Cold April by Phyllis A. Humphrey Page B

a place for the doll. “There. Do you think she’ll be all right now? She won’t mind being alone?”
    “ I’ll stay with her until she goes to sleep.” Kathleen climbed onto the bed, and Beth took off the child’s shoes. In a few minutes the girl was asleep.
    Richard poked his head in. “If you don’t mind, I shall take advantage of the gymnasium for an hour or so.”
    “ Yes, do that. The exercise will be a welcome change for you.”
    “ You should do that as well. Tomorrow, perhaps. I believe ladies’ hours are from nine in the morning until noon.”
    “ Perhaps I will.”
    After Richard gathered a suitable change of clothes and left the room, Beth stretched out on the couch. She’d had fewer than her usual hours of sleep the night before and needed a nap to refresh her for the evening ahead. However, thoughts of Richard kept intruding, as they had the night before. She enjoyed his company, and now that she knew he didn’t consider her a mere servant, she allowed herself to hope they might have a future together.
    She’d urged him, on more than one occasion, to go into the smoking room or squash court and meet other gentlemen, but he showed no interest. On the one occasion he’d gone to dinner alone, he met other people in the dining saloon, even a beautiful, unattached young woman, but he apparently had no interest in her. He seemed to prefer being with Beth and Kathleen. Surely, if he only felt obligated to entertain her while they crossed the Atlantic, he wouldn’t have said the things he did. His interest in her must be genuine. She felt certain that when they arrived in New York, he wouldn’t vanish from her life as suddenly as he had entered it.
    She recalled that first morning on the dock at Southampton when he’d saved her from the reckless lorry driver. She had looked into his handsome, smiling face and believed, at least temporarily, that he might pursue a relationship. Even after that notion seemed unlikely, their subsequent meetings had done nothing to reduce her attraction to him. Even without his wealth—which no woman, even in the twentieth century, could discount—she found him a charming companion: polite, sensitive, and intelligent. She also admired his attachment to his daughter, a trait any woman who had or hoped to have children would appreciate. She visualized future moments with Richard, holding him close, kissing him, being kissed. She began to feel it not unreasonable to entertain hopes of a future as Mrs. Richard Graham.
    Having harbored such thoughts instead of napping, she worried someone might be able to read them in her expression, and her face felt warm to the touch. She decided to leave Kathleen in Richard’s care upon his return and get her own exercise, perhaps a few long walks in the fresh air on the various decks.
    He agreed at once. “I must apologize for being away so long. After using the equipment in the gymnasium, I couldn’t resist trying out the swimming pool.”
    “ I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
    “ If you have a swimming costume with you, you should try it yourself.” He paused. “Or, if you don’t, they might lend you one.”
    “ Thank you for thinking of me. Perhaps tomorrow.”
    “ It is rather late, isn’t it?”
    “ I’ll just take a few turns around the deck before dinner.”
    Beth left the stateroom and walked toward the promenade deck.
    A friendly voice greeted her. “Miss Shallcross, I believe.” Harry Palmer made an exaggerated bow. “May I join you?”
    Beth turned to the young man, who wore a different outfit from the one she’d last seen him in. Rather than his magician’s coat and trousers, he was dressed in a well-cut suit, shirt and tie in a light tan color that almost matched his sandy hair.
    “ Mr. Palmer. I didn’t expect to see you again.”
    “ I knew I would see you. I just didn’t know when. I worried that you might never come out.”
    “ Come out? What do you mean?”
    “ I’ve been watching your door in