Mr. Hook. Perhaps now she saw Jonah as her father saw him. No longer suitable.
Really, it was just as well. Marriage was not meant for everyone. Jonah returned to his examination of the balance books and tried to pay little mind when, some time later, Reid and Alice passed down the corridor, voices raised in lively discussion. She was thanking him—unnecessarily, Jonah thought, since there had never been any doubt of Hook’s approval. Reid appeared to have quite the talent for turning strangers into friends. Those strangers who could do him some good, at any rate. Jonah realized he would have to watch out for Alice, because as intelligent as she was, she could know little of the type of man who charmed a lady only to dally with her and leave her with empty promises or worse.
He would have to keep a sharp eye on Reid in every respect.
His place lost in the debit column, he began again and worked through until he was prepared for the morrow’s exchanges. Mr. Satterfield came by with the cart for the books, and Jonah handed them over. The bank was quiet as he put on his coat and hat and started for the lobby door. Through the lofty windows looking out upon William Street, slim shafts of rosy light entered. It warmed the wide expanse of marble, burnished the brass trim of the counter lamps, and imbued the lobby with a tranquil glow. Beyond the four windows, the world was similarly bathed. It was an evening too inviting to resist.
Jonah went to the stairs and took the four flights to the roof at a pace that left him breathless. The exertion was repaid when he stepped out into that soft light, and the wind swept him a welcome, nearly taking off with his hat. He bared his head as he walked to the coping and looked into the street below. Lights of the man-made sort were just coming to life, illuminating a street still heavy with traffic in all directions. Around him, other rooftops were uninhabited havens, and he seemed the only one aware of the coming storm.
He pressed his hands flat to the cold ledge and closed his eyes as the wind buffeted him with unceasing strength. His skin tingled under its bite, his hair whipped into his eyes, and he took off his glasses and pocketed them. The world was blurrier hence, but it needed to be no clearer. With the warming, rosy light fading fast, he found comfort still in the ever-shifting shades of gray. He let the elements have at him, pushing, chilling, waking him to sensations other than his aching head and the anxious thoughts that had been building all afternoon. Not even the first cold flake on his cheek could drive him indoors. Nothing could.
“Have a care, Mr. Woolner. Don’t want to end up in the street, do you?”
Chapter 5
Nothing except that. The spell broken, Jonah turned, fumbling for his glasses. “Mr. Abbott. You’re early.”
Liam Abbott stood in the midst of the wicker chairs the third-floor attorneys had brought up in wistful anticipation of an early spring. He was bundled in a heavy coat that didn’t obscure the bottle weighing down one pocket, nor the gun in the other. “Roof ain’t the best place in a storm. ’Specially for a man half-blind already.”
Jonah shivered, abruptly aware of how cold it was. “I am not half-blind, and I’ll thank you to keep your personal remarks to yourself. Why are you up here? Has Mr. Satterfield gone?”
“He knows you’re still here,” Abbott said, as if that answered the question. “Can’t say it’s smart, wandering up here at closing. We might’ve locked you out. That’d make for a long, cold night.”
“I would hope you’d check the roof before locking the door.”
“Only checked it now on account of Mr. Hylliard’s asking.”
“Is he still here?”
“He asked this morning,” Abbott said. “Told me to keep sharp for anything out of the ordinary and let him know about it. Any particular reason you’re up here?”
“None
Really, it was just as well. Marriage was not meant for everyone. Jonah returned to his examination of the balance books and tried to pay little mind when, some time later, Reid and Alice passed down the corridor, voices raised in lively discussion. She was thanking him—unnecessarily, Jonah thought, since there had never been any doubt of Hook’s approval. Reid appeared to have quite the talent for turning strangers into friends. Those strangers who could do him some good, at any rate. Jonah realized he would have to watch out for Alice, because as intelligent as she was, she could know little of the type of man who charmed a lady only to dally with her and leave her with empty promises or worse.
He would have to keep a sharp eye on Reid in every respect.
His place lost in the debit column, he began again and worked through until he was prepared for the morrow’s exchanges. Mr. Satterfield came by with the cart for the books, and Jonah handed them over. The bank was quiet as he put on his coat and hat and started for the lobby door. Through the lofty windows looking out upon William Street, slim shafts of rosy light entered. It warmed the wide expanse of marble, burnished the brass trim of the counter lamps, and imbued the lobby with a tranquil glow. Beyond the four windows, the world was similarly bathed. It was an evening too inviting to resist.
Jonah went to the stairs and took the four flights to the roof at a pace that left him breathless. The exertion was repaid when he stepped out into that soft light, and the wind swept him a welcome, nearly taking off with his hat. He bared his head as he walked to the coping and looked into the street below. Lights of the man-made sort were just coming to life, illuminating a street still heavy with traffic in all directions. Around him, other rooftops were uninhabited havens, and he seemed the only one aware of the coming storm.
He pressed his hands flat to the cold ledge and closed his eyes as the wind buffeted him with unceasing strength. His skin tingled under its bite, his hair whipped into his eyes, and he took off his glasses and pocketed them. The world was blurrier hence, but it needed to be no clearer. With the warming, rosy light fading fast, he found comfort still in the ever-shifting shades of gray. He let the elements have at him, pushing, chilling, waking him to sensations other than his aching head and the anxious thoughts that had been building all afternoon. Not even the first cold flake on his cheek could drive him indoors. Nothing could.
“Have a care, Mr. Woolner. Don’t want to end up in the street, do you?”
Chapter 5
Nothing except that. The spell broken, Jonah turned, fumbling for his glasses. “Mr. Abbott. You’re early.”
Liam Abbott stood in the midst of the wicker chairs the third-floor attorneys had brought up in wistful anticipation of an early spring. He was bundled in a heavy coat that didn’t obscure the bottle weighing down one pocket, nor the gun in the other. “Roof ain’t the best place in a storm. ’Specially for a man half-blind already.”
Jonah shivered, abruptly aware of how cold it was. “I am not half-blind, and I’ll thank you to keep your personal remarks to yourself. Why are you up here? Has Mr. Satterfield gone?”
“He knows you’re still here,” Abbott said, as if that answered the question. “Can’t say it’s smart, wandering up here at closing. We might’ve locked you out. That’d make for a long, cold night.”
“I would hope you’d check the roof before locking the door.”
“Only checked it now on account of Mr. Hylliard’s asking.”
“Is he still here?”
“He asked this morning,” Abbott said. “Told me to keep sharp for anything out of the ordinary and let him know about it. Any particular reason you’re up here?”
“None
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