Lady Travelers Guide to Deception with an Unlikely Earl

by Victoria Alexander

  Sidney wasn’t sure what she expected the moment she stepped off the ship and onto the ancient soil of Egypt. It was not substantially different from any of the previous stops. But this was Egypt. This was the world she’d read about and studied and lost herself in. She was hard-pressed not to grin with delight at nearly everything. Everywhere she looked was a new scene straight from a book or a painting or a photograph. Here were travelers and merchants and seamen in exotic dress and assorted skin colors all speaking in languages both vaguely familiar and completely unknown. Stacked mountains of cotton bales waited to be loaded onto ships. Roped lines of camels and donkeys led by robed handlers wound their way through the composed chaos. This was the first time she’d seen camels outside of a zoological garden and it was hard not to squeal with excitement.

  And there was something in the very air, not a scent exactly—the air smelled little different from any port they’d visited—but a knowledge perhaps. Subtle and ancient and elusive and yet there nonetheless. A knowledge that reached deep inside her and wrapped around her very soul like an unanticipated gift or an unexpected compliment or a lover’s touch. She ignored the odd thought. She’d certainly never had a lover and why the idea came to mind made no sense at all. Although it was indeed an intriguing notion.

  This was Egypt. This was where man had walked and prospered and built a great civilization thousands of years ago. And left grand treasures and remarkable monuments to be buried by the unrelenting sand for people like her grandparents to rediscover and celebrate and bring the ancients back to life.

  They made their way through the examination at the customhouse—which involved little more than providing their names and a slight charge for the baggage. Harry was impressively efficient there too and in no time at all they were divided into two cabs and on their way to the train station. Sidney pointedly avoided his carriage, choosing to ride with Effie and Gwen instead.

  “He asked to kiss you?” Effie said the moment the cab rolled off. “What nerve of the man.”

  “Well, he did ask, Effie,” Gwen noted. “Most men would have kissed first and asked later or apologized later, depending on the circumstances.”

  “And what was your answer?” Effie asked.

  “I said no, of course.” Sidney huffed. “Imagine the audacity of the man, thinking I would kiss him simply because he asked.”

  Her refusal at the time was automatic. Only afterward did she consider what it might have been like to be kissed by Harry Armstrong. Or any man for that matter as she’d never had the opportunity to be kissed before. But to be kissed by Harry...it was a surprisingly exciting idea. One she couldn’t quite get out of her head.

  “But he did apologize,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “And quite nicely too I thought. I don’t believe I have yet to see Mr. Armstrong the least bit disconcerted—”

  Effie sniffed. “As he is not used to admitting when he’s wrong.”

  “—and I thought it rather sweet.”

  “He did appear somewhat less arrogant than usual,” Sidney conceded.

  Gwen considered her for a moment. “I thought he sounded most sincere.”

  “Regardless of how he sounded, I did accept his apology and we needn’t discuss it further,” Sidney said in an unusually firm tone and turned her attention to the passing scene.

  Alexandria was unexpected in its European appearance. They could have been anywhere really. At each cross street, she strained for a glimpse of anything of note. Sidney ignored a distinct sense of disappointment and turned her expectations toward Cairo.

  The rail trip itself offered tantalizing peeks of the Egypt she anticipated. They traveled past Lake Mareotis, with flocks of waterfowl and waters rising up the embankment and lapping nearly to the rails themselves. They passed villages with mud brick houses broken by occasional minarets and domed cupolas. Modern iron bridges crossed the Rosetta and Damietta branches of the Nile. The graceful curved sails of feluccas floated on the river and the canals in the distance.

  A few hours south of Alexandria they entered the vast, flat plains of the delta with fields of cotton and other crops broken by canals and dykes. Sidney caught glimpses of palaces and ruins of Egyptian or Greek or Roman origins. And shortly before they reached Cairo, the great pyramids of Giza rose in the distance, a vision of an empire long lost to the ages and the unrelenting desert sands. It was enough to bring tears of appreciation to one’s eyes.

  Nearly six hours after they’d disembarked from the steamer, Sidney stood at long last before Shepheard’s Hotel. The others went up the broad steps into the imposing structure but Sidney couldn’t help but pause to stare up at the legendary inn with its raised terrace and gleaming stone facade. Her grandmother had written fondly of Shepheard’s saying if one sat on the elevated terrace long enough, one would see the entire world pass by. Sidney had included the hotel in her stories but, while it was indeed grand, aside from the ancient stone sphinxes flanking the entrance doors, it was also somewhat plain and not quite the dazzling travelers’ palace Sidney had envisioned.

  “It’s different than I expected,” she murmured.

  “Than you remembered, you mean,” Harry’s voice sounded beside her.

  “Yes.” Even when she thought she was alone, the blasted man was right there, recording every mistake to support whatever decision he ultimately reached. Why, he probably had a notebook in which he wrote any error she might make. “Memory is not always as accurate as one might hope. And it has been some time since I was last there.”

  “Quite some time.”

  She cast him a sharp glance but he did appear sincere. “One expects things to be as one remembers them. Pity they aren’t.”

  He paused. “It’s not your memory at fault. The entire hotel was torn down and rebuilt shortly after I left Egypt.”

  “That explains it.” She resisted the urge to thank him even though offering that information was rather nice of him.

  “Shall we go in?” He offered his arm.

  “That’s not necessary, you know. I am more than capable of walking into the hotel by myself.”

  “I have no doubt of that.”

  “Thank you, Harry.” She took his arm and wondered if he realized she was grateful for more than his escort.

  They climbed the steps and doormen flanking the imposing entry bowed and opened the doors in unison a second before they reached it. They stepped into the grand entrance hall and lobby although grand truly was an understatement. Now, this was the Shepheard’s she’d imagined.

  Harry chuckled. “They’ve certainly changed a lot.”

  “Indeed they have,” she said softly.

  Massive stone columns topped with capitals carved to look like palm fronds soared to a ceiling a good two stories overhead. A grand stairway swept upward to the next level guarded by bronze, life-size statues of dancing girls. With potted palms in ornate urns, patterned carpets and intricately tiled floors, it was the epitome of the Egypt she had long seen in her mind’s eye. A pharaoh would have been right at home. If he didn’t mind sharing his home with a sizable crowd of foreigners, most of them English or American, with German, French and other nationalities represented as well.

  “Mrs. Gordon.” A distinguished, elegant gentleman hurried toward her, Gwen and the others a scant step behind him. He reached Sidney and immediately took her hand. “I cannot tell you how delighted I was when Lady Blodgett informed me you were a member of her party. It has been a very long time.”

  “Entirely too long,” Sidney said with a weak smile.

  “You remember, Mr. Chalmers, of course,” Gwen said. “The manager of the hotel.”

  “Goodness, I would never forget Mr. Chalmers.” She beamed at the manager, wondering how on earth Gwen managed this. “It’s wonderful to be back.”

  “I do hope you find the newly rebuilt hotel to your liking. We’ve made a number of improvements in o
ur efforts to make your stay memorable.” Pride shone in the man’s eyes. “We are the only hotel in Egypt—indeed, in all of Africa—to be lit entirely by electricity, at great expense I might add. There is as well a telephone on every floor.”

  “Most impressive, Mr. Chalmers,” Sidney said, glancing around.

  “You’ll find the food vastly improved as well. The kitchens are now under the direction of a French chef.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I will admit that the quality of the food here has in the past been the subject of some complaint.”

  Harry snorted and then tried to disguise it with a cough.

  Mr. Chalmers’s gaze shot to him. “Mr. Armstrong?” Surprise colored his voice. “You’re back?”

  Harry chuckled. “Good to see you, Chalmers.”

  The manager’s eyes narrowed. “I was not aware you were a member of Mrs. Gordon’s party.”

  “And now you are.” Harry smiled pleasantly.

  “Nor did I expect to see you again so soon.” The manager’s obvious training in hospitality kept his voice level but something that might well have been dislike shone in his eyes.

  “Come now, Chalmers,” Harry said smoothly. “It’s only been a year after all. I’ve never been away from Egypt that long before.”

  “And we feared you had gone for good.” While the manager’s tone was pleasant enough, his jaw clenched.

  Sidney glanced at Daniel who watched the exchange closely. Obviously, she was not the only one curious about the hotel manager’s reaction to Harry’s presence.

  “How could I possibly stay away?” Harry grinned.

  Chalmers pointedly turned his attention back to Sidney. “I regret that I cannot personally see you to your rooms but I have other matters to attend to.” He raised his hand in an imperious wave. At once, another gentleman appeared by his side. “I shall leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Durning. He will show you to your rooms and your luggage will follow immediately.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chalmers.” Without warning, the sheer excitement of being at Shepheard’s in Cairo bubbled up inside her. “And might I say how truly pleased I am to be here again.”

  “It’s I who is pleased, Mrs. Gordon,” Mr. Chalmers said. “I can’t tell you the number of guests who have mentioned your book and its favorable depiction of Shepheard’s. We will be forever grateful.”

  “Mrs. Gordon? Ladies? Sirs?” Mr. Durning stepped forward. “If you would be so good as to follow me.”

  “Before you go, Mr. Armstrong,” Chalmers said, “if I might have a word. In my office if you please.”

  “I thought you might.” Harry glanced at the others. “There is no better way to be introduced to Egypt than by having tea on the terrace at Shepheard’s. Not for Mrs. Gordon, of course,” he added. “She is well acquainted with Cairo but for the rest of you it should be quite entertaining. Ladies, Corbin, I shall join you then.” Harry nodded and accompanied Chalmers across the grand hall.

  “Isn’t that interesting?” Daniel said quietly.

  “Do you think so?” As much as Sidney agreed with Daniel, she thought it best not to feed his curiosity. “It struck me as being nothing more than casual acquaintances meeting one another again.”

  “You’re probably right.” Daniel cast a last speculative look at Harry and the manager and then favored her with his most brilliant smile. Goodness, didn’t the man get tired of smiling like that all the time? She certainly would. He took her arm and followed Durning and the ladies. “While I’m looking forward to sleeping on dry land again, I’m fairly confident my room will not be quite as nice as yours. Mr. Cadwallender does not provide first-class accommodations for mere reporters.”

  “Oh, I’m certain someday you’ll be more than a mere reporter,” she said lightly.

  “I intend to be, Sidney.” He chuckled. “Have no doubt of that.”

  Her rooms were everything Sidney could have asked for—at once European and yet distinctly Egyptian in style with elaborately carved furnishings, ornate canopied bed, comfortable chairs, luxurious brightly colored fabrics, and located conveniently close to the toilets and lavatories. Her suite consisted of a large drawing room with deep oriental fringed carpets woven in intricate, native designs adjoining a bed chamber just large enough to hold the bed with an arched entry bounded by curtains to close it off should privacy be needed.

  Sidney hurried to freshen up and then joined the other ladies at the wicker tables on the front terrace overlooking the street. Harry was right—this was an excellent spot to see much of what Cairo had to offer. Donkeys and their handlers stood waiting to be hired. Monkeys capered about their owners’ feet hoping to charm visitors out of a few coins. Street performers of every kind vied with passing merchants eager to offer an amulet from the time of the pharaohs or glass beads from the tombs of ancient princes or painting on papyrus claimed to be ancient.

  “Dare I ask why Mr. Chalmers greeted me as if I were a long-lost friend?” Sidney asked as soon as they had been served.

  “Because I took the opportunity to mention to him that you had once been a frequent guest and surely he remembered you. And if he didn’t...” Gwen smiled in an overly sweet manner. “Well, it might be in the best interests of the hotel if he acted as if he did.”

  “It helped that the request came from Lady Blodgett.” Effie grinned. “Apparently, hotel managers are just as awed by titles as everyone else who doesn’t have one.”

  “And we mentioned your writing as well,” Poppy added. “How terribly popular it was. And what a shame it would be if Shepheard’s was not depicted with the same kindness you’ve shone it in the past.”

  Sidney stared. “You’re enjoying this deception, aren’t you?”

  Effie snorted. “Good Lord, yes.”

  “The three of you are really quite astonishing.” Sidney shook her head. “It had only been a vague suspicion before we left England, prompted by the willingness with which you were all prepared to carry out this charade, but I’d always thought that there was a touch of something not completely forthright about you.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Gwen sipped her tea.

  “Being unquestionably honest and unbearably upright is not nearly as enjoyable as one might think.” Poppy smiled in an overly mischievous manner. “Oh, there’s a certain virtuous satisfaction I suppose but even then it does become dreadfully dull.”

  “Besides if one is loosening one’s moral corset strings in the furtherance of a good cause, well...” Effie shrugged. “I have absolutely no difficulty doing what must be done. Nor do I have any difficulty relishing it.”

  “I am glad my dilemma has some redeeming benefits,” Sidney said wryly.

  “Some?” Gwen raised a brow. “I daresay it’s more than some.”

  “You—we—are in Egypt, Sidney,” Effie said. “Egypt, the place you’ve always wanted to visit. The fabled land you have studied and written of and dreamed about.”

  “Why, we’ve already seen camels, and monkeys and all of this.” Poppy gestured in a wide wave at the street encompassing the passing show and a man with a stuffed crocodile on his head. “You never see anything like this in Bloomsbury.”

  “It’s already most exciting and we haven’t even truly started yet,” Gwen said. “According to the schedule the ever efficient Miss Granville prepared for us, tomorrow you lead us on a tour of Cairo and the day after we head to the pyramids.”

  “Oh my, that will be exciting. I recall...”

  The pyramids. A shiver of excitement raced through Sidney. She’d seen them from the train and caught glimpses of the ancient structures as they’d driven through Cairo but they were distant and indistinct and more an illusion than anything real. Harry had surely seen the pyramids. Why, he had commented on them on board ship. Still, anyone could make an observation without actually having seen the object in question. She certainly had.
/>   “Sidney?”

  One did have to wonder exactly how familiar Harry was with Egypt anyway. Other than Mr. Cadwallender saying Harry had spent time in his youth in Egypt, which apparently was not accurate as he had stated quite clearly to Mr. Chalmers he had been gone a year, and Daniel’s reference to him as being well-known among Egyptologists—whatever that meant—she really knew nothing about him at all. She and the ladies had been so busy guarding against him learning too much about her, they had failed to learn anything of importance about him.

  “Sidney!” Effie said sharply and Sidney’s gaze jumped to the older woman. “You’re anywhere but here. What are you thinking?”

  “Does it strike you, any of you, that we don’t know anything about Mr. Armstrong?”

  “Of course we do,” Gwen said. “We know he’s the earl’s nephew.”

  “And?”

  “And...” Gwen’s brow furrowed. “I hadn’t really noticed but...”

  “Now that you mention it,” Effie said, “I believe you’re right.”

  “I can only think of one thing he’s said about himself.” And that was regarding his tradition of champagne at sunrise on board ship. “The man doesn’t talk about himself at all.”

  “Rather refreshing really,” Poppy said. “Daniel talks of very little other than himself.”

  “Aren’t we doing much the same thing?” Gwen winced. “Haven’t we all avoided saying anything about Sidney’s life in an effort to minimize any sort of mistake. We can hardly fault him for following suit.”

  “Yes, but we’re doing it for a noble purpose.” Effie’s eyes narrowed. “One does have to wonder what Mr. Armstrong’s purpose is. What the man is hiding.”

  “Don’t any of you want to know why the manager wished to see Mr. Armstrong alone?” Sidney’s gaze circled the table.

  “That was curious.” Gwen nodded.

  “I daresay it’s probably not the least bit significant.” Poppy shrugged. “No doubt a question about passports or luggage or something of that nature.”