13

GABE STOOD IN THE ATTIC ROOM at Rylan’s house and peered at his reflection in the warped full-length mirror. He had to bend to see the top of his hair, which he’d slicked back with some type of pomade Rylan insisted all the stylish gentlemen in New York wore. Gabe attempted to adjust his bowtie but finally gave up getting it any straighter.

He turned to collect his wallet from the nightstand and noticed the letter still sitting there. With a heavy heart, he picked up the envelope, the weight of the words it contained adding to his unease. His mother had written of the increasing unrest at home and her worry that if things should escalate to civil war, his two older brothers would join the fight. What would happen to his mother if Tommy and Paddy left? Just when Gabe had been entertaining the idea of extending his stay in America, circumstances at home begged his presence.

Mentally, Gabe berated himself for getting caught up in the ease of life in America. His work at the fire station and the beautiful Aurora had pulled his attention from the plight of his fellow countrymen. How could he forget the strife happening back home? From now on, he would keep that at the forefront of his thoughts—that and his intent to get back home as soon as possible.

He sighed and slipped the envelope under his pillow. He would put this worry out of his mind for now and try to enjoy the evening with Aurora and her family.

Gabe descended to the main level and entered the kitchen.

Colleen turned from her position at the stove. “My, you look handsome. Rylan’s suit is perfect on you.”

Gabe gave a mock bow. “A sacrifice I’m willing to make to eat at the famous Vanderbilt Hotel.” And to impress the lovely Aurora. The mere thought of sharing a fine meal with her in a date-like setting made his pulse gallop.

Colleen laid a wooden spoon on the stovetop and wiped her hands on her apron. “Why do you think Mr. Hastings invited you to dinner?”

“I’m sure it’s to thank me for helping save his . . . house from the fire.” Wiser to keep Aurora out of the conversation. No use giving his sister-in-law fodder for her overactive imagination.

“But why you? Why not Chief Witherspoon or the other firemen?”

Gabe shifted in his brother’s shoes, which pinched at the toes.

“Did he not tell you, my love?” Rylan strode into the kitchen with Delia perched on his shoulders. “Gabe rescued Aurora from her room. No wonder the man wants to thank him.”

Rylan swung Delia to the ground. “Go get washed for dinner, sweetheart.”

Gabe tugged at his bowtie, uncomfortable under Colleen’s speculative stare. A whimper sounded from the basket on the kitchen table, and Colleen moved to scoop up the baby.

Gabe had never been happier to hear an infant cry. “Well, I’d best be off. Don’t want to be late.”

“Heavens no. What would Aurora think of you then?” Colleen’s laughter followed Gabe out the door.

By the time he reached the impressive entrance to the Vanderbilt Hotel, where wealthy patrons swept past him through the massive main doors, nerves swamped Gabe’s stomach. What was he doing pretending to belong in such luxury? He came from a small village where most of his friends lived in thatched cottages, farmed sheep, and met in the pub for a pint after dinner.

Gabe squared his shoulders and, with as much confidence as he could muster, walked into the lobby, where the ornate splendor flabbergasted him. Gleaming marble and crystal reflected light off every surface. Men and women sat on the elegant settees and strolled about the spacious halls. Gabe shook off his awestruck demeanor and headed to find the dining room.

The maître d’ lifted his nose at Gabe. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m expected for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Hastings.”

The man inclined his head. “Very good. Follow me.”

Conscious of all eyes in the room watching him, Gabe fought the urge to straighten his tie again. They weaved through a maze of tables until at last the man stopped. “Here is your party, sir.”

“Thank you.” Gabe wondered if he was expected to tip the man, but since he had no ready cash, he focused on the people at the table.

Mr. Hastings, a short, stout man with a handlebar mustache—exactly like in his portrait in the fire station—rose to shake Gabe’s hand. “Mr. Montgomery. So glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for the invitation, sir.” Gabe shook his hand, resisting the temptation to gawk at Aurora as she and her mother came toward him.

“Allow me to introduce my wife, Dorothy.”

Gabe bowed over the older woman’s hand. She was handsome for her age, with tidy brown hair swept back from her face and twinkling blue eyes. Gabe could see where Aurora got the bones of her beauty.

“And of course you’ve met my daughter.”

Aurora’s beaming smile lit up the room. She looked as beautiful as a painting in a yellow gown, her golden curls arranged atop her head.

“It’s grand to see you again, Miss Hastings. You ladies look lovely this evening.”

Mrs. Hastings tittered like a young girl. “My, my. Such a charming accent.”

From the corner of his eye, Gabe caught the irritated expression on Mr. Hastings’s face.

Aurora’s mother laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so glad I can finally thank you in person, Mr. Montgomery. You have no idea how worried we were about our daughter when we received word of the fire.”

Gabe fought the heat creeping into his cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Hastings. I’m only glad I was there to help.”

They took their seats, and a waiter appeared instantly, as though he’d been lurking around the corner, waiting for his cue.

“Please allow me the liberty of ordering for you, young man. I’m sure you’re not used to restaurants such as this back in your country.”

Gabe waited a beat until Mr. Hastings spared him a glance. “I will defer to your good opinion, sir.”

“We enjoy the duck here. The cook does an excellent job.”

Though Gabe would have preferred a thick steak, he didn’t contradict his host.

After the orders had been placed, Mrs. Hastings made a fairly obvious attempt to direct the flow of conversation, asking Gabe many questions about life in Ireland. With each response, Gabe got the distinct impression from the scowl on Mr. Hastings’s face that he was saying something terribly wrong. Why had the man invited him here if he clearly disapproved of Gabe?

Only Aurora’s rapt attention made the dinner bearable. Gabe couldn’t help but wish they were sharing the meal alone, at a private table.

When they’d finished a delicious dessert of crème brûlée, Arthur Hastings patted a napkin to his mustache and cleared his throat. “So tell me, Gabriel, when do you return to Ireland?”

The man couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d ordered him aboard the next ship leaving the harbor. Gabe’s attention swung to Aurora, who had gone pale. He tried to reassure her with a smile. “My sister, Maggie, and I are here for the summer. We have return passage for the end of August.”

A shuttered look came over Mr. Hastings’s features. “How lucky for your family that you’re able to manage such a long visit. I’m surprised your employer is willing to hold your position for you.”

Gabe set down his teacup with a noisy clink. “I guess that’s the advantage of living in a town where everyone knows one another. Mr. Connors is not just my employer; he’s one of my best friends and more than happy to keep my job for me.”

An uncomfortable silence descended.

“That type of community sounds wonderful,” Aurora said too cheerfully. “We have a similar close-knit feeling in our Long Island neighborhood where we spend the summer.”

Gabe smiled again, to let her know he was grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. “Aye, I witnessed that the night of the O’Learys’ party. Though our houses back home are nowhere near as grand as Irish Meadows.”

“More like cottages, aren’t they?” Condescension dripped from Mr. Hastings’s voice.

Gabe’s hand stilled on his fork as he fought back a sarcastic retort.

Aurora leaned forward, her eyes darting from her father to him. “I’m sure your home is lovely, Gabe.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Hastings added. “I’ve heard the scenery is breathtaking. I hope to travel to Ireland one day when Arthur retires.” She laughed, as if not expecting that day to come anytime soon.

“I doubt you’ll ever get Papa on a ship across the ocean, Mama. Not after the Titanic.”

“You’re right about that, daughter.” Mr. Hastings pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “I believe I must call it a night.” He turned and extended his hand. “Thank you again for all you did for my daughter during the fire, Mr. Montgomery. I wish you a pleasant stay and a safe trip back to Ireland.”

Did Gabe imagine the implied threat in the strength of his grip and his unsmiling countenance? Why bother to buy him dinner and thank him for his service if he obviously found Gabe so distasteful?

Gabe tensed. Could his admiration for Aurora be evident to her father? Perhaps the real reason for this invitation was to send a clear message to Gabe that his daughter was off-limits.

Gabe retrieved his hat from the vacant chair beside him and bowed to Mrs. Hastings and to Aurora. “Good evening, ladies. Thank you for the pleasure of your company.”

Mr. Hastings clapped a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’ll walk you out. Dorothy, Aurora, I will see you upstairs shortly.”

Gabe swallowed and wished he could loosen his tie. Before following Mr. Hastings across the room, he allowed himself one last look at Aurora, whose misery shone in her gaze. Not wanting to leave her upset, he winked at her, gratified to see her lips tilt and an attractive blush steal over her cheeks. “I hope to see you again, Miss Hastings.”

“Likewise, Mr. Montgomery.” A worried frown still creased the space above her pert nose.

With reluctance, he forced himself to walk away. He found Mr. Hastings waiting in the lobby and approached him with caution, unsure what to expect. “Thank you again, sir, for an evening I shall not soon forget.”

The man did not smile. “Just so we’re clear, Mr. Montgomery, I expect this to be the last time you have any contact with my daughter. While I appreciate your . . . concern . . . for her well-being, I’m sure you realize that any type of friendship between you would be inappropriate.”

A burst of indignation heated Gabe’s veins. “What about it would be inappropriate?”

The man raised a brow, clearly taken aback by Gabe’s challenge. “There’s no point in forming attachments when you live halfway around the globe. Besides, I expect to announce Aurora’s betrothal to a suitable candidate by the end of the summer.”

The flame of Gabe’s temper burned higher. Only supreme self-control held his tongue in check. The man was, after all, Aurora’s father, and Gabe would do nothing to cause her grief.

“You’ve made your position very clear.” Gabe set his bowler on his head and adjusted the angle. “I’ll not seek Aurora out, but if I happen to run across her during my travels, I will not ignore her.” He tipped his hat. “Good night.”

He strode out the main door before Mr. Hastings could say another word. Once outside, Gabe immediately ripped off his tie and stuffed the offending piece of material into his pocket. The cool evening air washed over him as he stalked away, frustration pumping with every step. When he happened to glance at one of the windows as he passed, its surface reflected a person Gabe barely recognized. The manicured man in the glass was not him. With a growl, he raked his fingers through his stiffened hair until he managed to dislodge some pieces, which fell over his forehead. What a farce this whole night had been. Dressed like a dandy, trying to pretend he was something he was not—for all the good it had done.

The image of Brigid’s face came to mind. No, he was done twisting himself into knots to impress a woman. It wasn’t worth it.

This was just the thing he needed to put his goals into perspective. He could not afford to be distracted by a passing flight of fancy.

His homeland and his family needed him far too much for that.

Aurora paced the plush carpet of the hotel suite, sure the steam of her anger must be escaping from her ears. Never had she been more humiliated by her father’s boorish behavior. His tone throughout the evening had dripped with condescension. Surely Gabe must have noticed it, too.

Aurora stopped at the window and pushed aside the curtain, straining to catch a glimpse of Gabe as he walked home. In the darkness, she couldn’t distinguish one figure from another. With a sigh, she returned the curtain to its proper place. What could be keeping Papa? Had he stopped at the men’s lounge for a brandy? It was entirely possible.

No matter, she would wait as long as it took. Thank goodness her mother had claimed exhaustion and gone straight to bed. Aurora wanted to talk with her father alone, without her mother’s constant efforts to keep the peace.

The door to the suite opened, and her father entered. He removed his hat and set his decorative walking cane in the stand by the door.

“Aurora, I thought you’d have retired by now.”

She moved toward him, allowing her anger to compensate for the sudden rush of nerves. “I wish to speak with you, Papa.”

He tugged his vest into place and strode across the room to the small table near the fireplace, where he picked up his favorite pipe. “What about?”

She folded her arms in front of her. “About the rude way you treated Gabe.”

“In what way was I rude to Mr. Montgomery?” He lit a match and applied the flame to his pipe.

“You know very well how. Your condescending attitude was humiliating—to Gabe and to me. Why did you ask him to dine with us, only to treat him like a peasant?”

He leveled her with an unapologetic stare. “That is precisely the reason. In case the young buck had any ideas about you, I felt it my place as your father to make sure he knows his.”

She’d expected him to argue, to claim he’d done nothing wrong. But to hear him actually admit his shameful scheme left Aurora speechless.

Papa blew out a stream of smoke. “And in the event that all my subtle hints went unnoticed, I made sure Mr. Montgomery got my point quite clearly on the way out.”

She curled her hands into fists at her sides. “What did you say to him?”

“Just what I’m about to tell you. You are to have no further contact with that young man. He is off-limits to you.”

A squeak of protest escaped Aurora’s constricted throat.

“To make sure he understood, I told him I would be announcing your betrothal by the summer’s end.” Papa pulled his pipe from between thinned lips. “Enough is enough, Aurora. You have wasted your life for the last three years. It’s time to grow up and choose a suitable husband. If you can’t do it, I’m sure I can come up with someone.”

He settled on the sofa and opened his newspaper, effectively dismissing her.

Aurora stood, angry breath heaving in her chest. She longed to lash out, to scream her outrage until her father was forced to listen. But there was no use arguing with Papa when he was in this stubborn frame of mind. Instead, Aurora retreated to her bedroom and flung herself on the bed to contemplate her next course of action.

Come the morrow, she would talk to Dr. Reardon and push ahead with her application to nursing school.

And when the time was more favorable, she’d break the news to her father.

Moonlight illuminated Maggie’s way as she descended to the main level of the silent house and entered the empty kitchen. Not wishing to brighten the whole room, she lit a single candle and set the holder beside the stove.

She had no idea of the time, only that she’d been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. Thoughts of Neill had plagued her since their encounter in the park, and she’d come to the unhappy conclusion that since it appeared Neill had no intention of returning to Ireland, she could no longer put off telling her brothers.

Tomorrow when they were all together, she would break the news.

The clock in the parlor chimed the hour. Maggie counted the tolls, surprised to find it was only eleven o’clock. She took a bottle of milk from the icebox and poured a small amount into a saucepan, setting it to heat on the stovetop. Hopefully some warm milk would allow her to fall asleep before midnight.

The front door opened, and seconds later Gabe appeared in the kitchen. “Maggie.” He looked startled to see her up.

“That must have been some dinner to be coming home at this hour.”

Instead of smiling, Gabe frowned. “I’ve been walking for hours. Not that it helped clear my mind any.”

Maggie took in his disheveled hair and clothing, and a thread of worry invaded her heart. She lifted the pot from the heat. “Did you not enjoy your evening with the Hastings family?”

Gabe ran a hand through his already-messy hair. “Not really, no.”

Rylan had told her that Mr. Hastings wanted to thank Gabe for rescuing his daughter. What could have gone wrong? Maggie took out two mugs and divided the warm milk between them. “Did the Vanderbilt Hotel fail to meet your expectations?”

Gabe sank onto one of the kitchen chairs. “The hotel is beautiful.”

“Was Miss Hastings not appreciative of your heroics?” Again her attempt to tease Gabe into a better humor fell flat.

He sent her a heated glare. “Aurora was perfect. Her father, on the other hand, was a pompous boar.” He picked up his cup and drained the contents in one gulp.

Maggie sat down and waited for him to elaborate.

“It seems Mr. Hastings’s purpose in inviting me to dinner was to lord his wealth over me in an attempt to warn me away from his daughter.” He thumped the mug down on the table.

Maggie took a thoughtful sip of the warm drink. “You’re only here for the summer. Why would he be worried about that?”

A flush infused Gabe’s cheeks.

“You wouldn’t be daft enough to start something with her, would you?” Her traitorous thoughts flew at once to Adam. It seemed she needed to take her own advice.

“What’s the point since we’re leaving?” A nerve ticked in his jaw. “I just hated the way the man treated me like I was lower than a servant.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “Well, I, for one, know what a fine man you are. You did his family a favor. Let that be the end of it.”

Gabe’s stubborn gaze slid to the far wall, telling Maggie that it was not the end of it. Not by a country mile.

Just as it wasn’t the end with Neill. Why were affairs of the heart so complicated?

For a moment, Maggie considered confiding her worries to Gabe, but from the grim set of his mouth, she decided it was not the right time. Best to approach her brothers when they were in a good humor.

With any luck, she would tell them tomorrow—before Neill had a chance to accost her again.