The Only Gold (7 page)

The seats had filled quickly, leaving Jonah no choice but to sit beside him. Mr. Coletti was crowded in with a boisterous group of young clerks further down the table, but didn’t seem to mind it. The din was deafening, yet the waiters managed to thunder out orders across to the kitchen with little concern for the hearing of those in close proximity. Worse was the reek of grease and gravy mingling with the smoke to create a noxious haze.

Jonah looked over the bill of fare and contemplated whether the pork or roast would be less likely to invite a bout of dyspepsia. He reluctantly chose the roast. “Do you dine here every day?”

“Just once,” Reid said cheerfully, raising his voice to be heard. “Yesterday.”

The waiter returned all too swiftly and dumped before Jonah a plate weighted with a thick slab of roast beef and piece of sausage in a shimmering puddle of gravy and, almost on top of it, a mountain of mashed turnips. The bread beside it had been shorn of its edges, no doubt to remove any advancing molds. Jonah’s stomach shrank in defense. “You’ve eaten here once, and you deemed it of such admirable quality that you thought to imperil not only your own digestion but ours as well?”

Reid, mouth full, pointed his knife in Mr. Coletti’s direction. “That check is all the money he has at the moment—” He stopped to swallow. “And I thought since we’re taking him to dinner, it might as well be someplace to suit his appetite and offer a little companionship besides.”

In the midst of regaling each other with the events of the morning, the clerks had included Mr. Coletti in their chatter. Though when a comment was directed at him, he did little more than smile and nod, he seemed enchanted by their energetic attempts to communicate. Jonah realized if Reid had taken them to a quiet café, Mr. Coletti might not have found it as comfortable and inviting. “He may like it here, but why you imagined I would—”

“I knew you wouldn’t.” Reid looked at Jonah’s untouched meal. “You’re not going to eat?”

The gravy had congealed around the roast beef and was rising damp into the bread. Jonah poked at it with a fork and decided the soup might be a more palatable choice. “If you knew, why—”

“You’ve got your heart set on thinking the worst of me. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You assume a great deal.”

“You will let me know when my assumptions are incorrect.”

“You may take it for granted.” Jonah caught the dubious glance. “You don’t know me. And you can’t deny you’ve been doing your utmost to vex me since you arrived at Grandborough.”

Reid coughed, then swallowed. “I’ve been trying to vex you?”

“Deliberately, from what I can tell—”

“The rest of the staff feels the same?”

“I haven’t discussed it with the rest of the staff.”

“Why not? Don’t think you can convince them?”

“I don’t know. You’ve certainly managed to be charming and persuasive with everyone else.”

“Good of you to admit it.”

Jonah had to laugh. “I do wonder at your interest in whether someone may or may not be taken with you, when you are so thoroughly taken with yourself.”

The waiter came back with a bowl of oxtail soup. Reid confiscated the uneaten roast beef. “Is that what bothers you? That the staff is taken with me? Or that they’re not as taken with you?”

Jonah’s stomach turned with an odd little flop, which did not improve matters regarding the meal. “That has nothing to do with it. The staff may find you—”

“Charming and persuasive?”

Jonah’s irritated glance only made Reid grin. Determined to have it out, Jonah took a steadying breath and went on. “The staff may find you a distracting change of pace from the routine of the familiar, but don’t suppose that will stand you in good stead with the directors. The cashier’s is a demanding job, and I think you might begin to take it seriously, if you intend to keep it.”

The grin still played, but softly. “That’s just what I intend. In fact, you may take it for granted.”

Jonah set his spoon beside the steaming soup. “As Mr. Coletti requires the assistance of only the cashier—and one of us should be at the bank—I think I will go.” He laid a handful of change beside his plate before he left. The afternoon air was sharp and clean, free of the odors of coal fires and grease, and blissfully absent of Reid’s stinging words and overbearing manner. If Jonah had entertained even the smallest hope of learning to tolerate the man, that hope was gone. Let the staff swoon over him. Jonah imagined it wouldn’t be long before Reid’s impulsive practices opened their eyes.

It was
nearly two o’clock when Reid rapped at his office door, then entered without invitation. “I’ve paid Mr. Coletti.”

Hardly surprising, that. “I suppose our next innovation will be to hand out money to passersby in the street.”

Reid laughed. “Interesting suggestion. I’ll give it some thought. Anyway, Mr. Coletti has decided to keep his pennies safe with us.”

Jonah could not bring himself to congratulate Reid on the new account. “Has he signed the book?”

“The book? You don’t use signature slips?”

Jonah braced instinctively for another battle. “A signature book has suited us for thirty years.”

“And if you need the signature of an out-of-town customer?”

“I send out a slip for signing and paste it into the book, if need be.”

Reid sighed. “That’s a mackerel that needs tossing. I’ll talk to Matthew about it. I’m going to have him reorder his note case from alphabet to calendar so we can more easily see the money coming in.”

“And make it more difficult to find particular notes when he needs to.”

“We’ll have an index book, and it will be easier to keep track of notifications.”

“Our present system has not prevented Mr. Falk from notifying anyone of notes coming due.”

“Just out of curiosity, Mr. Woolner, do you plan to challenge me on every proposal or are you just testing the limits of my exceptional patience?”

“You may consider that my patience also has limits. You move much too fast. A bank requires stability—”

“This bank, I think, requires a boot in the seat of the pants.”

“And you will apply that boot quite freely, until the bank is no more than rubble around you.”

“As manager of this establishment, I’ll apply it as I see fit.” That tone again. Not angry, not admonishing; just cool and immovable. “I know why you’re not… shall we say… kindly disposed to my employment here, but I hoped your loyalty to the bank—”

“My loyalty to the bank is the reason I take issue with these innovations, as you call them.”

“The only reason?”

Jonah met the frank gaze, and though the words wouldn’t come, he knew the answer was in his face. He had never spoken in such a way to Mr. Crowe or any bank officer. It seemed impossible and dreadful he was doing so now. The cashier was indeed the manager and should, as Jonah had lectured the staff upon occasion, command the respect and obedience of everyone at the bank. But Reid was more a danger to the bank than its savior, and neither respect nor obedience would come easily in such circumstances. And none of it could he express to Reid without jeopardizing his situation further.

He was spared having to try when suddenly the door swung open and Simon burst in. Seeing Reid, Simon pulled himself up short. “Begging your pardon.” His gaze swept to Jonah. “Her royal self has stopped in. She wants the cashier….” He glanced at Reid, then back at Jonah with bright-eyed impishness. “I think she’s still meaning you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Campbell. That will do.”

Simon merely smirked at the admonishment and left the door wide. Reid seemed mystified. “Mrs. Chickering?”

“Alice Grandborough.”

At Margaret’s desk she waited, gloved hands resting on the curve of her umbrella handle, the satin ribbons on her hat a shimmer of blue against the yellow silk of her hair. She sat very straight and still, a wary doe conscious of wolves nearby. Indeed, most of the clerks had forgotten their work and their manners and were casting admiring glances in her direction. Jonah cleared his throat, and the clerks found a renewed interest in their work. That won him a warm smile from Alice. “Jonah. I am so pleased to see you—”

A genteel cough interrupted her, and Jonah knew without looking around that the stalwart shape of Miss Grandborough’s governess, Honoria Brundish, occupied a chair nearby. Alice’s eyes twinkled. “You must forgive Honoria. She’s suffering a cold in the head.”

Miss Brundish snapped open the gold watch pinned to her coat, then nodded at the hand Alice had tucked into Jonah’s. “That will do.”

Alice
gave his hand a quick squeeze and let go. “Honoria’s a little upset. We were spoken to in the street by some rather forward fellows….”

“No trouble, I hope,” Jonah said.

“None for me.” Alice glanced ruefully at her governess. “The poor boys may need a doctor.”

Behind him, Reid chuckled, and Jonah remembered belatedly to introduce him. Reid predictably flashed the self-serving smile the women on the staff found so irresistible. “I thought we’d seen the last of the sun on this gloomy afternoon.” He shook Alice’s hand swiftly, and she laughed.

“Very good, Mr. Hylliard. I think you might have had a second or two to spare.”

“I’ll keep it in account for our next meeting.”

“Please do—”

“Alice,” Honoria said.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you,” Alice said, without trying to conceal the mischievous light in her eyes. “Mr. Hylliard, may I present my tutor and most earnest champion, Miss Brundish.”

Reid’s smile this time was a little more guarded. “Miss Brundish, a pleasure.” He offered his hand, and when she looked indignant, withdrew it. “I had an Aunt Honoria,” he rambled on. “My father called her Honey.”

Honoria’s jaw shifted forward, her eyes a glittering gray. “I beg your pardon?”

For an instant, Jonah thought she would make use of her rather substantial umbrella. Though the possibility enchanted, he thought the better of permitting it in the lobby. Half-forgotten business came out of the fog which had encompassed everything since Reid’s arrival, and Jonah turned to Alice. “You have a meeting with Mr. Hook today?”

“Why do you think I brought along Honoria?” she whispered, laughing.

“Mr. Hook,” Reid said, a wrinkle between his brows. “I haven’t met him yet, have I?”

Jonah shook his head. “Our discount clerk. He’s three doors down from yours, at the end of the corridor. You may have heard—”

“Oh, I’ve heard. He was arguing with someone this morning,” Reid said. “Doesn’t he come out of his office?”

Jonah had to smile. “He’s rather… temperamental. I suppose it’s the nature of the work. You’ll have to make the best of it, I’m afraid. The board only meets once a week, and they’ve given us authority to decide on the loan requests that may be presented.”

“I take it not too many requests go further than Mr. Hook’s office.”

“Not often, unless of course it’s merely a matter of drafting the papers.” Jonah sent Alice a reassuring glance. “When do you open?”

“In a few weeks.” Alice bounced on her heels. “I can hardly stand the wait. Father was a bear about it at first, but now he’s quite reconciled.” She sighed, beaming. “My own sweet millinery, Mr. Hylliard. I do hope you will come by and bring your mother or sister… or wife?”