The Only Gold (32 page)

Reid paused in mid-signature to cast him a dark look. “From porter to settling clerk. Quite a promotion.”

Jonah laughed. “You calculate faster than any settling clerk I know. And I thought you might like the fresh air.”

“Noise and activity would work better. Any suggestions?”

“At nine thirty on a Friday morning? The stock exchange.”

That won him a laugh. “I might take you up on it.”

It was a sojourn never ventured upon, as Mr. Grandborough appeared at dinnertime, followed shortly by Mr. Naughton and the directors, to meet over last-minute details. Reid’s worry appeared infectious, as Mr. Naughton was more nervous than usual and the directors more talkative. Only Mr. Grandborough possessed his usual aplomb as he outlined the already familiar security measures and addressed everyone’s concerns. “We will have the matter safely done by five,” he said as the directors rose to leave. “I’m taking my nephews to the torchlight parade, so my sister will be quite displeased if I am any later than six.”

The directors chuckled, and as they went out, fell into congratulating each other on the bank’s success. Jonah, at the door, glanced back to see Mr. Grandborough shake Reid’s hand. Two months ago, it would have stung most bitterly. Now it brought regret that he’d lost an opportunity through his own naiveté, but it was regret overshadowed by a sudden surge of pride. Reid cared about the bank. There was no man better fit to take it in hand, if only he could be persuaded to stay.

Saturday
dawned crisp and bright, a day that, under ordinary circumstances, would have set the staff daydreaming of park strolls and picnics. To Jonah’s pleasure, everyone stayed focused, partly due to the return of Reid’s usual enthusiasm as he oversaw their progress. Jonah, at Margaret’s desk, observed it obsequiously from behind the ledger until Margaret regained his attention with a pencil tap on the page. “Reid has everything under control, my dear.”

Jonah turned the book back over to her. “He’s gotten past his worry, I think.”

“Worry?” Margaret glanced at Reid, who was in conversation with a customer at Simon’s window. “Is he worried?”

Reid had revealed his concerns to no one else. Startled and strangely pleased by the discovery, Jonah dissembled and smiled as if it were no matter. At three sharp, Mr. Grandborough’s carriage drew to the curb, followed by a second carriage under the guidance of two policemen and a man Jonah guessed must be the Treasury official. Suddenly aware of the churning in his stomach, Jonah went to greet them. Reid joined him, and it wasn’t until after Mr. Grandborough’s speech and the formal conveyance of the funds to the vault that Jonah knew just how thoroughly Reid’s worry had distracted him from his own.

But at supper, it became clear Reid hadn’t shaken his own uneasiness. He stayed lost in his thoughts, despite Jonah’s efforts to draw him out. Jonah despaired altogether as the restaurant quickly became too crowded for conversation. Upon leaving, they found the streets in as bad a way. From a distance came raucous music of the sort heard issuing from dance halls, and Reid, who had been ambling along in silence, stopped in his tracks. “What is that?”

Jonah shook his head. “A hotel party, perhaps….” Then he remembered. “It must be the torchlight parade.”

Reid seemed to wake. “I forgot all about it.” He seized Jonah’s hand and began to push through the crowd.

“Where are we going?”

“To find a better vantage point.”

“We may have to go all the way to Brooklyn for that.”

“I’ll find us a tree to climb.”

Jonah snorted. “I will remind you we are bankers and not eight-year-old boys.”

Reid threw a grin at him. “Everyone’s eight, Jo. It’s the circus.”

Despite the cold, adults and children alike had surmounted the rooftops. Down the street, torchlight flared, the music ever brighter. Illuminations showered from the dark sky like a thousand falling stars, and as many voices let loose a murmur of awe. Reid stopped at the curb and drew the attention of an elderly couple at a third-story sill. “Your corner window, we’ll give you five dollars for the use of it.”

The couple consulted with an exchange of glances, and the woman smiled. “Ten,” she called down.

As Reid drew out his pocketbook, Jonah caught his arm. “That’s outrageous. You can’t.”

“I want to.” Reid gently shook him off and extracted the agreed-upon sum. Jonah reluctantly followed him up, and the couple allowed them into a tidy spare room, which looked as though it hadn’t been slept in for a while. After pocketing the ten dollars, the woman warmed considerably, offering them a cup of tea. Reid got her to agree they might turn the small settee toward the window, and as she went out, he shut the door after her. “You have to admit this is better than a cold roof.”

Jonah couldn’t deny the magnificence of the view. Torchbearers too numerous to count threw the pageantry into sharp relief. A military band marched past, followed by riders costumed in fairytale garb. Their Arabian stallions enraptured the crowd, until zebras, giraffes, and elephants falling into step on the city street made all that had come before seem commonplace.

Painted cages transporting less docile creatures rolled past, and an awestruck quiet fell. The grinning showman snapped his whip, and against the iron bars a lion surged, its eyes a gold flash in the firelight. The crowd gasped, many retreating from the curb. Jonah had to wonder if the showman, so near the cage, did not consider whether the lion might deal him a blow right between the bars. He wished for an instant he were down in the street, near enough to see into the creature’s fearsome gaze and share the crowd’s excitement. But that would have meant giving up the best part of the evening—Reid leaning against him, rambling on in delight over every rider and caged beast that passed.

When the procession moved along, a still-growing crowd trailing after, the lights from the street faded and a soft kiss warmed Jonah’s cheek. Reid’s whisper warmed the rest of him. “This is one of those nights I’ll remember for years.”

“I will too.” He laced his fingers with Reid’s and looked into eyes with their own flash of gold. “The circus has never seemed so grand.”

“Not much in this old world isn’t better shared.” Reid stood and pulled him to his feet.

“Is that from Father Francis?”

“No. Just me.”

The promise of rain hung in the air, but Jonah was glad when Reid suggested foregoing a cab. As they walked to the hotel, they discussed the merits of giving up banking to join the circus. After all the worries that had beset Reid, it heartened Jonah to hear him laugh. At the hotel, Reid locked the door and sought him without a word. The kiss sharpened Jonah’s desire for more, but first he had to know. “Better now?”

“Best I’ve ever been.”

“You trust the deposit is safe?”

“Safe.” Reid pushed suit coat and overcoat off Jonah’s shoulders.

“Reid—”

“Safe, yes. Safer than you’ll be if you don’t quit talking about it.”

“Well, as long as you’re reconciled,” Jonah said dryly, and found himself seized upon and dispatched to the depths of the counterpane. Reid, atop him, chased the discussion from his mind with a kiss clearly fashioned for the purpose, and Jonah gave it no more thought until he woke in the early hours, to find Reid awake beside him. “Not so reconciled?”

Reid laughed. “I’m all right.”

“But you can’t sleep.”

“I could. I just… want to listen.”

Puzzled, Jonah lay quiet a long minute. “What are we listening to?”

In the dark burrow of damask and linen, Reid shifted closer and rested his head on Jonah’s pillow. “When I was a boy and couldn’t sleep, Francis called it an opportunity to see what the world was like in the small hours. He’d tell me to lie still and listen. Of course I’d fall asleep. But I got into the habit of it, listening to the world at night.”

“I see. What have you discovered of interest this night?”

“Well, our upstairs neighbor can’t sleep, either. He’s been pacing on and off. Several guests who made a late night of it are just now coming back. I’ve heard a dozen carriages stop in the past half hour. I couldn’t hear the chatter, but from the general tone, everyone had a lively evening. One fellow stood for a good five minutes on the sidewalk, singing, until someone had the sense to bring him inside.”

Jonah laughed. “A hotel isn’t always the most suitable spot for a decent night’s rest.”

“No. Mind if I ask you—”

“Anything you want.”

Reid was quiet so long, Jonah thought he might have fallen asleep. But then the question came. “What was your mother like?”

Surprised, Jonah realized he shouldn’t be. “She was….” He reached for the words and did not find them easily. “She was very practical. Efficient. Not sentimental nor particularly expressive, even toward the lot of us. But let anyone treat us unfairly or threaten us with harm….” Jonah shook his head. “They would not think to try again for fear of their very lives.”

Reid chuckled. “This was the same woman who wouldn’t let you farm after the scarlet fever?”

A memory of his mother asleep in a chair beside his bed came to Jonah, and he swallowed against an ache in his throat. “That was the only thing that ever frightened her, one of us falling ill. She didn’t like feeling helpless where her children were concerned.” His eyes burned and he eased away from the memory. “Margaret reminds me of her. Strong-willed, self-contained.”

“Did I ever tell you how she pled your case, back in January?”

“Did she? I think she was afraid you’d discharge me.”

“I think she was afraid I’d drag you upstairs and throw you off the roof.”

Jonah rose on his elbows and looked down at Reid with a benevolent smile. “She pled your case as well, you know.”

“I know. I owe her for that.”

Though Reid grinned, Jonah knew it was only half in jest. He laid his head on Reid’s shoulder and shut his eyes, buoyed toward sleep by the affectionate comb of fingers through his hair. He could stay just so, and be content for all his days. It was a feeling he’d never known in his life, but then, he had never been so indecently happy. “Come to dinner tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow. I’ve got a call to make—”

“Your East Side friends?”

“That’s right.”

“Surely not all day?”

“The better part of it. They’re leaving town and tomorrow’s my only chance to say farewell.”

Jonah heard the tension in his voice. “You’re not looking forward to it. Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”

“Well, I don’t like giving up the day with you.”

“It’s all right. But if you stop by late, please don’t rouse the household.”

“I won’t get away, so don’t expect me. And don’t take it as an opportunity to go in to the bank. Maybe we’ve got work to catch up on after the deposit, but it doesn’t have to be done in an afternoon.”

“What harm is there—”

“Jonah.” Reid pushed him onto his back and dropped on him, pinning him further with a warning gaze. “If I have to exact a promise from you, I will.”

Jonah laughed. “If it will ease your mind, you have it. But with neither you nor work, I will be at hopeless loose ends.”

“Stay home for dinner. Winnie and Edith will be glad to have you back.”