The inevitable laughter bubbled up inside her, and she wondered through a haze of exhilaration if Wynne had yet discovered love was the greatest adventure of them all.
Chapter 19
“Do you expect to laugh each time I make love to you?”
“Oh, Nicholas.” Sabrina gasped, struggling to overcome her mirth. “I certainly hope so.”
“Very well, then.” He growled and nuzzled her neck. “Perhaps you will find this humorous?”
Sabrina laughed and snuggled against him, reveling in his warmth, his strength, his scent. The turbulent emotions of the night crept up on her, and she was abruptly too weary to move. A moment’s rest would do no harm. Her eyes closed and her mind drifted. Images floated through her head of an impulsive kiss shared in a cave long ago, of a valise tossed into a room and the rogue following close behind, of love … and laughter … and … gold.
“The gold.” Sabrina jerked upright. “We must be off, Nicholas. I want to find that gold tonight.”
“Very well, my love,” he said, his manner resigned and relaxed.
She glared at him suspiciously. “What? No protests? No excuses? No lectures about the dangers of the desert in the night?”
Nicholas grinned. “I believe the night is virtually gone. The sun will be up in less than an hour.”
Confusion colored her thoughts. “But how—”
“You slept, quite soundly I might add.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You were exhausted and I could not bear to wake you.”
“Hah.” She scrambled to her feet and cast around for her clothes. “You just wanted to be certain we would not travel at night. Very well. You have succeeded in delaying us and now we shall—”
“Now we shall do precisely as you wish.” Nicholas rose to his feet and pulled her still nude body against his. “Although I would not see the harm in delaying just a little longer.” He trailed his lips along the side of her neck. She quivered beneath his touch and melted against him. Perhaps he was right. Would a short delay make even the tiniest difference?
“No.” She jerked away regretfully and cast him her most patient glance. “Nicholas, I will not be seduced into putting this quest off.”
“Sabrina.” He donned an expression of exaggerated injury. “I had no intention of seduction.” His eyes twinkled. “I merely wanted to make you laugh. Perhaps with a joke or two.”
“I am in no mood for a joke.”
“You could be,” he said, his voice low and ripe with promise.
He stepped toward her, and she held her hands out as if to ward him off. “No, Nicholas, I am quite serious. I wish to go now.”
He shrugged and stepped around her. “I know you do. I was merely looking for my clothing.”
“Of course.” She did not believe his words for a moment, but she couldn’t very well blame him. As much as she wanted the gold, the idea of losing herself in Nicholas’s arms once again was more than tempting.
They dressed quickly and left the tent. The sun peeked over the horizon in a golden glow that forecast the heat to come. Sabrina clenched her teeth in irritation. How could she have slept the night away? “I shall see if I can find some bread and cheese to take with us. You prepare the horses.”
Nicholas raised a brow at her commanding tone. “I was never in the military, but I do recognize an order when I hear one.” He swept a polished bow. “At your service, my lady.”
She blushed a delightful shade of pink, wrinkled her nose, and briskly headed off. He chuckled to himself. She would never cease to amaze him, barking orders as if she were accustomed to controlling and directing armies of men.
He glanced toward the fire. Madison and Erick lay wrapped in blankets, sound asleep. He strode past Madison and a hand snaked out from beneath layers of wool, catching his ankle, stopping him in mid-stride.
“Going for the gold, are you?” Matt said in a sleep-roughened voice.
Nicholas shook off Madison’s hand and grinned. “Sabrina is insisting.”
“That’s a surprise,” Matt muttered.
Nicholas hesitated. “I do hope you know, even if we find this gold by ourselves, we shall still share it equally with you. Your partnership with Sabrina is not in question.”
Matt squinted up at him. “I can’t say that I actually like you, but I’ve seen enough to know that you have a certain sense of honor. I have no doubts about getting my share.” He rolled over and buried himself deeper in his blanket, his voice muffled by the cover. “I just don’t know what I’m going to tell your sister when she discovers she’s missed out on this adventure.”
Nicholas stomach tightened at the reminder of his sister’s relationship with this American. He now acknowledged it, at least to himself, but acceptance was a bit harder to come by. Still, he had no choice. Wynne was far past the age of consent and had her own considerable fortune. There was nothing he could do. “Simply tell Wynne, Sabrina and I choose to savor this moment alone together. She will no doubt find it quite romantic.”
Smothered laughter came from Madison’s blanket, and Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle in return. He took a step to leave, but Madison’s voice checked his move. “Remember what I said, take care of her, Wyldewood. She is as dear to me as your own sister is to you.” A muffled sigh rose from the fabric. “And I am resigned, but not especially pleased, about her choice for a husband. Much as I wager you’re not particularly happy about your sister’s choice for a—”
“For a what, Madison?” Nicholas said coldly.
“Husband, if she will have me. Or whatever she wants.” The voice from the blanket fell silent for a moment, then sounded in resignation. “I love her, Wyldewood.”
Nicholas grinned slowly, his concern for his sister mellowed by the considerable satisfaction of anticipating the merry chase Wynne would no doubt lead the American on. “Then I fear you are in for as much chaos and turmoil as I have faced.” He strode off toward the horses and laughed to himself. “And, with luck, as much delight.”
Sabrina slid from her horse with a weary sigh; she had seriously underestimated the distance to the gold. Already the sun was high overhead, and there was no sight yet of the spit of land described in the letter, nor of the Temple of Isis.
Nicholas regarded her with a hint of what she feared was sympathy in his eyes. “If we do not find the temple soon, we shall have no choice but to turn back.”
She brushed the hair away from her damp forehead. “Not yet. It is barely midday. There are still hours of light left. I cannot give up until all hope is exhausted.” She turned away and retrieved the bread and cheese she’d brought for a hasty meal. Breaking off a hunk of the stale crust, she handed it to him. Her gaze met his. “I have come too far to give up without one final fight.”
He stared silently, then pulled a knife from a sheath he had taken to carrying at his waist, and gestured for the too-warm cheese. She passed it to him; he carved a piece and handed it back. “I fear I still do not understand. I asked you once before, and your answer was distinctly unsatisfying.” He paused and his steely gaze bored into hers. “I ask you again, my love, why do you want this gold so desperately? You no longer need it. I have vast resources, and now everything I have is yours. Why, Sabrina? Why is this so very important to you?”
She stared into his endless eyes, heavy with questions and concern. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind. She had never told anyone outside Matt and Wills and Simon the sorry state Jack’s death had left her in. But as she had so vehemently told Nicholas, Jack was long dead and in the past. Still, didn’t she owe him a certain amount of loyalty? Where did an obligation to one husband end and allegiance to another begin? And what of her own personal code of honor? Didn’t she still have her own sense of duty and morality?
Even if she told him how Jack had left her virtually penniless, that would not completely explain her driven need to achieve financial stability independent of husband and family. A need she feared Nicholas could never understand. God knew, thoroughly pr
oper women did not act on their own. They did not meddle in the management of their own funds, let alone direct their investment. Beyond that, once Nicholas knew about Jack, how much longer would it be before he connected her to Matt’s smuggling and the infamous Lady B?
There was only one answer a man like Nicholas would accept.
“Nicholas,” she said quietly. “How important is honor to you?”
“Honor?” Confusion washed over his face. “I don’t understand. What does honor have to do with this?”
“Bear with me, please, and answer my question.”
He shook his head, obviously puzzled. “Very well. A man’s honor is paramount. Rich as the devil or stricken with poverty, a man’s word is all he has. Honor is the one unquestioned principle that rules any man’s life.”
She nodded slowly. “And what of a woman? Should a woman have to live up to those same high standards?”
He grinned. “Sabrina, women have never been held to the same ideals as men. Their moral strength is simply not up to it.”
“Oh?” She arched a disdainful brow.
His expression fell, and he had the good grace to look chagrined. “Forgive me, my love. For a moment I forgot which woman I was talking to. You are unlike any female I’ve ever encountered. Perhaps my attitudes need a bit of adjustment, at least so far as you are concerned.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He stared for a moment as though realizing she was indeed serious. “I must admit I have never thought about a woman’s sense of honor. I have simply never expected a woman to keep to her word. But upon reflection, I can see how honor could be as strong in a woman as in a man. And could mean as much.”
She squared her shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “As trite and ridiculous and perhaps foolish as it may sound to you, I too have principles I live by. My honor means as much to me as yours does to you. My word is just as binding. I consider loyalty—”
“To Jack?” he said mildly.
She nodded. “In spite of his faults, he deserves no less from me. I owe him at least that. He taught me a great deal.” She pulled a calming breath. “It is that sense of loyalty that keeps me silent. I ask only that you respect my wishes in this.”
His eyes narrowed and he studied her for a long, considering moment. At last he nodded sharply as if he understood or perhaps simply accepted her reasoning. “I see.” His voice was gentle. “I believe I should tell you, I consider you the least foolish woman it has ever been my pleasure to know.”
A weight lifted from her heart and relief flooded her. He could respect honor and loyalty without question and, she hoped, would not quiz her again.
She cast a disdainful glance at the bread in her hand. “I find I have little appetite.” She flicked the crust into the river. “Perhaps the fish will make better use of this than I. Shall we be off?”
He shrugged, and his bread and cheese followed hers. “I daresay I would have a difficult time stopping you. We might as well finish this quest of yours…” He paused. “And lay to rest any ghosts once and for all.”
He helped her mount her horse, climbed on his own, and they headed off. Lost in her own thoughts, Sabrina barely noticed their continued progress along the river’s edge. She wondered at his words. Would this treasure really lay to rest her fears of poverty? Could mere gold close the door to Jack and her past? If so, this quest was worth far more than simple monetary gain, no matter how vast the fortune. It could well save her soul.
A scarce quarter hour into their ride, Sabrina spotted the Temple of Isis.
“Nicholas, look!” She pointed to a distant spot.
Small and square, the ancient building gleamed in the sun. Excitement surged through her and she urged her horse on.
The crumbling structure did indeed stand on a small finger of land thrusting into the Nile. They dismounted before the edifice, and for a moment the centuries fell away. Sabrina could well imagine ancient worshippers here. She could envision them bearing tribute for their goddess and offering prayers for health and wealth and long life.
“Now that we’re finally here,” Nicholas said impatiently, pulling her back to the present, “let’s get this job done.” He untied two spades hanging from his saddle. “Where exactly does the letter say the gold is?”
Sabrina drew out the paper from her beneath her waist and studied it briefly. There was no real need. She knew it by heart. “It says from the temple face that fronts the river, three trees stand to the left.” She glanced from the page to the structure and the point indicated. “There, Nicholas.” Excitement rang in her voice. Three palms towered majestically over the sand.
She strode toward them, glancing from letter to trees and back. “The gold is buried at the base of the third tree, farthest from the temple, on the side away from the river.” She stepped around the palms and halted. Triumph sounded in her voice. “Here! This must be the place.”
Nicholas plucked the letter from her hand, perused it briefly, and returned it to her. “Very well then.” He tossed one spade on the ground and pushed the other into the sand beneath the third tree. “Let’s get to it.”
He dug with a methodical efficiency. Within moments his shirt was soaked and he peeled it off. Sabrina had no such respite from the unrelenting heat. Perspiration trickled along her neck and between her breasts. Her shirt clung to her, wet, sticky, and uncomfortable. The sun beat down without mercy.
“You don’t seem to be making much progress,” she said irritably.
He stopped, leaned on the spade handle, and glared. Sweat glossed the muscles of his arms and shone on the planes of his chest. “No doubt you can do better?”
Better? She was no match for his physical strength, but when it came to determination… “No doubt.”
“Excellent.” He picked the second spade off the ground and tossed it at her feet. “Please, do me the great honor of joining me in this little soiree.”
“I’d be delighted.” She snatched up the spade and dug in furiously. It was far more difficult than he made it look, backbreaking, hot, and hard. She refused to give up, refused to let him see she could not handle this menial chore. Finally she hit on a solid rhythm, one of her spade turns to three of his, but satisfying nonetheless.
They worked silently, the hole growing deeper, the pile of excavated dirt rising higher.
“Sabrina,” Nicholas said thoughtfully. “Does it strike you that this is all a little too easy?”
“Easy?” She gasped and straightened upright. A painful stiffness spread through the small of her back, and her shoulders ached. “I would scarce call this easy.”
“That is not what I meant.” He wiped his arm across his forehead. “Aside from digging through twenty years of accumulated sand and soil, and keeping in mind we have not yet found your treasure, getting to this point has been suspiciously easy.”
“The directions were clear and explicit,” she said sharply. “What on earth is suspicious about that?”
“They weren’t merely explicit, they were really quite simple. Think about it,” he said earnestly. “If you were going to hide a fortune in gold, would you make it so uncomplicated even a total idiot could ferret it out? Locate the temple, turn left, find three trees, and there you have it.” He shook his head. “It’s almost as if burying it was incidental. A chore perhaps. And no one really cared if it was found.”
“Of course they cared if it was found.” Annoyance colored her words. “I’ve no doubt those who buried it fully planned to come back for it one day. Although they probably did not intend for it to remain here for twenty years.”
“Then why haven’t they?”
“I don’t know, Nicholas.” She shot him an angry glare. “And I don’t care. Maybe they didn’t have the opportunity to return. Maybe they’re all dead. It doesn’t matter.”
“Still,” he said slowly, “I wonder—”
“Well, stop your blasted wondering and start digging.” She thrust her spade viciously into the soil. �
��I cannot see that your speculation makes any—”
The spade struck something solid, the thunk reverberating in the hole.
“Nicholas?” she said cautiously.
“Move.” The command came terse and clipped. She scrambled out of the knee-deep pit. With a few deft strokes, Nicholas uncovered what looked to be a modest-sized chest.
Excitement and anticipation spiraled within her and stole her breath. She could not pull her gaze away from the aged cask. “Open it, Nicholas.”
“Let me get it out of this blasted hole first.” He grunted with strain and heaved the chest out in a surprisingly smooth movement. It thudded solidly on the ground. He clambered out of the trench, knelt before the chest, and examined it curiously. “It was not nearly as heavy as I expected,” he said under his breath.
“Open it, Nicholas!” Her hands clenched with expectation.
“Odd, it doesn’t have a lock on it.” Nicholas’s brow furrowed in concentration. “There is only a simple latch.”
“I don’t care if it’s held together with spit and string,” she said, her voice rising, “open the bloody thing!”
Nicholas nodded shortly and grasped the lid. It did not budge. “It seems to be stuck.”
“Nicholas!”
He tried again. Nothing. He breathed deeply and tried once more, putting his full strength into the effort. Time seemed to stop. Sabrina held her breath. Finally, with an anguished creak, the lid opened.
Golden coins winked and glittered in the blinding sunlight.
Sabrina gasped. “Oh, Nicholas, look!” She sank to her knees beside the chest. Her hand shook and she ran her fingers through the shimmering disks, reveling in the cool touch of the precious metal.
Nicholas selected a coin and studied it closely. “These are unlike any coinage I have seen before.”
“They are magnificent.” She grasped fistfuls of the coins and let them fall from her hands in a brilliant shower, the clink of coin against coin melodic and musical.
The Perfect Wife Page 28
