“Calan,” she said, putting her free hand on the gentleman’s arm, “this is Miss Kathryn Voland. I believe you two will be working together at the London Museum.”
“Mr. McCaffrey?” I asked, surprised.
He smiled. “How do you do, Miss Voland?” His Scottish accent was thick and deep. “I had hoped to get to the museum before it closed today so we could meet properly, but I just got into town.”
“Just in time for my dinner party,” Nancy added.
I shook Mr. McCaffrey’s hand, charmed with his accent and his handsome blue eyes.
“This is Lord Trevaun,” Calan said as he indicated the other gentleman, “a member of Parliament.”
“How do you do, Lord Trevaun?” I asked as I shook his hand.
“Call me George,” he said with a dry, cultured British accent. “Nancy insists.”
Nancy’s head tilted back as she laughed. “I do, indeed.” She let go of my arm and linked hers with George’s. “Let’s leave the young people with their energy and optimism and go find somewhere to complain about our aching bodies and the state of affairs in the world, shall we?” As they walked away, she turned and said, “Supper will be served in a few minutes. Perhaps you’d like to sit together.”
Mr. McCaffrey smiled at me. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Voland.”
“I think you’re supposed to call me Kathryn,” I said in a conspiratorial tone, “or Nancy might kick us out.”
His grin was infectious as he laughed. “We don’t want to test her, do we?”
“I’ve heard she’s a force to be reckoned with—both in and out of Parliament.”
“That she is.”
We were both quiet for a moment, so I said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m curious as to why you’ve come from Scotland to work on an exhibit at the London Museum.”
“I’ve known and worked with Sir Rothschild for years. He said he was assembling a team to help build a very special exhibit and only wanted the best to work on it.” His blue eyes sparkled. “I assume that means you’re the best America has to offer.”
His laid-back personality put me at ease, yet I sensed he was used to women being fascinated by him.
“I’m not sure I’m the best,” I said, “but I do have a passion for history and a special place in my heart for England.”
“This secret project of Bryant’s just got a lot more interesting,” he said with a laugh. “Perhaps you could give me a hint as to what we’ll be working on.”
“You don’t know?”
He shrugged.
I wasn’t sure why Sir Rothschild had kept the exhibit so secretive, but surely Calan could be trusted if Sir Rothschild had asked him to lead the team.
“Dinner is served,” the butler said as he entered the room, interrupting several conversations.
Calan offered me his arm. “Shall we? I can’t wait to hear more about this top-secret project of ours.”
I took his arm and smiled at several other guests as we made our way across the hall and into the formal dining room. The rounded ceiling was painted with cherubs and clouds, while a heavy chandelier illuminated the large paintings on the walls. In between each painting was an enormous mirror, making the massive room feel even bigger.
Down the center of the room was a long table, laden with fine linen, china, and crystal. Calan led me to two chairs close to the end and pulled one out for me.
“Thank you.” I took the seat, smiling at the gentleman to my left, who I had not yet met.
Introductions were soon made, and the first course, a tomato bisque, was brought to the table by footmen.
“There are so many things I want to know about you,” Calan said as he took up his spoon to sample his soup. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
I laughed. “You’re very charming.”
