Love Between the Lines (5 page)

He sighed.
“Yes, of course. I just want you very much.”

They seemed to hear the do
uble meaning at the same instant. She felt herself flush, and he gave a slow and wicked smile. Another real smile. She could see it in his eyes.

Sir Gideon
waited for two heartbeats before he leaned forward and spoke in a low, husky voice with that lovely accent so only she could hear. “Your work is exquisite. Your prose style is delicate, with fine details and nothing overblown, yet each word packs quite a wallop, as you might say in America.”

Heavens. Was he talking about her words or her body?
After all, he’d found out what kind of physical wallop she packed when she’d careened into him.

He straightened. His smile faded
, and he tucked his hands behind his back and took a step away from her. “I am serious, you know. You don’t force your reader to plow through paragraphs of your own ranting; you let us see the situation for ourselves. You smoothly blend the specific with the general. And there’s always solid grounding in fact, so I know you are more than observant. You are also a fine researcher.”

She felt her knees go weak. The man might have called her
as magnetic as Helen of Troy and she wouldn’t feel this close to swooning. “Thank you,” she managed. “I suppose. Um. Thank you.”

“
It’s settled, then.”

She found herself nodding. So much for taking her time to decide
—she apparently had a new job. In
England
.

“
Shall we inform your family? Immediately,” he added.

She woke up from the strange trance his energy had thrown her into.
“I can do that. Why on earth do you think that’s part of your duties as my employer?”

“
It’s no trouble at all,” he said jovially. “I’d be glad to help.”

“
No,” she said firmly. “I think it is a terrible idea.”

Less than an hour later, she found herself in a carriage heading to her parents’ upper East Side house to discuss her future career as a writer in London.

“
Possible future,” she warned him. One nod didn’t mean he had won. He just smiled.

How had
Sir Gideon managed to convince her this visit to her parents was a good idea?

Lizzy stood outside the gloomy brownstone and felt like a guilty child as always.
Her heart had lodged itself somewhere about the middle of her gut. “I don’t understand why you think their blessing is necessary. You won’t get it, you know.”

“
Are you so certain?” Sir Gideon leaned forward and slammed the heavy brass knocker harder than necessary.

She winced at the noise.
“My father informed me that I was not to return until I come home to stay for good. He doesn’t approve of my work.”

He watched her,
his bright gaze far too interested. She twisted to look behind her, pretending to scan the area for Mr. Brinker or Oyster, but they’d been sent off by Langham in search of copies of the afternoon papers and had vanished around a corner.

“
I can’t believe you’d arrange to meet your usual employee’s family. I think you’re just curious about my parents,” she muttered. “I don’t know why.”

“
You are a young lady—for all that you’ve been running wild on the streets of New York.”

Her stomach tightened. Had he been lying when he
’d called her a professional? “I haven’t been running—”

“
I know, I know. I’m simply imagining it from their point of view. I wish to reassure them in person that I will keep you safe. Perhaps that will be enough for your father to feel less antagonistic about your career.”

“
It won’t.” She gave up. Let the demanding Sir Gideon find out for himself. Although Papa probably wouldn’t thunder in front of a guest he would make his attitude clear.

A maid she didn
’t know opened the door. The girl in the familiar black uniform with white cap looked at Sir Gideon and smiled. She didn’t spare a glance for Lizzy, who wondered if the portrait of her in the blue sitting room had been taken down. Or perhaps the plump, dark-haired maid was a flirt.

“
Sir Gideon Langham here to see Mr. and Mrs. Drury,” Sir Gideon said. He had adopted the lord-of-the-realm manner again and frowned. He and her father ought to exchange notes on how to behave like oppressive tyrants.

The maid curtsied far too low. Her mother tended to hire the showi
est sort of staff—perhaps in a misguided attempt to make herself seem subdued in contrast. The maid led them into a front hall, allowed them time to put their cards in the crowded card tray, which they didn’t, and then led them to the receiving chamber just off the entrance, a pleasant room with several sofas and armchairs. The maid scurried away and Lizzy sighed.

“
You realize I’ve never set eyes on that maid before?” she said. “She didn’t know me. I suppose it’s best you didn’t give my name as well. My father might have the servants show us the door before we even see the other side of it.”

She felt like a caged bear and paced the room, stopping to prod a dried flower display in a
n open shadow box. Something new since the last time she’d been home. A petal floated to the floor. “Whoops,” she muttered. She took off at a slow walk, picking up doilies from tables and putting them down again.

She lifted the porcelain figurine of the dancer from the mahogany fireplace mantel and stared into the insipid blank-eyed smile of the girl. Lizzy had never liked that piece.

Absently running her fingers over the figurine, she walked a few paces and put it down next to a bell jar covering the delicate and costly glass flower display—one of a matched set her papa had bought years ago. She’d managed to break the other one and father’s anger came back to her as she examined the sprigs of a glistening glass violet.
“A clumsy cow in a china shop,”
he’d said. At least he hadn’t called her a bull.

Sir Gideon
interrupted her thoughts. “Are you rearranging the room to fit your memory?”

She blinked and put her hands behind her back
, feeling like a naughty child
.
Touching objects again. Fiddling with something until it broke. Her nervous symptoms. “No. I simply must move or run out of here. Listen, Sir Gideon, I know you’re going to be my employer, but I think you demand too much by insisting on this visit.”

“
What can you mean?” he said jovially. “It shan’t take long.”

Lizzy nodded.
“There is that.” The last time she’d attempted to come home, it had been her mother’s birthday. Her father had allowed a five-minute visit before he reappeared with the coachman. He’d informed Lizzy that he would have Peter escort her from the premises if she didn’t leave on time. To spare her mother, who’d been turning bright red, Lizzy left immediately. As they’d hugged good-bye, her mother had murmured that Papa probably wouldn’t have had her bodily removed.

Lizzy
picked up a silver vinaigrette from an occasional table and paced the room twice before putting it on the mantel. “Honestly, I thought you British were reserved. Your race isn’t the sort to go poking into other people’s business.”

Sir Gideon
said nothing but lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes, the aristocrat again. “Surely a trained observer such as yourself knows better than to make generalizations.”

She smiled.
“Aha! So you admit you’re nosy.”

Then a familiar voice interrupted her moment of triumph.

“Sir Gideon?”

Her father, ta
ll and leaner than she recalled, stood in the doorway, dressed in a dark suit for work.

Then Mr. Drury
’s shoulders went back and the polite smile he wore dissolved—he’d noticed Lizzy. She moved at once behind the leather chair near the fireplace.

“
Elizabeth. Did you arrive at the same time as Sir Gideon?” He sounded stern—and worse, disappointed.

She nodded. Her hands rested
on the back of the chair and her fingers clutched it tight so she’d stay still.

“
Are you friends with this gentleman?” Mr. Drury demanded.

“
Not precisely,” began Sir Gideon.

“
You were alone with a man. Here in our house?” His quiet voice was hoarse from holding back his temper. That was fast, she thought.

“
For less than a minute, Papa,” she said as quietly as she could. “Let me explain—”

But of course he wouldn
’t listen to her. He turned his back. “Sir Gideon, I beg your pardon. You wished to see me about something? Does it concern Elizabeth?” For a brief moment, something like hope flashed in his eyes, but just as quickly it was gone. Good God, he must have wondered if Langham was a suitor. Poor Papa. But he wasn’t a stupid man and now he frowned considering the matter. “Sir Gideon? Langham? The British publisher?”

“
Yes, indeed. I’m only over here for a month. Very fast visit. Ten days until I sail.” Sir Gideon sounded jolly, like a guest who’d been invited to tea. Although of course neither of them had been invited to so much as sit down.

Papa remained silent and his hands trembled at his sides. Had he trembled with rage before? Lizzy wondered if the palsy arose from emotion. Surely if he had some sort of illness she would have heard by now.

“I expect you’re wondering why we came to visit today—” Gideon began.

“
I think I can guess,” Mr. Drury said. “You are a publisher and you are employing my daughter. More than that I do not need to know. And Elizabeth knows the conditions under which she might enter my house.”

She nodded. Too bad she couldn
’t point to Sir Gideon and whine,
He made me
, like a child. But if she kept quiet, she could perhaps leave without bursting into gusts of unladylike tears. For once.

Sir Gideon
said, “She did try to explain to me that you would not be glad to see her—”

“
She knows the conditions,” Mr. Drury started again.

Sir Gideon
raised his voice only a little. “But I assured her that any father knowing his child was taking a journey overseas would wish to bid her good-bye.” Lizzy, despite her distress, couldn’t help noticing with some glee that Sir Gideon was as good at the intimidation and interruption game as her father. Few were.

“
Overseas?” Mr. Drury finally met Lizzy’s eyes but only for a couple of seconds.

Her mother
’s carrying voice came from the hall. “Lizzy is leaving? Is it that around-the-world trip she talked about?”

Her beloved mother came into the room. In happier times, Papa had always said his two ladies might be doubles.
Except Lizzy didn’t have her mother’s warm amber eyes or the gray now threading her mother’s hair—or her penchant for bright clothing.

“
How do you do, Mrs. Drury?” Sir Gideon came forward and took her hand. He pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles, not just the air above them. Show-off.

Mama showed him her glorious smile.
“Good afternoon, Sir Gideon. I was listening behind the door. What is this all about?”

“
Eavesdropping, Mama?” Lizzy hid her smile.

“
Mrs. Drury.” Papa’s voice, still quiet, managed to fill the room. “We have agreed that we must not allow sentiment to rule us. We cannot forget the situation with Edward Harrington.”

Lizzy
flinched as she always did when her father mentioned the banker. She couldn’t regret doing her job, but there was no arguing with her father. She looked over at Sir Gideon and kept her mouth shut rather than protest to her father.
Just a few words with Mama, please
.

T
hen, to her shock, her mother piped up.

“
Yes. Another time, I promise I will listen, Mr. Drury. But I have not seen my girl, our girl, for too long, and apparently she is going on a voyage.” She moved to a bell and tugged on it. “Tomorrow, I will obey. Today, I find I cannot.”

Lizzy had never heard her sp
eak like this. Mrs. Drury was noisy, colorful, but unfailingly submissive to her husband. She would argue with anyone else—hansom drivers, merchants, or Lizzy—but not him. What had changed between her parents? Lizzy glanced at her father for a quick second and saw his face had reddened. She said, “Mama, it is all right. I don’t want to make trouble.”

Mama waved a hand.
“I have learned that we will survive turbulence. Won’t we, Mr. Drury?”

But Papa had left the room.
Less than a minute later, a door slammed at the back of the house.

Lizzy
wanted to urge her mother to go after him. This was going to be awful later for Mama—silence alternating with bellows or endless lectures. “I am sorry, Mama.”

“
No, no need.” Her manner was brisk and forthright. Lizzy wondered what had happened between her parents that made her mother show such a rebellious streak. Her mother must have seen her confusion and said, “If you are willing to come see us, I should at least meet you halfway.”

The maid appeared
, and Mama ordered coffee and some poppy-seed cake. “Or would you rather have tea, Sir Gideon?”

Her manner was entirely calm. Lizzy wondered what her father would do should she stay longer than five minutes. Bring in Peter? Whistle for the police? Would he also eject
Sir Gideon?

“
Coffee is perfect,” he said.

“
Then take a seat and we’ll talk.” Mrs. Drury waved a hand at the semicircle of chairs.

She leaned forward on the chair that seemed to want to swallow her up.
“What is this about, Lizzy? You’re going on a journey?”

“
I am thinking of going to England.”

Her mother
’s eyes narrowed. “Papa is right; you’d work for Sir Gideon? Why on earth do you think this is a good idea?”

Elizabeth
’s back straightened as she tried to think of an answer. As she considered the question, she tried not to slide into the depths of the chair. She too was dwarfed by the chair designed for a large gentleman like her father. Unlike her mother, at least she could put her feet flat on the floor. “Some stories take time and resources to write, and Sir Gideon will pay me for my time even when I don’t produce stories. It’s been hard to find anyone who’ll pay me without demanding instant results.”

Her mother frowned.

“And he’ll pay for Oyster’s passage and employment as well as my own.”

Her mother sniffed.
“You can find that sort of help anywhere.”

Lizzy was surprised that her mother objected to Oyster.
“He’s loyal,” she started to say before it occurred to her that Mama would find something wrong with every part of the plan.

“
Do you think I shouldn’t go?” she asked softly.

Mrs. Drury
’s back was as straight and stiff as Lizzy’s own. The fingers of her right hand drummed on the arm of the chair. “I will be blunt,” she said at last. “I think it is a bad idea that you travel with him or spend much time in his company. Sir Gideon is a good-looking young man.” She might have said he was a sneak thief, her disdain was that strong.