The Only Gold (28 page)

Jonah let loose a soft laugh. “You may consider the rule unamended. Thank you.”

“No need. We want a photograph suited to a national bank, and I’ve made sure we’ll have one.”

“You mean—”

“Mr. Campbell was not particularly happy, but he complied. Even better, we decided on supper at Delmonico’s. Steak and potatoes. You’ll be good as new.”

“And whose idea was that?” The last clerk had gone, and Jonah brushed an affectionate hand over Reid’s disheveled hair. “I’m all right, you know.”

Reid’s gaze narrowed. “You realize you’re breaking your own rule.”

“Ah, but you haven’t realized that you may always know when someone’s coming in. Hear that? That floorboard in the hall has been loose for years.”

The door opened and Simon entered, glum-faced. As he passed on the way to the washroom, he mumbled a good morning.

Jonah gave Reid a faint smile. “Good morning, Mr. Campbell. And thank you.”

Simon answered grudgingly. “Yes, sir. Glad you’re well.”

“I am. Mr. Campbell, you may wear the cutaway to work—”

Simon swung around, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“On Saturdays,” Jonah said.

Simon cast an entreating glance at Reid, who only smiled. “Does that strike you as unfair?”

“Not at all, sir.”

When Simon had gone into the washroom, Jonah fixed a wary eye on Reid. “You took my side, though you don’t agree with me.”

“I’ll allow there’s no harm in innovating at a slower pace now and then.”

“That’s all of it?”

“You wanted something more?”

Jonah gave in to a smile. “I think you’ve grown too fond of bewildering me.”

“Proof enough how well you know me,” Reid said, meeting his smile with a grin. “Here….” He held out a comb. “And take off your specs. It will make a better picture.”

If Jonah was unsettled in mind and heart, he was at least whole in body and presentable by the time the officers, directors, and staff gathered in front of the building to preserve the occasion for posterity. The photographer ordered everyone into tidy rows on the steps, a measure upset by some fuss over seniority by the clerks and further fuss as Mr. Grandborough began to move everyone around to suit him. Jonah found it rather amusing until he was pulled to stand between Horace Naughton and Reid. He started to protest, but Mr. Grandborough had already moved up to straighten out the clerks. Jonah turned to Reid. “We must switch places or they’ll mistake me for cashier.”

“If you frown like that, they’re sure to.” Reid reached over and took his glasses, pocketing them. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Jonah shot him an exasperated look and turned to Mr. Naughton to point out the error—too late, as the photographer called for quiet and took the picture. When it was done, Jonah entreated Mr. Grandborough to take another. “It may not matter to Mr. Hylliard, but he is cashier, and the photograph must bear that out.”

Mr. Grandborough exchanged a fleeting smile with Mr. Naughton. “Fair enough.” He turned to the staff and directed everyone to maintain their places. Reid stepped in beside Mr. Naughton, and a second photograph was taken. Reid made no mention of it until supper, when, invited by Mr. Grandborough to say a word, he joked that the bank had two cashiers and the photographic evidence to prove it. The look he threw Jonah’s way was full of the old Reid—sly, overconfident, carefree. Affection, banked deeper, was not as well concealed as it should have been. But it went unnoticed as, amid laughter and applause, Reid sat and Mr. Grandborough turned an expectant gaze on Jonah.

A sudden quiet fell, with a quality somewhere between respect and uneasiness. Jonah supposed they thought he was still hurt that Reid had been the one to usher in the new era. And, truthfully, the hurt lingered, occasionally making itself felt; though it was a waning sensation crowded by a host of new ones. He stood, and at Reid’s smile, remembered to smile himself.

“When I started at Grandborough fourteen years ago, I had every confidence in its success and mine. Of course, who isn’t confident of success at nineteen? When I advanced from runner to clerk to teller, I was honored by the trust invested in me and fired to live up to it. I raced along, perhaps a little too caught up by the goal, and not prepared to stumble. It was painful. I will admit that. But I’ve come to appreciate its necessity.” He smiled wryly. “It seems I must be well past the learning before I can recognize the lesson being taught—or the teacher.”

He settled a gaze on Reid and found it difficult to contain his own affection. “There is after all more to banking than managing the bank. I only want to say….” He looked around, aware of their smiles, and feeling strangely self-conscious. “Well, I just mean to say that I’m proud of our accomplishments. I’m proud to work beside every one of you.”

The burst of energetic applause startled him, but he managed to conceal that. If they didn’t know what to make of everything he’d said, they were willing to take it with the good will always at hand on a day of celebration. But his certainty that he’d given a good account of himself faded rather suddenly at the distant, troubled light in Reid’s eyes.

Jonah
had no chance to ask what bothered him, not until well after midnight, in a cab on the way to the hotel. “I keep breaking my own rule, don’t I?”

Reid blinked, as if rousing from a deep study, and turned to him with a gaze so searching, Jonah wondered what he might have done in addition to letting his feelings show. “I don’t believe anyone noticed—”

“No one noticed,” Reid said. “Jonah, I need to tell you something.”

Uneasy, he tried to smile. “You didn’t care for my speech?”

“I did. That’s why I need to tell you….” Reid glanced toward the driver’s perch. “I think it should wait until we reach the hotel. Will you stay the night?”

“We’ve work tomorrow,” Jonah said.

Reid smiled. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Well, it may depend on what you want to talk about.”

Though Jonah spoke lightly, Reid’s smile faded. “It may.”

Silence descended and Jonah considered pressing for an explanation. But Reid seemed all the more withdrawn, so he waited until they were safe behind the hotel room door, shades down, and coats shed. Reid sat on the bed, then dropped back on it. He exhaled, a weary sound, but smiled when Jonah sat beside him. “You don’t know what a saving grace it’s been for me, to have these evenings alone with you.” He wrapped a hand around Jonah’s wrist and dragged him down to the coverlet.

Jonah sprawled over him, relaxing as Reid’s arms came around him. Whatever was wrong, it was nothing he’d done, apparently. “You’re worried about the deposit.”

“Frankly, yes. But—”

“It has been planned to the last detail.” Jonah kissed him. “We have additional security. The police will be out in force all day Saturday, until the deposit is in the vault and the time lock set. It will go flawlessly, I promise you.”

Reid seemed to relax. “You’re certain of it, aren’t you?”

“You said it yourself. I’m not one to take risks. I’ve been as careful in the planning of this venture as any officer in the bank.”

The searching light returned. “I was wrong,” Reid said quietly after a moment. “You’ve taken one damned substantial risk.”

“Being involved with you?”

“Handing over your heart.”

Jonah raised an eyebrow. “Very sure of yourself, as usual.” That provoked a low laugh, and Jonah was glad to feel more of the tension ease from the limbs wrapped around him. “The damnable thing is—you’re invariably right.”

“Good. That’s the one thing I most wanted to be right about.”

Jonah smiled. “Does everything come to you so easily?”

“Easy? You?” Reid snorted. “Jonah—”

“Jo.”

Reid’s narrowed gaze could not mask an elated light. “You’re just trying to prove me wrong.”

Jonah laughed. “That’s part of it. But only a very small part.” His kiss encouraged more, and Reid took his breath away. Wrapped in the feel of Reid’s mouth on his, demanding one minute, tender the next, Jonah only belatedly noticed he was still dressed. Consumed with the need to press hands to bare skin, he felt blindly for buttons, losing them when Reid pushed him onto his back and landed on him with the apparent intent of ravaging him despite the clothes. The press of a leg crushing an already trapped erection nearly finished him. “I’ll not be able to leave in a decent condition,” Jonah whispered, gasping.

“No. You’ll have to stay.” Reid pulled away tie and collar, and buried his face in Jonah’s neck, searing his skin with kisses and, more than once, a graze of teeth, as if fighting the desire to devour him. Jonah grabbed handfuls of the shirt bunched under the hem of Reid’s waistcoat and dragged it loose to lay hands on heated skin. It wasn’t enough, but buttons were no longer within his ability. Thankfully, they were still within Reid’s, who had clearly given up on all but the trouser buttons, and with just moments to spare as the first few strokes from encompassing fingers sent Jonah over the edge. At the bolt of pleasure, he stopped breathing—then gasped as sensation sharpened and spread. Reid, stretched out against him, groaned aloud; in his tightened grip, Jonah shuddered with a final convulsive throb.

Pleasure fading, a blissful warmth pooled through him, and he woke to Reid’s breath hot and fast against his neck. Jonah applied himself to the pertinent row of buttons, to take in hand a ready erection. Reid twisted with mad strength, and Jonah firmed his grip, absorbed by the heat pulsing against his palm and the soft, desperate gasps in his ear. Reid’s arms surged around him, hanging on, and the heat became liquid silk sliding over Jonah’s fingers. When Reid slumped against him and laid a hand on Jonah’s cheek, brushing a kiss on the other one, not even the discomfort of damp, disheveled clothes could keep Jonah from lingering in the close embrace.

Morning
came with unsympathetic speed, and pressed comfortably against a hotter clay than any brick, Jonah did not want to move. But work called, and Reid seemed cheerier, so not even a rainy Saturday nor a dip in the temperature could dishearten him. He went home for a change of clothes, but before he could leave for the bank, a timid rap sounded at his door. The excuses he had pieced together fled his thoughts as he found Winnie on the other side. She was wringing her hands, her soft gaze uncertain, and Jonah wondered uneasily what it meant.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” Jonah said, and Winnie glanced down the hall as if she feared being overheard. “Winnie, what’s the matter?”

She looked at him, still hesitant. “Might I talk to you?”

“Of course. Would you like to come in?”

He held open the door, and she peered inside. “Will it be all right?”

“This is your house,” Jonah said, smiling.

Winnie stepped gingerly into the room, and as Jonah began to close the door, raised a hand. “Do leave it open, dear. Edith is sensitive about… well, you know. Rumors. And reputations.”

“Quite reasonably.”

“Yes.” She seemed to relax. “Our great-aunt Maud, this room was hers when I was a little girl. The house was new, then. Have I mentioned it before?”

“When I first moved in.”

“Oh, yes, of course. She was quite exacting too. Edith takes after her.”

Jonah nodded. “Winnie, are you and Edith upset with me, by any chance?”