“I thought you were all marvelous to work with, and I’ve always missed being here. I’m truly sorry for my deceit, and I hope we can still be friends.” She turned a bit, indicating Tom with her head, and glanced flirtatiously back at her audience. “You mustn’t blame me for not being able to tell this man I couldn’t work for him when he offered me a job.”
They laughed, and Tom kissed her hand. Then she sat at the table in front, and most of the men she had known gathered around. They spent several minutes catching up with the work of the yard and how their families were doing. They seemed glad to see her, but the awkwardness never quite went away and after a few minutes, she realized that it wasn’t just because they were faced with Casey the girl. She was Miss Wilson, the boss’s fiancée, and any familiarity they had enjoyed before would never completely return.
She stood as the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch break and turned to find herself facing Mike Sloan. When he took her hand, an involuntary shudder went down her back as she remembered that terrifying confrontation the day she was fired. Grateful for the presence of Tom and Lady Pirrie, she tilted her head as he presented a brief bow. His manner was polite, but his look was piercing.
“Thank ye for coming, Miss Wilson,” he told her formally. “It puts the men’s minds at ease.”
She nodded. “Thank you for giving Tom the idea. I enjoyed seeing everyone again.” She met his eyes and decided to call his bluff. “We all live in this town, Mr. Sloan, and we all want to live in peace and raise our children to be happy people. Shall we work toward that goal together?”
Trapped, he let the corner of his mouth twitch once before answering, not without a small threat: “I am at your disposal, Miss. The good, Protestant people of Belfast want nothing more.”
Chapter 23
July 1907
“Lord Dunmore,” Sam said to Tom and Casey at dinner one night, “was delighted to hear about your engagement. He says he has worked with your father on various projects, Tom, so he knows who you are.”
“Oh, indeed.” Tom gave it some thought. “I don’t believe we’ve met, but I remember my father talking about him over the years. He’s been in London for some time, hasn’t he?”
Sam nodded. “My understanding is that he was living there until a couple of years ago. I guess the king asked him to take charge of the telephone company here, to get it on solid ground. Anyway,” Sam continued, “he’s invited us all for dinner this Saturday, if that will be convenient. He’s hosting a few visiting dignitaries, but wanted to fete your engagement, as well.”
“Buttering you up, is he?” Casey asked, making Tom choke a bit in surprise.
Sam laughed, his eyes dancing in amusement. “He is, actually. He sold my water heater design for an obscene amount of money. I’m his new best friend.”
Tom laughed along with them, then pointed his fork at Casey. “You are a cynical person, young lady. Do you always suspect ulterior motives when someone makes a friendly gesture?”
She nodded. “I do, yes. At least, I do when the somebody is a hard-nosed businessman and a lord whatever, as well. Such people normally wouldn’t have an interest in my engagement.”
“You’re hopeless, you know that?”
“I just try to keep everybody honest.”
“Just stay on her good side, Tom.” Sam told him. “I’ve found she can be helpful, at times.”
Given Sam’s new position, Casey supposed it was inevitable that they would run into Colin Riley at some point. On Saturday, they arrived at Lord Dunmore’s soiree, admiring the formal gardens and farmland that surrounded the mansion. Inside, Casey felt as if she were in a museum, and moved with care to avoid the bejeweled statuary and the gleaming white walls with gold-trimmed wainscoting. Lady Dunmore also favored large potted plants, and more than once Casey found herself being tickled by a wayward leaf if she stepped too close.
She was standing near Sam when she saw him straighten, staring ahead with tight lips. She turned to see Dr. Riley standing stiff and angry in front of him. The two of them looked like fighting cocks seizing up the competition.
For a moment, she was just as shocked as they were, her mouth hanging open as she stared at their erstwhile benefactor. Sensing an imminent explosion, she forced herself to step between them.
“Dr. Riley! What a surprise to see you, sir. Have you returned to Belfast, then?”
“Ah, have you already met?” Lady Dunmore had just approached, laying an elegant hand on Dr. Riley’s arm and smiling beatifically at Casey. “It’s so nice when a few of the guests are already acquainted.”
Tom had moved beside Casey, having heard her comment. He reached to shake Dr. Riley’s hand. “Dr. Riley, I’m Tom Andrews, Casey’s fiancé. Sam and Casey have told me all about you. It’s delightful to meet you, at last.”
Sam mentioned later that Dr. Riley did seem to have trouble adjusting to unexpected situations. As when they first met him, he made no response, continuing to shake Tom’s hand while he simply stared. A bemused Lady Dunmore hesitantly asked if anyone wanted a drink.
Dr. Riley recovered a bit. “Thank you, my Lady, a drink would be delightful.” His gaze went back to Tom. “Andrews? Of the Comber Andrews?”
“Aye,” Tom said.
Riley bowed, including Casey in the movement. “My congratulations to you both. If you will excuse me…”
He offered no real excuse, just strolled away, ignoring Sam, who stared after him, dumbfounded. They all did.
Casey broke the silence. “I think the gauntlet has been thrown.”
Tom looked down at her. “What do we do with it?”
They both looked at Sam, who returned their gazes with a twitch of his brow. “Damned if I know,” he said.
For the rest of evening, Sam presented a well-mannered front, gracious to his hosts and friendly with the other guests. He tried unobtrusively to avoid Riley, suspecting that others would attempt to get them together, once it was known they were both physicists. Indeed, a few people mentioned it and offered to introduce them, overtures that Sam declined, mentioning that he had already had the pleasure, and then deflecting the offer, one way or another.
It was not a large crowd, thirty guests altogether. Sam’s dinner partner was Lord Dunmore’s niece, a winsome woman of thirty or so, visiting from London with her young daughter. Riley was further down the table, entertaining the widowed Mrs. Herceforth. Sam could not decide if that was a good thing or not, but knew he would have to deal with whatever occurred. Mrs. Herceforth did love to talk, and since Casey was one of her “projects,” Sam was sure Riley would receive all the details regarding Casey’s recent engagement. As well, Tom was seated across from Riley and so was included often in Mrs. Herceforth’s teasing descriptions of their courtship. Sam could see that Tom was keeping it light, and for the most part, it seemed that Riley was, too. Casey had the fortune to be seated at the other end of the table, with Lord Dunmore.
Before dessert, their host rose and offered toasts to his guests of honor: a visiting earl come to inspect the progress of the telephone company, and the more personal toast to Tom and Casey, announcing his delight in their engagement, as well as his confidence regarding Tom’s growing ability to tell male from female. Even Sam had to laugh at that. Poor Tom would never live it down.
Riley didn’t laugh at all.
“He didn’t make a disparaging comment all night,” Tom told Sam and Casey on the drive home. “I’ll admit he didn’t say much at all, just nodded a lot and smiled when necessary. But I have no idea what he was thinking.”