by Cheryl Holt
He was near to fifty as was she, but somehow he didn’t seem to have aged as she had. He was thin and fit, gracious and congenial, and in his presence she felt dowdy and unkempt. It didn’t help that she was wearing her widow’s weeds, but when Colonel Wallace had passed away, she’d sworn she would mourn him forever.
She was in Egypt, and the black clothing was completely unsuitable for the climate, but it made no difference. She would dress as was appropriate to her personal circumstances. She just hated that Valois appeared so comfortable. In his loose trousers and shirt, he was thoroughly at ease, and she was irked at how it put her at a disadvantage. In any situation, she liked to be in charge.
They were in his office, with him seated behind his desk and her in the chair across. The previous evening at supper, he’d had servants everywhere, fanning the guests, and she couldn’t figure out why the blasted man didn’t currently have some of them in the room to move the air around with palm fronds.
She suspected it was a French ploy. He’d keep her miserably hot, which would allow him to manipulate her into agreements she hadn’t intended.
He was renowned for assisting Europeans in Egypt, but it was always for a very high price. He was thrifty and shrewd and could deliver whatever type of aid was required. The fact that much of that aid might be dubious or illegal was of no account.
“How many are in your party?” he asked. “You told me, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”
“Myself, my two children, and my niece.”
“So four in total.”
“Yes.”
“You can go in one boat.”
“I should hope so.”
“But you’ll have to bring your own supplies, so it will necessitate a second boat.”
“I have no idea why,” she huffed.
“I’ve been acquainted with Cedric Webster for a long time. He will expect you to arrive with your own tents, food, servants, and other amenities.”
“It was my understanding that hospitality would be provided.”
“He will likely greet and receive you, madam, but the prior group I sent to him was not so lucky. As for hospitality, you will have to furnish your own. He’s distracted by his work and a bit of a…character, non?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
She hadn’t seen Cedric Webster in two decades, but he and the Colonel had attended school together. He’d always encouraged the Colonel to visit his archeological dig.
She and the Colonel had meant to accept Cedric’s offer, but he’d perished before he could make the trip. Edna viewed the journey as a sort of homage to the Colonel. He hadn’t been able to go, so Edna was going for him—and taking his children.
She wished Fenton and Susan would recognize how fortunate they were to have the chance to honor their father’s memory, but neither of them had really known the Colonel, and it was difficult for her to get through to them on any topic.
She didn’t remember much about Cedric—except that he was a tad eccentric—and when she’d written to ask if she could come, his reply was short but civil. He’d explained that he was very busy, and while she was welcome, he wouldn’t be available to entertain her.
Which wasn’t an issue. She’d spent most of her life in India with the Colonel away from home with his regiment. She was accustomed to amusing herself, and Cedric’s archeological dig would prove fascinating and rewarding. The isolated, desert oasis would also be the perfect place to ingratiate herself to Susan and Fenton.
They never showed her the esteem she deserved as their mother, and she was positive the sojourn at Cedric’s camp would bond them. She chose to ignore the pesky problem that—if bonding was possible—it would have occurred during the lengthy voyage to Egypt, but it hadn’t.
And it hadn’t helped that she’d dragged Theo along. When the scandal had erupted in London, it had seemed a brilliant decision to bring her with them, but Edna couldn’t see that she’d had any beneficial effect on Theo. Nor had Theo produced any inroads for Edna to connect with her children. If anything, Theo’s presence had made matters worse.
“Fine,” she said to Valois, “I’ll need two boats. I trust you can recommend a competent crew?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“I also trust you’ll negotiate a fair price?”
“Certainly, Mrs. Wallace. I have a guide who’s about to head down the river to take another passenger beyond Cedric’s camp. He can escort both of you, and you and the other party can share the cost. It will save you money.”
“This is a native?”
“No. He’s from London.”
Edna nodded. “I’d like to have a British person. I’ve never been overly fond of hiring the locals.”
He nearly served up a retort, but in the end he tamped down his remark, so it went unvoiced.
“Who is your British guide?” she asked. “Did I meet him at supper?”
“No, he didn’t attend, but I believe you know him. It’s Soloman Grey.”
Valois held himself very still, and she suffered the oddest notion that he was testing her, or perhaps taunting her. She stared him down, feeling as if she was being deliberately baited.
“Who is his passenger?”
“Mr. Preston Price. You were introduced to him last night.”
“Yes, I was, and I must confess that neither man would be suitable.”
He bit down a grin. “Why is that?”
“I am traveling with my daughter and my niece.”
“Yes, they’re lovely girls.”
“I agree. They’re very pretty, but extremely impressionable too. I can’t have them forced into close quarters with such handsome rogues.”
“Soloman excels at his job. If there’s trouble, there’s no one I’d rather have guarding my back.”
“Be that as it may, I can’t use him, and I’m not interested in sharing a boat or the expense with Mr. Price.”
“It’s Soloman or a native, Mrs. Wallace.”
“It will have to be a native then.”
“Are you sure that should be your choice?”
Edna didn’t need to reflect. She was determined to set Theo on a better path, so she would never throw her together with Soloman Grey.
As to Mr. Price…well!
She’d spoken to him for all of a minute and had easily deduced his devious attributes. She hadn’t yet heard any negative gossip about him, but with sufficient opportunity, she imagined she could uncover all sorts of unsavory details.
Theo and Susan would not travel with Preston Price or Soloman Grey. They would not fraternize. They would not be…tempted. There! That’s what worried Edna. Both girls had proved themselves frivolous where men were concerned, so they couldn’t be trusted to behave appropriately.
Soloman Grey and Preston Price could sail their own boat down the Nile, but they wouldn’t sail Edna’s!
She’d had enough of Valois, with his fawning and polite obsequiousness. She pushed back her chair and stood.
“When might we be ready to depart?” she asked.
He gave a very French shrug. “How about in two days?”
“Two days will be fine. I’ll be at the hotel. Send me a note if you require any information or assistance from me.”
“I’ve delivered many, many people down the Nile, Mrs. Wallace. I’m positive I’ll be able to get you where you’re going.”
“I’ll be counting my pennies, Monsieur. Don’t fritter them away.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She spun and left, and if she thought he rolled his eyes in exasperation, it had to be a trick of the light.
Theo walked onto the dock behind Monsieur Valois’s villa. His butler had shown her into an exquisite parlor where she could have waited for Edna, but he’d also encouraged her to head to the river if she preferred. The temperature was much cooler by the water.
She’d been on pins and needles, terrified that—whatever location she picked—she’d run into Mr. Grey. He’d claimed to live with
Valois, and she had no reason to doubt him, just as she had no reason to suspect he’d be loitering in the house in the middle of the afternoon.
Still though, she wouldn’t risk another encounter. He was tremendously fascinating, and she wasn’t immune to his massive charm. She didn’t want to fend it off so, should she bump into him, nothing good could come from any meeting.
When Edna had announced that she was calling on Valois, Theo had worked to convince Edna to let her stay at the hotel with Fenton and Susan who’d pleaded a case of indigestion. But after Theo’s prior shenanigans, where she’d trekked off to the bazaar the moment Edna wasn’t watching, Edna had insisted Theo accompany her.
She was trying to relax, but it was impossible. At every noise, she jumped, certain it would be Mr. Grey stepping out onto the dock, with his not realizing she was there too.
Finally, she decided to return to the parlor, and she went to the path that led into the garden and onto the verandah. Just as she would have emerged from the foliage, she heard two people talking. She stopped and peeked through the ferns, disturbed to discover that she’d stumbled on Mr. Grey after all.
He was with the ravishing French beauty, Cassandra Valda. They were in the shadows, their bodies pressed together, with not an inch between them, and Theo was irked to recollect that he’d stood that close to her when they’d flirted the previous evening.
Had it been flirting? Yes, and she was aggravated to learn that he would behave similarly with another woman such a short interval later.
Of course Mrs. Valda was glamorous and exotic in a way Theo could never be, so Theo could understand her allure and why Mr. Grey would be intrigued.
“Will you visit me tonight, darling?” Mrs. Valda asked him, her voice husky and low, her French accent captivating.
“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I have many preparations to complete.”
Theo scowled, not sure if she was upset by the fact that he was leaving or that he would visit Mrs. Valda. From her seductive tone, it didn’t sound as if she planned an innocent rendezvous. Where was her husband?
Mrs. Valda feigned a pout and snuggled herself even closer. “Why bother with the likes of Mr. Price?”
“I have to earn a salary in some fashion. Not all of us have a rich spouse to pay the bills.”
“How many times can you sail up and down the Nile before it becomes a tedious bore?”
He shrugged. “I never tire of it.”
“You’d have much more fun if you remained in Cairo with me.”
“I suppose so, but then how would Mr. Price get to his friends’ camp?”
“Let him hire some natives. They can take him.”
Mrs. Valda wrapped her arms around Mr. Grey’s waist, and she kissed him on the mouth. He eagerly joined in, his arms going around her as well. He pushed her up against the wall, their private parts touching, and they rocked their hips in a stirring motion that had Theo’s pulse racing.
She told herself to sneak back to the dock, but she was afraid they’d hear her shoes crunching on the gravel. If they spun and saw her spying on them, she’d die of mortification. So she was locked in place, wrongly observing an event she absolutely shouldn’t have viewed.
Mr. Grey was stroking his hands over Mrs. Valda’s body, and Theo couldn’t imagine where it would all lead. It almost seemed as if he might start removing her clothes, but nothing more risqué occurred.
Quite abruptly, Mr. Grey appeared weary of her, as if he wasn’t as thrilled by the torrid embrace as he should be. He wrenched his lips from hers, and though she reached for him, he stepped away.
“You toy with me,” she scolded. “You get my blood boiling, but you never cool it down.”
“I’m not about to ravish you on Valois’s verandah.”
“Then you must visit me at my apartment and ravish me there.”
“I’ll think about it.” He pointed into the house. “Now would you please go? I’m very busy today, and you know I don’t appreciate you stopping by.”
“Valois doesn’t mind.”
“He’s just being polite, and considering all he’s done for me, I don’t want to insult him by engaging in inappropriate conduct in his home.”
“He’s done you no favors.”
“You’d be surprised.”
For a quick instant, temper flashed in Mrs. Valda’s eyes, and she might have offered an angry retort, but she reined in her pique and forced a smile.
“I’ll expect you at nine,” she said.
“I can’t guarantee I’ll be there.”
“I’ll have supper waiting.”
“I’ll try to come.”
“You’ll be away for weeks. I’ll be so lonely without you.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Ooh, you horrid oaf. You never make me feel special.”
“But Cassandra, it’s what you love about me. I’m the only man in your paltry circle of admirers who doesn’t sit up and beg when you give me orders.”
“I can’t figure out why I expend any effort on you.”
“Neither can I actually.” He pointed into the house again. He turned her and, with a hand shockingly placed on her bottom, he shoved her in the correct direction.
“Beast,” she muttered, but she went without glancing back.
He stood, observing her departure until she was swallowed up by the shadows, then he whipped around and said, “You can come out now, Lady Theodosia.”
Theo was so astonished that she couldn’t stifle her gasp. She staggered out of the foliage and onto the verandah, hoping she didn’t look too flustered.
“How did you know I was there?” she asked.
“Where you’re concerned, I seem to have a second sense.”
She scoffed. “You do not.”
“You’re right, I don’t. I caught a glimpse of you sneaking down the path from the dock.”
“And you just let me tarry and ogle you?”
“I was curious to see how long you’d watch.”
“Honestly, Mr. Grey. I shouldn’t have witnessed any of it.”
“I notice you didn’t flee in revulsion.”
“I was afraid you’d hear me. I couldn’t decide whether to stay or go.”
“So you stayed.”
“Yes, and I heartily apologize.”
“You got an eyeful.”
“I can’t say I’m glad of it.”
There were several feet of distance separating them, and as he marched over to her, she braced as if for an assault.
When he was near, the atmosphere sizzled and sparked, and she’d never felt anything like it. The unusual commotion made her wish she could linger in his presence forever, but if Edna realized he was in the villa, and that Theo was talking to him, she’d have an apoplexy.
He kept coming until he was much too close, until the toes of his boots slipped under the hem of her skirt. She should have moved away, but as with their prior encounter, she was certain he was trying to rattle her or was testing her mettle.
Well, he didn’t scare her, and he couldn’t rattle her, so he was wasting his time in being so forward. She was enjoying it very much.
“What are you doing here?” he inquired.
“My aunt is meeting with Monsieur Valois to arrange our transport down the Nile. I’d ask what you were doing, but I saw what it was.” She raised a brow. “You and Mrs. Valda are awfully cozy.”
“She’s a trollop,” he baldly admitted.
“Where is her husband?”
“Back in Paris.”
“He lets her travel alone? In light of her…ah…loose tendencies, is that wise?”
“I don’t think he lets her travel. I think he dragged her out of France. There was some sort of scandal, and they journeyed to Egypt and dawdled until the gossip died down.”
Was Cairo the spot where ruined European women were brought to hide and regroup? Apparently so. She wanted to feel sorry for Mrs. Valda, or perhaps feel some commiseration or empathy, but Theo was jealous
of her intimate relationship with Mr. Grey.
Ever since he’d saved Theo at the bazaar, it seemed as if they had formed a unique connection. Though she hardly knew him, and he didn’t appear to like her very much, she viewed him as her very own friend, and she wasn’t inclined to share him with another.
“Her husband isn’t here.”
“No.”
“Why is she?”
“He returned to Paris, but she refused to accompany him. There was a huge ruckus over it.”
“Aren’t you bothered by her low morals?” Theo asked.
“Bothered…how?”
“Are the two of you…ah…”
Theo might have finished the sentence with lovers, but she’d never uttered the word in her life and wasn’t about to start.
“Are you trying to learn if Mrs. Valda and I are engaged in an illicit liaison?”
“Yes.”
“Of course we are. What man wouldn’t jump at the chance to trifle with her?”
“Isn’t it adultery?”
“Yes, Lady Theodosia, it’s adultery.”
“But it’s wrong. It’s a sin.”
“Yes, it is, but that’s why it’s so much fun. And don’t forget, I am not the one who’s married. She is. I’m free to behave however I please.”
To her stunned surprise, he swooped in and kissed her on the lips. It was swift and fleeting, and she hadn’t expected it. She shrieked with dismay and leapt away so rapidly that she stumbled and nearly fell. He reached out to steady her.
“What on earth made you do that?” she demanded.
“I wanted to discover how you’d react.”
“You were just kissing Mrs. Valda and now you kissed me!”
“Yes, and if you hadn’t swooned like an innocent maiden, I might have enjoyed it too.”
“You’re disgusting. What are you? A rutting dog? A lecher? You see a woman and instantly have to have her?”
He grinned. “Not every woman. Just certain ones.”
“Aren’t I lucky?”
“Yes, you are. Not every female is fortunate enough to garner my attention.”
“Don’t do it again. I’m not interested.”
“Aren’t you?”
