Love Between the Lines (6 page)

Lizzy
shifted in her chair. Yes, he was good-looking. Too attractive for her to worry about him as a potential suitor and surely he wouldn’t try to seduce his own employee. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“
Mrs. Drury,” he said. “I am a gentleman, and I am Miss Drury’s employer. I can assure you that I would never take advantage of your daughter.”

“
No, I doubt you would mean to. That’s what Lizzy’s father said all those years ago. And look at us.”

“
Pardon me?” If Sir Gideon had been a dog, his ears would have twitched forward with interest.

Lizzy couldn
’t believe her mother was telling this story to a near stranger—a story that always embarrassed her father.

Mrs. Drury glanced at the door before continuing.
“I was his employee, Sir Gideon. I worked for my brother, who was putting the family’s library in order.” For a moment, her face softened and she almost smiled. “Employers, even the ones with the best intentions, are still human.”

Sir Gideon
cleared his throat. “Naturally, if you think we should hire a chaperone, I would be glad to pay her way.”

“
No. Oh no.” Lizzy was horrified. Bad enough that he insisted on visiting her family. If he kept this up, she wasn’t going to be able to do her job. “I’m already costing more as a female because of Oyster. I shall be a reporter. That is to say, I already am. I do not need to be treated as a proper young lady.”

Her mother sighed.
“Yes, that is really the issue at hand. Not where you go but what you are. And I don’t think you will ever change because you are so like your father.”

Lizzy scowled. She was nothing like him. She
’d never run roughshod over people just because they held differing opinions. She didn’t bellow down the rafters. No one was scared of her.

“
Stubborn,” Mama explained. “To the point of obstinacy. He’ll not give up, you know. You won’t be welcome here unless you renounce your unsuitable choices.”

“Mama, I can
’t. Why is he so stubborn?”

Her mother leaned forward. “It was Mr. Harrington, sweetheart.” She spoke quietly but
even her whispers carried. “He went to school with your father and they were close. You saw the way the man was changed by those stories you wrote. He blamed you—”

“
He
was the criminal, not I.”

“Yes, yes. But I
’m explaining why your father was so shaken. Mr. Harrington came to dine with us one night during the trial and I’m afraid he might have spoken to your father in a convincing manner about the lack of civility and civilization that a newspaper brings to the world.”

“
A newspaper merely exposes the lack of civility,” Lizzy began. She was tired of this conversation.

“
I think you’re correct. It was a memorable visit, and that is all, my darling. The poor man was entirely undone. Shaking hands, far too thin, and—”

“Mama.” Lizzy wanted the words to stop. “It was not easy for me. I have suffered because of what he did and what he was to our family.”

“I know, heavens, yes, you’ve suffered.” Her mother made a face. “But overall you have thrived, thank goodness.”

“Then why
do you talk about Harrington as if he’s some kind of victim?”

“H
e might have brought it on himself, but when a worm shrivels up in the sunlight, one can’t help feel sorry for the poor slimy thing.”

“
Mama, you don’t think I’m even slightly responsible, do you?”

Her mother didn
’t answer at once.

Lizzy said, “
Put the blame where it belongs, on the man who committed the crimes. He hurt himself and innocent bank customers. Come, I was not the only one to write stories about him.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “Of course
not,” she said heartily, then paused. “It is simply that you are devastating with a pen, love. I’m proud of you, and a little afraid of you too. Perhaps that is how Papa feels as well.”

Lizzy had heard this nonsense before
: how she had betrayed a man she’d known all of her life. Enough.

Lizzy
risked a glance at Sir Gideon to see if he was relishing this silly drama. Really, she was surprised that both her father and mother were willing to discuss their family rows in front of a near stranger.

But
Langham didn’t seem to notice her attention, and he wore a vacant, amiable expression. She wore the same face when she was composing an article in her mind and not heeding her surroundings. Good.

“
I expect we have another five minutes before he starts to become difficult.” Her mother managed to sound cheerful. She reached up and fiddled with the catch of her necklace, her best ruby-and-pearl necklace. A tenth-anniversary present from Papa.

Mama rose to her feet and walked to Lizzy
’s chair. She practically tossed the necklace at the astounded Lizzy. “I don’t have money for you, but this should do in case you run into an emergency.”

Sir Gideon
gave a small huff as if he objected, then changed his mind. She supposed he thought her mother was saying he’d cause the emergency. So much for Lizzy’s hope that he was not paying attention to the conversation.

For a moment
, Mama, who was not usually a socially awkward woman, remained standing in front of Lizzy, silent and fiddling with the fringe of her shawl. “Perhaps I shouldn’t stay and have coffee with you, after all.”

Lizzy agreed that she sho
uld leave. Papa would probably brood for days after this visit. No reason to give him more reason to nurse a grudge.

Her mother pressed her wide mouth into a thin, anxious line and glanced at the door
.  Life in the Drury house hadn’t changed so very much.

Sometimes Lizzy thought it funny to watch her lioness of a mother roll over an
d pretend to be a tabby cat in her father’s presence. Other times, Lizzy wanted to give them both a smacking blow on the nose. At the moment, she only felt weary of their strange but strong affection.

She touched a ruby on the necklace in her lap and wondered if she should just leave the jewelry behind. That might hurt her mother, though, and Lizzy was touched that Mama would try to help her. She looked up at
her mother who still stood before her, as if waiting for a response. “Thank you.”

Her mother nodded but still didn
’t move. She touched Lizzy’s cheek with two fingers. “I am pleased you will write the sort of stories you want to. You write them well. I think you make a good change in the world, and I am proud of you.” She spoke in her usual matter-of-fact manner—and she didn’t glance nervously at the door once. She looked only at Lizzy.

Lizzy lurched to her feet
and hugged her mother. She hadn’t known how much she’d longed to hear those words. “Thank you. Ah, Mama, I love you so much.” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes prickled, and she knew that once again she was about to create a wretched scene at her parents’ house. But at least her father wasn’t a witness—and at least she wasn’t the only one. Her mother fiercely clutched her and the way her shoulders shook, Lizzy understood she too was crying. Lizzy hadn’t seen her mother cry for years. Was it for joy that they finally embraced? Sorrow that she had such a stubborn daughter? Lizzy wanted to howl. Instead she held her mother tighter.

This was actually good, Gideon told himself as he stared down at his well-polished boots. The way mother and daughter clung together, he judged this scene was a long time coming. Reconciliation, he supposed. Or perhaps they indulged in this sort of scene every time they met. They seemed emotionally ostentatious people.

He shuffled his feet and tried not to make any
excessive noise. Let the Drurys have their private moment—for once his reporter’s urge to witness raw events was entirely absent. He wished himself any place on earth other than this room.

The squeak of a wheeled cart and the rattle of cups announced the arrival of the coffee
, and the two women broke apart immediately.

Mrs. Drury pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her face. Elizabeth swiped her sleeve across her swollen eyes.

“Oh, Lizzy,” her mother scolded and pressed the neatly folded white cloth into her hands. “You never have remembered to leave the house with a handkerchief.”

Gideon hid a smile. In seconds the atmosphere in the room had gone from high drama to
a normal interaction between mother and daughter.

She sat back down
, and they drank coffee after all.

“
But should you tarry with me, Mama?” Miss Drury glanced at the door significantly. Both women seemed to watch that door more than anything else.

“
Mr. Drury will be angry, but he will not do more than lecture me,” Mrs. Drury said as she sipped from her cup.

“
Will he cut off your allowance?”

“
Perhaps, but I do have some savings of my own now.” She put down her cup.

Though Mrs. Drury had said that it didn
’t matter that they stayed longer, she seemed anxious, glancing at the door, again, and then at the clock over the mantel.

Gideon half hoped Mr. Drury wou
ld come back in and he’d witness why the two women were so anxious to avoid the man’s disapproval. Perhaps he played a pompous god in their little universe. He looked the part. Take away the well-tailored suit of a businessman, give Drury another decade or so—not to mention a flowing white beard—and he’d be the double of the portrait of God in the Sistine Chapel.

Although now recalling his brief examination of the man, Gideon decided that Mr. Drury appeared slightly more Nordic than Michelangelo
’s version of God. He certainly was nothing like Elizabeth, although they might have similar noses. Ah, and her father’s blue eyes were a washed-out, warier version of hers.

He sipped the excellent coffee, perhaps his eighth cup that day
, and observed the ladies. Miss Drury seemed to catch her mother’s anxiety. At last she mumbled something about things to do and rose, leaving her cake and coffee untouched. He got to his feet as well.

“
Good-bye, my dear.” Mrs. Drury was brisk again. She held her daughter by the upper arms and pressed her cheek to hers.

She looked at Gideon.
“I am pleased to meet you, sir,” she said with much less emotion. “I wish you a pleasant journey.”

As they walked out into the sunlight Miss Drury turned to him. Her nose was still pink from her crying.
“Was that worth your time? Have you satisfied your busybody curiosity?”

“
I was glad to meet your parents,” he said repressively.

S
he had the right to display a pushy, disrespectful manner at the moment—after all, he’d insisted on the visit to her parents’ house. Yet he expected she’d probably behave as an impertinent nuisance under any circumstances.

She looked across the cobblestoned street toward two figures under a street lamp.
“You are ridiculous. Our companions are waiting for us and I really do have to work,” she said.

They walked down the long block toward the two men who hadn
’t noticed them yet. Miss Drury’s chin lifted and she smiled when Oyster spotted them.

He felt
a wash of relief that she wouldn’t sulk. She probably never did, which was likely her downfall. Better to quietly brood than go into a rage and speak her mind when dealing with some people—like that father of hers.

“
You should return to your boardinghouse and pack, now that you know you’ve decided to come with us. What a relief. I can return to my hotel and lead a proper life instead of trailing around after you, begging.”

She actually grinned at him.
“Yes, I must say it has given my self-esteem quite a boost, having one of England’s premier publishers panting at my heels.”

The outrageous image of panting after her made Gideon smirk and raise his eyebrows, silently communicating the salacious possibilities of her words.

She met his eyes and looked away quickly.

He said,
“I’m surprised. I thought you’d believe a little more panting would do me good. Would you have me add a grovel to the heavy breathing?”

She still didn
’t look at him. “It’s getting late.” She took off at a trot toward Oyster, who was sauntering in their direction.

Gideon
lengthened his stride to catch up with her. The words had slipped out. He had no intention of taking on a flirtatious tone with Trudy Tildon. A real lady waited for him, the serene Lady Edith.

The calm
Lady Edith appealed to him. Even her not particularly graceful dancing was to his taste. Her slight wooden air when he touched her on the dance floor gave her an air of innocence. He didn’t want a lithe partner in marriage. Too much like the professional dancers in his past. He didn’t mind those agile women, not at all—generally speaking, he enjoyed them as people as well as partners. Yet they were connections from another age and station in life. Those ladies were from his shady past, not the brilliant future he’d planned.