All in Good Time (The Gilded Legacy) - By Maureen Lang Page 0,6

he did understand, and she was right. Loosening the high collar on his shirt, he stepped farther into the wide foyer and for the barest moment didn’t know whether to turn left into the dining room or right into the parlor. No doubt Mrs. Gio had kept his dinner hot; she was prompt at serving him a full meal no matter what time he arrived.

But he opted for the parlor despite such thoughts. She could serve him in there, with a tray at his most comfortable chair. There was no question about it; Henry felt tired beyond his years.

He didn’t welcome the realization. Admittedly, Henry had been in a hurry to grow up most of his life, but he hadn’t thought to skip his youth for old age. His own father, at age thirty, had worked over the blaze of a smith’s shop from dawn until dark. He’d pounded and forged, creating everything from mundane horseshoes and work tools to the intricate designs of fancy residential gates that graced more than a few houses like the one in which Henry now lived.

His father’s idea of slowing down had been to sell the smithy and open a mercantile next door. Promptly one year into the reduced physical labor, he’d dropped dead. To this day, Henry’s mother still worked long hours in that very shop. What right did Henry have to be tired after a day spent sitting behind a desk?

Only one man could be blamed for wearing Henry down. His uncle, Tobias Ridgeway. The man was like a tick on a dog’s ear, dug in for the duration. Ever since Henry had given him a job at the bank, the man hadn’t stopped bringing in projects for investment. Some had been interesting, like a product called celluloid to be used in place of ivory for billiard balls. A practical idea, until Henry learned that fire and moisture damaged the product. Since anything from a lusty sneeze to a spilled beer or dropped cigar could wreak havoc on what should be a perfectly smooth surface, it soon lost its appeal to even the most frugal billiard hall owners.

Lately Tobias had grown more charitable in his recommendations, something Henry found unaccountably irksome.

Just as Henry settled in his chair, a rap at the door echoed through the empty foyer. He grumbled, recognizing the force behind that rap. Only an arm the size of Uncle Tobias’s could produce such a sound.

He let Mrs. Gio answer, listening through another round of attack on the sturdy, carved wooden door before Mrs. Gio’s halting English welcomed Tobias in. Tobias’s familiarly firm step soon crossed the foyer ahead of his escort, and there he stood, all six burly feet of him. He glowered as if Henry had done something wrong.

“I hava your dinner,” said Mrs. Gio once she caught up to Henry’s guest.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gio,” Henry said briskly, then looked at Tobias. “You’re welcome to half of whatever is on this tray. Mrs. Gio always brings too much.”

“I’ve eaten already,” Tobias said, though even as his mouth uttered the words, Henry could see his nose signaling an altogether different sort of response as Mrs. Gio passed him with the tray.

“Bring another plate, will you, Mrs. Gio?” asked Henry. “And another tray. We’ll stay in here rather than the dining room. I won’t be leaving this chair until I go to bed this evening.”

Mrs. Gio looked pleased at his offer to share the bounty she’d brought, though he guessed she would bring Tobias a tray every bit as filled with the fragrantly spiced and sauced eggplant and plenty of bread to soak up every drop of what she called gravy.

“You left the bank without seeing me.” Tobias used the phrase as an accusation. “Did you forget there was something I wanted to discuss with you?”

By this time in the day, Henry had less patience than ever. Being anything but direct only wasted time. “I assumed it was another attempt to convince me to get involved in the charity work you’ve become enamored of lately. Is it?” A single glance at Tobias’s face told Henry he’d guessed correctly.

It was one thing to offer Tobias a job—out of old affection mixed with an irreducible residue of guilt. Keeping him on had proven a good idea, because other than this occasional lapse into civic risk he was a sound investor. Loans from his desk almost always proved reliable.

But it was something altogether different to go along with every idea Uncle Tobias presented.