.”

“Not at all. I was on time this morning….” Reid hesitated, then went on rather guardedly. “I went to breakfast across the street. With Mr. Abbott.”

“Why…?” It hit Jonah all at once. “You were sobering him up.”

Reid contemplated him with a grim regard, as if he regretted bringing up the matter. “I’ll tell you in confidence that Mr. Abbott has been coping with some difficult family matters. He’s afraid his wife may leave him.”

“Well, I daresay coming home intoxicated will not dispose her to stay. I don’t know what you mean to accomplish by shielding him. He must be encouraged to give up drink… apparently for the sake of his marriage as well as his position here. I’ve talked to him—”

“I know.” A trace of returning humor colored Reid’s tone. “I can’t think why that hasn’t resolved the problem.”

“Mr. Abbott tends to become rather defensive and argumentative—”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the reaction.”

“Without reason,” Jonah continued archly. “We’re responsible to the directors as well as the staff—”

“You approve of the job Liam’s done till now. Isn’t it in the bank’s best interest to hold on to someone like that?”

“I won’t keep secrets from the directors.”

“To the bank’s detriment, no. But it won’t be, if you’ll give the man a chance to straighten himself out.”

“He’s had several chances already.”

Exasperation flashed in Reid’s eyes. “Have you considered that not everyone’s life is as uncomplicated as yours?”

It took
Jonah a moment to find his voice. “You presume quite freely on very little evidence. I will do my job as I see fit.”

“That’s apparent. But managing a bank is about more than… well, managing the bank.”

Jonah stared at him in disbelief. “If you’re implying that’s the reason I was passed over for promotion—”

“I meant what I said last night. I hold you in considerable regard. You took on Mr. Crowe’s work in addition to your own and kept the bank running smoothly. Under such circumstances, clinging to Crowe’s tried and true practices was probably for the best. But….” Reid seemed to be restraining a smile. “Whose stamp did you want to leave, Jonah? Mr. Crowe’s or yours?”