A Grand Tour (Timeless Victorian Collection Book 2)

by Anthea Lawson

  Evelyn nodded. “Indeed, Henry’s profession is quite wonderful.”

  Henry. He liked hearing her say his given name. He also liked that she was complimenting him—even if it was forced.

  And, she hadn’t pulled her hand away.

  The color was high on Mrs. Worthen’s face. “Pray tell, where will you have your wife live?” she said in an arched voice.

  Would the woman not give up?

  “We have yet to discuss details,” Evelyn said in a bright voice.

  Bless her.

  “I am sure the young people will inform us of their plans as soon as they are made,” Mrs. Tucker added.

  Bless Mrs. Tucker.

  Just then three waiters arrived, bearing trays laden with platters of food. The timing was perfect. Mrs. Worthen turned her attention to nitpicking and complaining about some of the particular dishes. Henry had grown accustomed and even enjoyed Egyptian food now.

  He saw Evelyn hesitate as she looked at the various dishes. They were to help themselves, and although Henry could identify every dish, he realized that some of it might be new to Evelyn, despite the fact that she’d spent several days in Alexandria.

  “These are stuffed grape leaves,” he said, picking up a platter. “If you’ve had Greek food, they will taste familiar. They have a strong flavor, but you might enjoy them.” In truth, he had no idea what she might enjoy.

  “All right, I’ll try them,” she said.

  He set three of them on her plate, then picked up a large bowl. “And this is tabbouleh, a sort of salad with chopped vegetables, plenty of parsley, and bulgur.” With her nod, he scooped a spoonful onto her plate. “Things are less formal in Egypt, if you haven’t noticed.”

  The edges of her mouth lifted. “I haven’t really noticed.”

  Was she teasing him? He found he liked it very much. “Some things are less formal, but . . .” He leaned closer so that only she would hear. “Things like courting and marriage are much more formal.”

  “How so?” she asked, looking genuinely curious.

  “Most marriages are arranged in this country,” he said. “A man and woman might meet for the first time on their wedding day.”

  “That’s remarkable.” Her gaze held his.

  He’d never seen such depth in someone’s eyes, and he felt he could gaze into them for quite some time.

  “What do you think that would be like?” she asked. “I mean, the first days together, the first week. Do they ask each other what their favorite colors are? Their favorite composers? Their favorite artists?”

  Good questions, he thought. “Perhaps some of that is known in advance—you know—because the parents, or at least the fathers, have met or corresponded and discussed each of their children.”

  “Yes, to determine if they’re a good fit.” She looked thoughtful as she cut into the stuffed grape leaf. “At least one would hope.” She took a bite and chewed.

  “What do you think?” Henry asked after a moment, when he was sure she’d swallowed.

  “Unexpected,” she said. “I think I like it—although it’s quite different than anything I’ve ever tasted. Who would have thought of eating a grape leaf?” She spooned up a bit of the tabbouleh and took a bite of that. “Oh,” she said a second later. “Not too appealing.”

  Henry found that watching her try the new foods was quite fascinating. “Egyptian food is definitely an acquired taste. I didn’t like tabbouleh the first time I tasted it. You just need to keep eating it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll grow fond of tabbouleh” she said. “The aftertaste is too strong.” She ate another bite of the stuffed grape leaf. “Much better.”

  Henry chuckled.

  “What are you two in cahoots about?” Mrs. Tucker said.

  “Henry’s trying to convince me that Egyptian food will become more palatable with frequent eating,” Evelyn said.

  Henry sensed that Mrs. Worthen was paying them more attention than she was to her own cousin, Mr. Purdie.

  “The meat kabobs are wonderful,” Mrs. Tucker said.

  “I’m enjoying it well enough,” Evelyn continued. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at a bowl.

  Henry scooped a dollop on her plate, then handed over the platter of warm pita bread. “It’s a tahini dip that’s very good. You dip the pita bread into it.”

  Evelyn tried it, and Henry realized he was holding his breath, waiting for her to make her pronouncement.

  She gave him a brief smile, then dipped another piece of pita into the tahini and ate it. “This is delicious. What’s it made of?”

  “Sesame seeds mostly,” Henry said, grinning.

  “Mmm,” Evelyn said, dipping more pita into the sauce. “I think I’ve fallen in love.”

  Her words buzzed through Henry, making him feel very, very pleased and sort of light-headed if truth be told. He scooped tahini onto his own plate and joined Evelyn in eating. He was certain Mrs. Worthen had noted the entire exchange as well as overhead parts of their conversation. Hopefully it would be enough to convince her that he was completely off the market. Not that Henry was flattering himself about Mrs. Worthen’s attentions toward him, but he didn’t want her to think he was available now, or in the future.

  He didn’t know how exactly to handle the future—would his pretend engagement have to stay in place until Mrs. Worthen found another man to marry? Most likely. This thought only made him feel more guilty.

  Yet . . . he’d discovered that he was enjoying every moment with Evelyn. He’d never considered introducing a woman to his love of Egypt. He’d always thought that perhaps a decade or two down the road, he’d return to England, marry, then take shorter trips abroad.

  Now, smiling over the food choices with Evelyn and discussing the oddities of arranged marriages in other cultures, he realized that he was more than enjoying himself. It was as if he, too, were falling in love with Egypt all over again.

  The four-person orchestra was a poor substitute for any social event in England, but Evelyn didn’t mind. She was quickly growing to appreciate the culture surrounding her. The young, respectful men serving as waiters, wearing long white robes that Henry had told her were called galibayas. The very sweet, cold tea. The stuffed grape leaves. Best of all, the pastries that had been served for dessert were creations unlike anything she’d ever seen.

  And now, Henry rose to his feet and extended his hand toward her. “Would you care to dance, Evelyn?”

  She felt all eyes around the table on her, and she was fairly certain her aunt was swooning. Although, Margaret should know better—this was all a charade. But as long as Evelyn was playing a part, she might as well enjoy it to the fullest. She’d never danced in a real assembly with an actual dancing partner. She’d danced with the school dancing instructor and then partnered with Beatrice and a few of the other girls as they traded off who was acting in the “male” role.

  So, by the time she’d placed her hand in Henry’s and allowed him to pull her to her feet, her heart was hammering madly. He led her to the dance floor, where the four musicians were warming up.

  “I’m sorry the music isn’t more polished,” Henry said, a hint of a smile on his face.

  “I don’t think it would make me a better dancer if it were,” Evelyn told him. “I’ve never been to a ball or assembly.”

  His brows pulled together. “I had no idea.”

  The confusion on his face was a bit endearing. “I’ve been in a boarding school all this time, with only young ladies in attendance,” she said. “We did have a dancing instructor, though, so I’m not completely inept.”

  “Of course not,” Henry was quick to say. “I am just astounded that you never attended society functions with your aunt and uncle.”

  They reached the center of the floor where other couples had gathered.

  “I visited them only during the Christmas holiday for a couple of days at a time,” Evelyn confided. “My aunt now isn’t the same woman as when her husband was alive. It�
�s as if she’s shed shackles of doom.” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. She didn’t want to come across as critical of her aunt or ungrateful in any way.

  But Henry only looked at her with amusement. “Then I am a fortunate man indeed.” He clasped her right hand in his left and raised them together. Then he settled his other hand at her waist. She lifted her left arm and placed her hand on his shoulder just as the cobbled orchestra began a slightly offbeat rendition of a waltz.

  Evelyn didn’t mind. The music was but a backdrop to the rhythmic steps that Henry led her through. She focused on the steps and keeping her posture erect while also trying to follow Henry’s lead.

  “You’re doing fine,” Henry said in a low voice after a few moments.

  She looked up.

  Gazing at him this close wasn’t something she’d thought might affect her. But it did. She could smell his masculine scent of spice, and she became very aware of the feel of their linked hands and the way his other one spanned across her back. His shoulder was solid and muscled. She had a sudden image of him working at a dig site, doing manual labor alongside the hired workers. She wouldn’t be surprised if he pitched in. It would explain the strength of his broad shoulders.

  She also wouldn’t be surprised if there was a blazing fire in the hearth at one end of the dining hall. But in actuality, there was no hearth, and no fire. She was overheating, and she didn’t know if it was from her nervousness at dancing her first real dance or because of the man’s arms she was currently in.

  “Truly, you’re dancing well,” Henry continued. “Try to relax and enjoy yourself. No one here is watching us—not like London society.”

  “Except Mrs. Worthen,” Evelyn said.

  Henry glanced past her. “Well, perhaps her.”

  “And my aunt is surely watching,” she said.

  “You’re likely right about that,” he conceded.

  “Percy might be watching as well.”

  Henry laughed.

  She loved the way he laughed because it seemed he reserved it for when he was truly amused.

  “You’ve outfoxed me,” he said. “We are being watched, but you are still a natural dancer.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’re making it easier than I thought it would be.”

  His eyes seemed to change then, going from amused to contemplative as he gazed at her.

  If possible, her heartrate quickened from its already thumping state.

  “Your aunt has been very helpful tonight, especially with Mrs. Worthen,” Henry said.

  Evelyn couldn’t agree more. “Aunt Margaret has surprised me. Once she got over the shock of your first letter, that is. I think she’s quite enjoying her part in this drama.”

  Henry chuckled. “She’s a bright woman, although I feel bad about putting the two of you in this position. I hope to find a way to make it up to you, once this can be put behind us.”

  Disappointment swept through Evelyn, and she silently chastised herself. Why should she be disappointed to bring the charade to an end and move on with her life? “How long do you think it will take for Mrs. Worthen to find a husband?”

  Henry glanced past her again. Evelyn looked over as well to see Mrs. Worthen dancing with one of the older men who’d been on the tour. Mr. Beaumont, if Evelyn remembered right. He was traveling with a few other men who were archaeology enthusiasts.

  “I can’t say,” Henry said. “I do know that it will be an interesting week.”

  Interesting, indeed, Evelyn thought. The dance came to a close, and Evelyn knew she couldn’t very well dance two in a row with Henry, even though they were supposedly engaged.

  Henry escorted Evelyn back toward the table, where they were intercepted by Mr. Percy Smith. “May I have this dance?” Mr. Smith asked Evelyn.

  She was grateful to now have a bit of experience. Although as she began to dance with Mr. Smith, she noticed that Mrs. Worthen had snared Henry into a dance. There was no reason to be envious. Henry had made it quite plain he didn’t care for Mrs. Worthen in a romantic way—he’d turned down her proposal—but Evelyn’s spirits plunged regardless.

  She tried to focus on what Mr. Smith was telling her about the archaeology site they’d be visiting tomorrow. Evelyn was quite looking forward to it, and she was grateful that Mr. Smith wasn’t entering into any gossip about Henry and Mrs. Worthen, although Mr. Smith looked their way more than once.

  “As usual, Henry is the brains behind this operation,” Mr. Smith said. “At the university, that was often the case. He’d come up with brilliant plans, and unlike other men who’d let their dreams fade away, Henry would find a way to make it happen. As you can see, he’s quite good at getting his way.”

  Evelyn blinked at that comment. Was Henry simply using his handsomeness and charm as a means to an end? She’d enjoyed her dance with him and their dinner conversation. In fact, he was starting to feel like a friend. “I guess it takes that type of personality to be a philanthropist,” she observed. “I certainly couldn’t manage it.”

  “Nor I,” Mr. Smith said with a chuckle. “You’ve been a good sport through all of this. I believe you both have Mrs. Worthen well convinced.”

  “I certainly hope so,” she said, although doubt was starting to creep in. Mrs. Worthen laughed, loud enough for Evelyn to hear.

  “I have a confession to make,” Mr. Smith said.

  Evelyn refocused on him. “Oh?” She didn’t really like this turn in conversation. She knew Mr. Smith less than she knew Henry.

  “I would not mind being married to Mrs. Worthen myself,” he said.

  Evelyn couldn’t have been more surprised.

  His face flushed. “Don’t look so shocked. She’s older than me, yes, but she’s an interesting woman. As the third son, you could very well understand that I don’t have much to recommend me.”

  Evelyn’s mind raced. She had no idea what to say to such a confession, but she did know that Mr. Smith was a pleasant, good-looking fellow. “It’s my opinion, Mr. Smith, that you underestimate yourself. I don’t know the reason Mrs. Worthen can’t see that for herself. It seems she’s set her eyes on the wrong man.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. He really was a nice-looking man, although there was nothing about him that sped up her pulse. “You’re an extraordinary young woman,” he said.

  She wasn’t completely immune to his compliment, though, and was sure that her own blush stained her face.

  “Henry is one lucky devil, is all I can say,” he continued. “I know your engagement is only an act, but he would be a fool to let someone like you go.”

  Her face was definitely red now, but he only continued smiling at her. “You are your own charmer, Mr. Smith.”

  He laughed, and that, of course, drew the attention of plenty of people around them. “This will be an interesting week,” he said.

  Henry had just told her that moments ago. She couldn’t help but notice that Henry had looked over at her dancing with Mr. Smith plenty of times throughout the dance. When the dance ended, and Mr. Smith led her off the floor, Margaret met them at the table.

  “I have a headache coming on,” Margaret said.

  “Oh,” Evelyn said, momentarily stunned. Then, collecting her thoughts, she said, “We’ll retire for the evening, then. Tomorrow we begin early.”

  “Yes,” her aunt said and looked over at Mr. Smith. “I wish you a good night.”

  He gave a half bow just as Henry and Mrs. Worthen joined them.

  “Leaving so soon?” Mrs. Worthen asked. She must have had hearing like a cat.

  “My aunt is ready to retire,” Evelyn said. “We will look forward to seeing everyone in the morning.”

  “I’ll walk you to the stairs,” Henry rushed to say.

  So it was that the three of them walked to the stairs that led to the upper hallway of rooms.

  “Thank you for the dance and introducing me to Cairo’s cuisine,” Evelyn said with a smile.

  Henry grasp
ed her hand, quite earnestly in fact. Then he bent over it and pressed a kiss on her gloved hand. “It’s been an enchanting night.”

  Evelyn must have murmured another thank you, but she wasn’t quite sure. Her aunt bid farewell, and then she linked arms with Evelyn. They started up the stairs together, and as they walked down the hallway, Evelyn said, “I hope your headache won’t last long.”

  Her aunt gave a small laugh. “I don’t have a headache, dear, but thank you for your concern. I saw what was happening between you and Henry, then Mr. Smith, and I thought it better that you take an early leave.”

  Evelyn slowed her step and looked at her aunt. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you are in great danger of having two men fall in love with you.”

  Evelyn couldn’t be more shocked. “Surely you’re jesting.”

  “You are not aware of how lovely you look this evening,” her aunt continued in a kind tone. “In a desert such as this, you’re like a beautiful oasis.”

  “You don’t understand,” Evelyn said. She hadn’t planned on divulging Mr. Smith’s confidence, but she had no choice now. “Mr. Smith is pining for Mrs. Worthen.”

  Her aunt’s brows flew up. “What? Are you certain?”

  “He confessed it to me during our dance, but it seems that she has eyes for Henry. And thus the proposal.”

  “My goodness,” her aunt said. “The plot has thickened. You, Mr. Smith, Mr. Gaiman, Mrs. Worthen. Oh my.”

  “We will enjoy the rest of our trip and then leave them all behind to sort it out,” Evelyn said in a determined tone. “If the men are interested in me, it is as you said—they are devoid of eligible women here, so I am an anomaly.”

  “I don’t know about that, dear.” Her aunt patted her hand. “I saw the way you responded to Henry Gaiman. You are not as immune to him as you might claim.”

  “Perhaps it is because he was my first bona fide dance partner,” Evelyn said.

  Her aunt merely smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. It seemed that Evelyn was poor at convincing her aunt.

  “I’m looking forward to an interesting week,” her aunt said.