by Nhys Glover
Chapter Four
Eilish
She rushed into the sitting room of their suite at Claridges, dizzy with excitement. Quickly scanning the shared sitting room for any sign of Luke, Eilish was pleased to see she had the space to herself. They had moved into the outrageously priced hotel in Mayfair yesterday after a whirlwind shopping spree. The opulence of the private rooms was still hard to get used to. Thank god money wasn’t an issue for them.
Kicking off her uncomfortable, pointy shoes and with hat in hand, she began to dance around the expansive room, singing softly to herself as she went. When the adjacent door opened and she saw Luke standing there staring groggily at her in astonishment, she stopped long enough to grin at him like a loon.
‘Who is he?’
That wiped the smile off her face. For a moment, she was too stunned to react.
‘The man you’ve met. I know that look. Who is he?’
Eilish burst into light, high-spirited laughter. ‘Is this how Faith looked after she met you?’
‘No, Maggie. Faith looked like a deer caught in headlights.’
‘Maggie Tasmania? Oh yes, that’s right. You were with her when she met Travis. Now that is a beautiful man! Have you seen his performance art?’
‘Faith tried to drag me there once but it ain’t my cuppa tea. I let her go on her own to ogle his tight arse.’
‘Jealous, Luke? I would think you would feel pretty safe where Faith is concerned. Everyone knows she thinks the sun shines out of every pore on your body.’
‘Don’t change the subject. Who’ve you met? And it better not get in the way of the mission.'
Eilish frowned as she considered his words. Would it interfere with the mission? It was against Protocol to get involved with a Target but there were precedents for it – Faith and Luke, for instance. Even though, technically, he wasn’t her Target. She’d Retrieved him to save his life after he was mortally wounded saving hers from the Nazis.
‘I do not know if there is anything there yet, but I felt something. My god, for the first time in my very long life I felt something. And I think he felt it too. I cannot believe how fast this feeling has hit me. One minute I am sexless. The next I am so sexually charged I am out of control.’
‘That's the way it happens for you Old Timers. It's like a button gets pressed from “off” to “on” with no middle ground, and your wits go south with it too, way south, which could be a big problem for the mission. So I've gotta ask you again, who is he?’ Luke demanded impatiently, scrubbing his hands through his sleep-tousled hair.
He was not sleeping well in the luxurious accommodation and had decided to stay in bed that morning while she was out making first contact with their Target. Eilish thought his sleep problems had something to do with missing Faith and Bart.
‘Our Target, Max Ingham,’ she finally brought herself to say.
‘I thought he was gay.’ Luke plonked himself on the silk covered smoking chair beside the low burning fire the maid had lit some hours before and sprawled out, toasting his bare feet.
Eilish’s felt her eyes pop open wide in astonishment. ‘What gave you that idea? He’s married, after all.’
Luke lifted one eyebrow in cynical response. ‘Since when did that mean anything to people who wanted to stay out of prison? Homosexuality was illegal until 1965 here, and the ‘80s elsewhere in the UK. Our Mr Ingham seems to fit the profile. He didn’t marry until he was thirty-eight. He’s described as mild-mannered and diplomatic, when he ain’t in front of a judge. He sponsors the arts and he packed up and took a trip – what could have been a romantic trip – on the Titanic, without his wife. Not the actions of a devoted new husband.’
‘When did you become the expert on gays? And I will remind you that the Inghams have been married nearly two years. Not exactly newlyweds. And from what he said today, he has no intention of sailing on the Titanic. He is planning to take in the Season with his wife.’
‘So, not gay. But if he’s happily married, why’re you all giddy over him?’
Eilish sat heavily on the overstuffed chaise-longe on the other side of the fire. ‘I do not know. It just seems right. He does not seem like a happily married man. Not like you. He flirted with me, and I gained the distinct impression that flirting is not something that comes naturally to him. He blushed when I first walked in. It was delightful!’
‘Gay. He obviously doesn’t know how to relate to women.’
She sighed heavily, looking to the ornate ceiling above for spiritual guidance. ‘Have it your own way. Does it really matter? I am having dinner with him at his club this evening.’
That got her partner’s attention. Luke sat up abruptly and stared at her like she was some exotic bird that had just flown in the window. ‘Oookay, how’d you swing that?’
‘I was able to get in to see him under my cover as a journalist and we talked a little over tea. Then he had an appointment, so he invited me to dinner at his club to continue our interview. Do you know he has two Monet’s on his wall? Not well-known ones, but they are certainly beautiful examples of his work. Who has Monet’s on their wall?’
‘Who the hell is Monet?’ Luke went back to lounging again.
‘Just one of the greatest painters of the time! Impressionism was revolutionary and it heralded in the age of non-representational art.’
‘I like to know what I’m lookin’ at, Irish. That weird stuff is not art to me.’
‘Monet is not weird stuff. His paintings are beautiful. And Max’s paintings are stunning. He bought them in Paris a few years ago because he liked them. He does not even know what he has!’
‘Whatever you say,’ he finished the line of discussion with obvious disinterest. ‘I’ll take you to this dinner and wait for you outside. I don’t want you out at night on your own.’
Eilish threw herself to her feet with a huff. ‘Luke, I am not a child. I have been doing this longer than you have been alive.’
Luke began to rub at his wrists distractedly. ‘And in all those years did you ever learn to defend yourself?’
‘I never had to. The world is not the dangerous place you think it is.’
‘That’s what Faith thought before her partner was shot in the back and she was almost tortured and killed by Nazis.’
‘This is Edwardian London not Nazi occupied Poland!’
‘Danger is everywhere, doll. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away; it just puts you more at risk.’ He held out his hands to the fire in frustration and then began to work the bones in his wrists again.
‘What’s wrong with your hands?’ Eilish finally became aware that Luke’s pig-headedness might have more to do with some physical ailment than their Jump.
‘Nothin’, just some arthritis the medics say. Only to be expected with all the Jumping I’ve done in the last five years. Body’s degenerating fast. Faster than the clones.’
‘So, if it is giving you trouble, why Jump this time in your Original? You could have transitioned into a clone in plenty of time.’
‘Not sure I’m goin’ to transition. Livin’ inside one of those things… it’s not right for me.’
Eilish sat down again slowly, every sense alert to what she was hearing. ‘Are you saying you are going to let yourself die rather than take a clone body?’
The big man across from her shrugged and turned to stare into the flames. ‘There’s no tellin’ I could do it. I might Crash and Burn. I’m not the most mentally flexible individual.’
‘Maybe not, but you have the willpower of a bull. You are talking about leaving Faith and Bart alone. How can you even consider it?’
Luke rubbed his face with his obviously aching hands. ‘I’ve got some time left still. They say my internals are about equal to a sixty-year-old. If I quit Jumpin', I’d have maybe twenty good years left with them, long enough to see Bart grown.’
‘I cannot believe you are even considering that! For one thing, life would be a living hell for you without the excitement of Jumping. And secondly, twenty y
ears is no time at all. I should know! It passes in an instant. And you have to know that your relationship with Faith will suffer. Sexually, I mean. And how could you even consider leaving her when you do not have to!’
‘Irish, just leave it, will you? This is my crap, not yours. It has nothing to do with our mission.’
‘That is why you are so blasé about the possibility of not coming home from this Jump. You have already given up! I cannot believe you!’
‘Mind your business, Eilish!’ Luke roared at her, jumping to his feet and storming from the room.
For several minutes after the sound of the slamming door faded, Eilish stood her ground in utter, helpless rage. What kind of coward was he to be willing to throw everything away like that? If she had the kind of love Luke and Faith had, she’d fight tooth and nail to keep it. She’d eat human flesh or worms; she'd crawl through an open sewer… anything! Having your consciousness moved into a new body was nothing. Less than nothing. So the clones were lifeless lumps of flesh and bone before Integration, and they had to be kept on life-support until they were put to use. What did it matter if it meant you had the chance at immortality? She had integrated eight times and was on her ninth life. Before Jac Ulster broke the Nine Life Rule to stay with his Cara, this would have been considered her last life, but she had no desire to give up now. All the changes that were taking place in New Atlantis made it a place of unlimited potential. They had new citizens from a variety of backgrounds, they had children and they were regenerating their ecosystems from the seeds from the past. It was a magical time to be alive.
That Luke couldn’t see all that; that he didn’t feel it… seemed like a form of blasphemy. Suddenly, he didn’t seem the larger-than-life hero she had taken him for. John Wayne wouldn’t have thrown his life away for nothing.
The hotel’s lady’s’ maid arrived at six to help her dress. It took quite a lot of insisting to get it through to the girl that she didn’t want her swan bill corset cinched up so tightly she could hardly breathe. Instead, she allowed just enough support to create the odd appearance these Edwardian women seemed intent on creating. To her they all looked as if they were top-heavy Barbie dolls, about to fall flat on their gigantic breasts. The aforesaid breasts were pushed into an oddly low position, like the unsupported bosom of a matron.
The layer-upon-layer of clothing she had to don seemed to go on forever and was heavily scented with violet water. The only saving grace was the delicate, silk stockings that were a pleasure to slip on.
When they had negotiated to a standstill over the different undergarments, the girl reluctantly helped her on with the oriental dressing gown that passed for the latest fashion. It was made of heavy, blue silk with a white border and belt and had wide cuffed sleeves which she hoped wouldn’t droop into her meal. The stiff lace collar started to chafe at her neck the moment the dress was buttoned up.
Then, for another half an hour, Eilish let the girl tease and crimp her hair into a Gibson Girl impersonation, with a swath of peacock feathers fanning down over the left side of her pompadour and reaching to the very edge of her face. Passingly, Eilish wondered if the feathers had been fumigated or whether she would start itching from bugs they carried half way through the meal.
Then came the makeup, to which Eilish again took exception, especially the little pot of ‘enamel’ that would make her skin as pale as a geisha's and she knew contained poisonous lead. Instead, she opted for a little rice powder, rouge and scarlet geranium petals rubbed across her lips. She refused outright the belladonna drops that would have dilated her pupils.
Earlier in the day, she had spent time having her fingernails manicured and buffed. Considering she wore gloves most of the time, this seemed an irrelevant addition to her toilette. However, one thing Eilish prided herself on was getting as realistic an impression of life in other times as she could. If that meant spending hours at a time primping mindlessly, then that was what she would do. It certainly beat reading Luke’s Penny Dreadfuls, at any rate. Of course, Varley, the Vampire had been replaced by more up-to-date literature after their shopping spree, and while she sat through the painfully dreary process of dressing, Luke lounged beside the fire in the sitting room with one of his books.
When she was ready, she left her bedroom to meet her companion. Luke’s double take at her appearance almost made her laugh. Even so, she was still angry with him after their earlier confrontation and so she wasn’t ready to let her guard down quite yet. She felt, in a way, as if she was fighting for Faith’s happiness.
When the maid had bobbed a curtsey and left the room, Eilish rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘You look ridiculous, but probably the height of fashion. The colour suits you.’
‘Thank you, I guess. Are you ready? We are walking?’
‘Yeah, I looked at the map and this club’s just a block up and around the corner. As long as those pointy shoes don’t cripple you, it shouldn’t be a strain.’
‘I am getting used to the shoes. At first, my toes felt tortured. But I think they are numb now. I should be fine. Do not forget your bowler.’
Luke grumbled as he ran his palms over the pomade to flatten his longish hair and then placed the bowler on top, rakishly angled over his left eye. Then he saluted her with a wink and offered his elbow. With all the grace she could muster, Eilish bowed her head in response and took his arm.
With barely a word exchanged between them, they walked a block of Brook Street along with all the other evening revellers heading for Grosvenor Square. By the time they’d found the club’s discrete but classy entrance, Eilish’s feet were killing her. It wasn’t just the walk, she realised. She had been wearing these awfully uncomfortable shoes for nearly two days now and her arches and toes were not appreciative. Flat sandals or bare feet were what she was used to at home. And even on Jumps, most eras she had spent time in usually had comfortable footwear she could withstand – like sneakers in the latter part of the twentieth century.
‘I’ll go get a meal and then be out here waiting for you when you’re ready. Don’t leave here without me. You clear on that, Irish?’
‘Perfectly. Enjoy your meal and feel free to imbibe a little. It might improve your mood.’
‘I’d tell you to do the same, but you better stay clear-headed. Will you raise the subject tonight?’
‘Not sure. I will play it by ear. Which is what I have done for the last seventy years, I will remind you again.’
‘Yeah, message received loud and clear, doll. Just be careful, okay?’
Eilish nodded and turned to go up the short flight of stairs to the outer doors where a doorman in full livery waited to open the way for her. Drawing in as deep a breath as her corset would allow her, she smiled her greeting to the servant as he ushered her through into the inner sanctum.
Of course, she had read about men’s clubs. However, nothing could have prepared her for the atmosphere once she crossed the threshold. It was like entering a lavish library that smelled of lemon polish and leather. Wood panelling lined every wall, and electric lamps glowed warmly from elaborate sconces attached to the panelling. A wide, but surprisingly steep, staircase was directly in front of her, and the black and white tiled floor beneath her feet had to be marble and onyx.
She was immediately approached by another servant, this time in a white penguin suit, who asked for her name and that of her dinner companion. Then, after being assisted out of her fur, cocoon coat, she was led to a pair of etched glass doors to the right, which led into the only area where a woman was permitted – the dining room.
The ceiling was cluttered with sparkling chandeliers here, which bounced light off every shining surface in the room, especially the silver service. As she glided between the tables covered in white damask, she became aware of the mellow tones of a string quartet playing softly in the background. The room was already quite full, and many heads turned in her direction as she made her way to
ward the handsome, elegantly attired Maxwell Ingham.
When he saw her, he rose and took her hand. ‘Eilish, you look beautiful!’
In the interim hours since their first meeting, she had convinced herself that her initial reaction to this man was not as startling as she had thought. She had even started to wonder whether Luke was right about Max’s gender orientation. Many women had been fooled into falling for men who had no sexual interest in them.
However, as soon as she saw that look in his heavy-lidded hazel eyes, she knew that what he felt for her was not disinterest. His eyes seemed to devour her and she felt breathless under their powerful scrutiny. Whatever had been seeded between them earlier in the day had blossomed into an even more painfully intense electricity that arced between them now.
‘Thank you, Max. You look very handsome too.’ She allowed the maître d'hôtel to seat her and place a damask napkin on her lap.
Max seemed somewhat taken back by her compliment and she wondered if she had made a social blunder. Did women compliment men in this era? Her cultural download provided her with much information, but there were omissions.
‘I hope you do not feel compromised by dining with a married man in this way,’ he said softly, his low-timbered voice scraping pleasantly across her senses. She loved his very formal Etonian accent, which was not too different from what they spoke at home. It might seem starchy to some, but while there was genuine warmth in the tone, she could not call it stuffy.
‘I am a New Woman, Max; such ideas do not concern me. This is a public place. We are doing nothing wrong. What else matters?’
He smiled at her then and she felt her heart skip a beat. It was such a gentle, heart-felt smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and warmed their depths.
‘I am glad. It was not until after you left that I realised I may have inadvertently placed you in an untenable position for your occupation’s sake.’
‘Believe me, my occupation has taken me into many far less savoury situations. I am just happy to be here with you so we can continue our conversation of earlier today.’
‘As am I. I have thought of very little else since our last meeting. My clients today have been somewhat at a loss with my woolly-headed assessments of their cases.’
Eilish felt her face warm with a blush. This open sharing of his feelings was unexpected for one who had seemed so proper. It was probably inappropriate for a married man to say such things. Even so, they warmed her and seemed to describe her own distracted state since they’d met.
‘I do apologise. That was an unsuitable admission. I am finding it hard to decide what to say to you. I have never… felt like this before.’
‘Like what?’ she asked breathlessly.
At that moment, a waiter arrived with the bill of fare and proceeded to pour iced water into glasses.
‘Would sir care to see the wine list?’
‘No, thank you. Just bring us a bottle of your best champagne.’
‘Of course, sir.’
Eilish busied herself with the menu. It was in French and she had to consult her download to translate it.
‘The food here is excellent. They have one of the best French chefs in London. Would you like me to suggest possibilities I think you would enjoy?’
‘Please do. Everything looks so delicious. I must tell you though, I do not have a large appetite so only a few courses will suffice.’
‘Good. Our propensity to consume huge quantities of food is only second to the Ancient Romans. I restrict myself to three courses when I can. It is difficult to do when invited to another’s home. Some of the ton seems intent on competing with each other over the amount of courses they offer. I was at dinner with a certain Duchess last season where there were fifteen courses served. Even eating sparingly, I was so uncomfortable by the end of the evening I could barely move.’
‘When so many are living hand-to-mouth it seems indecent to consume excess quantities of food just for the sake of it,’ Eilish said, hoping she did not offend.
‘I agree completely. And over-eating is not good for your digestion or your general health. Have I talked you out of your meal entirely by now?’
Eilish laughed softly and shook her head. Once more, she found herself caught by the mesmerising effect of his warm gaze. How had she lived so long and never experienced this breathless enchantment?
‘Then I would recommend an entrée of Soufflé au Fromage – a cheese soufflé, very light and mild. For the main course, the Steak au Poivre with Cognac Sauce is an excellent choice – not too peppery. A selection of seasonal vegetables accompanies it. Then for dessert, I suggest the Mousse au Chocolat or a Fromage platter, if you do not have a sweet tooth.’
‘Oh, I definitely have a sweet tooth and have a particular craving for chocolate at any time. That selection sounds perfect.’
When the waiter returned to take their order, Eilish enjoyed their interaction. Rather than treat the man as an insignificant servant, Max called him by name and asked after any specialities of the day that might be of interest. He listened with genuine attentiveness to the man’s expert opinion, but then opted for the courses they had already selected.
‘Do you know all the staff by name?’ she had to ask.
‘Most of them. This is my home away from home; particularly since my marriage … umm… that does my wife a disservice. What I mean is that my work keeps me late most nights and rather than disturb the household, I often eat here before going home. If I am very tardy, I will stay here for the night. Kensington is not far, but it is far enough if I have a late night and an early start planned.’
‘Will you go home tonight?’
‘Yes. My wife has gone to Kent to visit her father. Oh dear, I seem unable to…’
‘Max, please. You do not have to watch your tongue with me. I will not write anything defamatory about you or your domestic situation. That is not the nature of the article. I would prefer it if you spoke honestly rather than politely with me.’
Max’s face showed several emotions in the silence that followed. The first expression was astonishment, the second was disbelief, and the third seemed to be cautious hope, as if he was looking for a trick and yet was desperate for there to be none.
‘I try to always be honest,’ she said again, so that her meaning was clear. ‘Although there are times when honesty does not serve the greater good.’
‘You are a woman after my own heart. There are some men of the law who are accomplished liars and charlatans. I am not one of them. If I do not believe in my client’s case, I do not take it. So saying, I have mastered the art of diplomacy over the years, especially with my wife.’ He stopped and groaned, rubbing his forehead.
‘All right, it is probably becoming clear to you that my marriage is not much more than one of convenience; for my wife’s convenience, rather than my own. We are not happily married. However, up until today, I have not been overly concerned about it. I have never been a particularly hot-blooded man. Maybe my Victorian parents are to blame for that, I do not know. I married Agnes because she seemed to be a damsel in distress and I saw myself as Lancelot or Saint George. Unfortunately, my gallantry was wasted.’
At that moment, the wine waiter arrived and showed Max his selection. They sat in tortured impatience as he opened the champagne with a pop and poured the icy, bubbling liquid into fragile glasses. After tasting the wine, Max gave the man the go-ahead to pour. Then, for several more moments, they sat and drank in silence.
‘Until today?’ Eilish asked finally, picking out the most significant part of the tense speech to focus on. Her voice wobbled unsteadily.
‘Until you walked into my office, to be exact. Please, I do not mean to offend you and I would understand completely if you felt the need to leave immediately. However, I have spent my life constrained by caution and restraint and I am afraid that if I continue in that way, I might lose the only chance for…’
‘Max…’
‘No Eilish, let me finish this
blundering monologue before you make your apologies and leave. I have never felt the need for romantic intimacies. My wife does not care for my attentions, and after the initial rebuff, it did not concern me. Nor have I let my attentions wander elsewhere, until today. I am not inviting you to be my mistress, if that is what you think…’
‘Max, stop.’ Eilish interrupted his tortured speech with some impatience. ‘You do not have to say these things to me. I know you are not a man who takes matters of the heart lightly. That you feel something for me is a compliment unlike any I have ever received.’
‘But?’ He looked at her sadly, resigned to his fate.
‘But I have much to share with you about who I am and what I am really here for. When I have finished, you may no longer feel for me as you do now. If that proves to be the case, I will be greatly saddened, because I, too, have never been hot-blooded, as you put it. I have never been interested in men in that way, before. Before today. Whatever is happening between us, you are not alone in experiencing it.’
‘Oh.’
Eilish laughed a little more loudly than was polite and reached over to place her hand on Max’s. She stroked his long, square fingers with her thumb and felt a frisson of excitement pass between them.
‘Yes, oh.’
‘So… what is it that you are really here for?’
At that moment, the waiter returned to their table with small bowls of piping hot soufflé. Rather than answer his question, she made much of nibbling at her food and sipping the deliciously dry champagne.
As the soufflé melted in her mouth, she groaned softly with delight. Max’s head jerked up from his own plate and she saw something primal flicker behind his eyes. She gasped and gently put her spoon down, before the tremor that ran through her shook the utensil from her grip. What was this heightened emotion that was zinging through the air between them?
Suddenly, the layers of clothing she wore seemed too hot and confining. Her skin prickled.
‘You approve?’ he asked, when he could find his voice. It was slightly croaky, as hers would have been if she’d attempted speech in that moment. Instead, she just smiled and nodded as she took another cheesy morsel into her mouth and let it melt there.
They continued in a sexually potent daze until both bowls were finished. Then Max reached across the table and took her hand. He used his thumb to caress her palm for several moments.
‘Tell me this at least – is there a man to whom you are duty bound?’
‘No man, but I do have a duty to perform. It is that which might cause a breach between us.’
‘If you are a Marxist or a Unionist, there will be no breach…’
She laughed again and turned her hand so she could squeeze his. ‘No, that is not it, and we could play twenty questions all night and you would never guess. So please, let us just enjoy the evening and forget about wives and duty and the future. Let it be enough that we enjoy each other’s company and share this delicious meal while the string quartet serenades us with Mozart.’
‘Though my curiosity is going to drive me mad by the end of the evening, I acquiesce. I cannot think of a more pleasant way to spend my time. Have I told you how lovely you look tonight, even if that outfit might be better suited to the bedroom? Oh… I do apologise; I didn’t mean…’
She watched his face flood with heat. The devil in her wanted to make the heat rise a little higher. ‘It would suit the bedroom, well enough…’
His blush became a flush so brilliant that sweat broke out on his brow. She felt a tremor run down his arm and an answering one shivered through her. Thoughts of being with Max in her bedroom at Claridges and slowly disrobing for him made her blood pound fast and hard. Her teasing had backfired, succeeding in arousing her as much, or maybe more, than her intended victim.
It took the main course, the rest of the champagne and the delicious chocolate mousse before they were comfortable to look at each other again. In the meantime, they talked of politics and reform, of the arts and the latest Somerset Maugham play on the West End. Eilish even managed to introduce the subject of time travel with a well-positioned mention of H G Wells’ Time Machine.
‘The idea is too far-fetched. The possibility of stepping out of the river of time, as Heraclitus describes it, would be problematic at best.’
‘But what if it were possible? What would the future be like do you think?’ she pressed, gaze lifting to meet his again for the first time since her bedroom reference.
‘I have thought a great deal about where our world is going. We have automobiles, flying machines, all manner of new contraptions. Where it will end… I do not know. However, I worry that man is like a child with a loaded gun. He is not equipped to handle the dangers inherent in his inventions.’
‘Yes, I agree with you. The next war will hold that up to all thinking men…’ she shut her mouth suddenly as she realised her slip.
‘Next war?’
‘Yes,’ she floundered. ‘There is bound to be one with the state of the Balkans. And when it comes, all of these new inventions will be brought into play by whichever side can wield them.’
‘You believe the Balkans will lead to imperial involvement?’ His brow furrowed at the thought.
‘When Britain joined the Triple Entente it became inevitable. We will slide into whatever confrontation our allies require.’
‘But surely it safeguards us against the Prussians.’
‘Safeguards or seals our fate? Let us not go there. It makes me sad to think of all those soldiers who will die for nothing.’
‘Nothing? If there is a war, it will not be for nothing.’
‘You believe in war?’
‘I believe in Peace, but accept the necessity of war to safeguard our homes and our families.’
‘With God on your side?’ she asked with heavy sarcasm.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What if the other side believes that same God is on their side? There will come a time when two enemies will sit across from each other, separated only by a desolate stretch of blasted landscape, and both will sing Christmas carols on Christmas Eve to celebrate the birth of the Child of Peace. Whose side is God on then?’
He took the last sip of his champagne, which had long since lost its bubbles, and became thoughtful. ‘Jesus taught us that we must turn the other cheek, but it was also he who expelled the money lenders from the temple by force. I do not know where the line can be drawn between right and wrong, war or peace.’
‘I know what war can do. It is the last recourse.’ Eilish saw the images of her past flash before her eyes. She had been only twelve when the Last Great Plague took 999 of every 1,000 souls still remaining on the planet. Some said it was a biological weapon gone rogue. No one knew for sure. Nevertheless, the devastation of war had never been far away back in that terrible time. Now, standing here in this time before the worst of war had yet to be unleashed on the planet, it was hard to be philosophical about what was to come.
‘You are suddenly very sad, Eilish. Is it the state of your homeland that makes you so melancholy?’
‘My homeland?’ She was startled back to the present by his question. ‘Oh, you mean Ireland? Yes, partly. Never mind. How did we get on to this distressing subject?’
She looked around and noticed that most of the other diners had now left and the waiters were clearing tables.
‘I think it is time for me to go. It has been the most enjoyable evening I have spent in a very long time.’
Max came to her side to help her rise. She was glad of his help. Her head felt light and the ground seemed to be tipping, ever so slightly.
‘Steady there. You stood up too fast,’ Max informed her, drawing her closer to his body to support her. Eilish breathed him in, and the mixture of spicy male scent, leather and tobacco filled her senses.
‘Do you smoke?’ she asked absently, as he led her between the emptying tables.
‘A cigar after a good meal on occasion, that is all.’
‘Hmm… I can smell it on your clothes.’
‘I will have to have words with my Butler if that is the case. He assures me he airs all my jackets.’
‘Oh, do not do that. No one but I would probably notice. My nose is very sensitive to smells of all kinds.’
By the time Max had collected his overcoat and top hat and she her fur cocoon, they had made it outside. The chilly air helped clear her head and Eilish was starting to wonder how she was going to arrange to see Max again. However, the issue was resolved without her involvement.
‘Can I see you again tomorrow night? Possibly to see that Maugham play we spoke of?’
‘I would love to,’ she replied quickly, giving him a delighted smile.
At the bottom of the stairs, they paused. Max looked up and down the quiet street searching for a hansom cab. ‘Can I escort you home?’
‘No… no… I have an escort. There he is!’
Max looked in the direction she indicated and saw Luke prowling toward them, for all the world like a predatory cat. Max tightened his grip on her arm and his body went stiff.
‘It is just Luke. Luke, come and meet Maxwell Ingham. I have told you all about him.’
Luke was several inches taller than Max and somewhat larger in build, but her dinner companion didn’t seem to be cowered by it. Eilish could feel the testosterone simmering and was surprised that she rather enjoyed it. Even so, she hurried to alleviate any misconceptions.
‘Luke is my… associate. His wife is a good friend of mine.’
Both men looked at her as if she had lost her mind and she wondered if she had. Then Max backed down. ‘Well, I will leave you in this gentleman’s capable hands then. Where will I meet you?’
‘Oh, I am staying at Claridges. If you send me a note to tell me what time and what theatre…’
‘No, I will pick you up if you don’t mind. I will send a note to tell you the time. Goodnight, and thank you again for a very pleasurable evening. Luke,’ he nodded at the man who had taken Eilish’s elbow.
‘Bedford… my name is Luke Bedford. Nice to have met you, Ingham. I imagine we’ll see more of each other in the days to come.’
‘Will we?’ The tone in Max’s voice was steely and irritated. It was clear that, no matter what she had said to the contrary, Max saw Luke as competition. Jealousy was an emotion she had little experience with, and it befuddled her now. Why would he be reacting this way when he knew Luke was married? But then, so was he.
A hansom cab was passing and Max hailed it. With a quick nod of farewell, he made his way toward the vehicle and climbed in. They watched him go in silence.
‘Went well then?’
‘Very well. I think I am in love.’
‘Great! Just Dandy!’
