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Only You

Page 10

by Cheryl Holt


  “Where would he have found them?” Mr. Grey asked.

  “I’m guessing it was at the bazaar when we were there.”

  “The boy is a menace.”

  “There’s definitely mischief in him.”

  “Why would he think it was funny to imperil all of you like that?”

  “He’s lonely, Mr. Grey. He’s simply trying to get some attention.”

  “Well, he’s definitely getting it from me. If he pulls a stunt like that while I’m in command, I’ll take a switch to him.”

  “You will not.” She paused, then peeked up at him. “Would you?”

  “This isn’t a park in London. This is Egypt—where tourists die every day from all sorts of causes. It’s not a place for high jinks.”

  “I realize that.”

  “But he doesn’t.”

  “No.”

  They’d reached the ruins, and it had been a lengthier stroll than they’d anticipated, the desert making objects appear closer than they were. There weren’t any pyramids, but plenty of fallen walls and carved pillars. Mr. Grey had informed them there would be similar structures everywhere they went in Egypt, and he seemed bored by their little jaunt.

  Fenton was climbing and running, and Susan was exploring with Mr. Price. Theo and Mr. Grey settled themselves on a stone ledge in a shady spot where they could gaze at the Nile off in the distance.

  “Were you surprised to stumble upon me out on the river?” she asked.

  “Surprised to stumble upon you, but not surprised to find you in another jam. Have you always proceeded in such a slapdash way?”

  “A few months ago, I would have said no, but I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not a very careless person.”

  “You weren’t the one who put evil figurines in the natives’ luggage.”

  “No, but I wasn’t much help when the quarreling started. It was humorous to watch how fast they fled—until we were left on our own. It swiftly grew unnerving.”

  “What would you have done if I hadn’t come along?”

  “I’d have waved that petticoat until my arm fell off.”

  He chuckled and leaned back on his elbows, studying the sky, studying the flat stretch of sand they’d have to cross to return to their camp.

  “Why are you suddenly suspecting you’re careless?” he asked after a quiet, but pleasant interval.

  “Because of all the catastrophes that have plagued me lately. I’d spent most of my life at my father’s estate in the country, so I didn’t have opportunity to get myself in much trouble. But once I traveled to London…well…”

  She staggered to a halt, not keen to be too candid about her past. The feeling of deep friendship that had developed between them after the incident at the bazaar hadn’t faded—on her end anyway. Since she sensed an intimacy that wasn’t there, he inspired confidences she shouldn’t share.

  “What happened when you travelled to London?”

  “It’s too silly to mention.”

  “Tell me,” he said. “I want to know.”

  She glanced over at him. “You haven’t heard the gossip about me?”

  “No, and if I had, I wouldn’t have listened. I’m living proof that stupid stories can spread, and they can’t be tamped down.”

  It was the sweetest comment he could have made. Hadn’t that been her point through the whole debacle? Maybe if they’d been acquainted in London, he’d have stood up for her. She’d tried to stand up for herself, but when faced with her father’s wrath, it had been impossible to gain any ground.

  “Is there juicy gossip?” he inquired. “You’ve piqued my curiosity now. If you don’t reveal it, I’ll have to beg others to fill me in. Wouldn’t you rather confess it yourself?”

  “No. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “I’ll tell a secret if you will.”

  “Fine. You go first.”

  “I didn’t kill my baby brother.”

  She scoffed. “That’s not a secret. I’ve never thought you did.”

  “And I’m not about to receive a huge fortune from my cousin.”

  “Who said you’re about to receive a fortune?”

  “Everyone. Once my brother is formally declared to be deceased, my cousin will inherit everything. The entire estate has been in limbo for years.”

  “When he inherits, he’ll make you rich? Why would he?”

  “It’s supposed to be blood money. I killed my brother so my cousin could be the earl.”

  “Why would you have?”

  “We were thick as thieves when we were boys. The rumor is that he’s rewarding me for services rendered.”

  “Murderous services rendered?”

  “Yes.”

  “People are such idiots.” She scowled furiously, feeling absolutely livid on his behalf. “They actually say that about you?”

  “Yes.”

  He lay on his back, his hands behind his head, and he gazed up at the sky. He looked casually at ease, but she wondered what he was truly thinking.

  He’d been suffering through such wretched tales for most of a decade. The lurid reports were so enthralling that a woman like Edna could still be riveted by them. What must it be like to be him?

  In comparison, her own situation seemed paltry. Yet what if her predicament remained just as potent? What if—ten years on—people were still chortling over her?

  If that occurred, she’d jump off a cliff.

  “I told you two secrets, Lady Theo,” he said.

  “Only one, Mr. Grey. The first one wasn’t a secret, remember?”

  “All right. I told you one. So now, it’s your turn. What happened when you went to London?”

  She was dying to apprise him, but she liked him very much, and she’d hate to have him condemn or chastise. She didn’t assume he would, but she’d endured enough derision to last a hundred lifetimes. If he added on to that tall pile, she’d be crushed.

  “I might have had a spot of trouble there,” she warily stated.

  “What sort of trouble?”

  “I was…ah…caught in a dark parlor with a very inappropriate gentleman.”

  She’d blurted it out, but hadn’t been struck by lightning. Of course she was in the middle of the desert, so death by lightning was highly unlikely. She’d probably get struck later on, and she wouldn’t recollect why.

  “How fascinating.” He sat up, and he was grinning. “Was it anyone I know?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Identify the bounder at once.”

  “Charles Sinclair. Lord Trent?”

  He gasped. “You were seduced by Lord Trent?”

  “No! I was simply in a parlor. He was there too.”

  He laughed and laughed. “I’m sure it was all completely innocent.”

  “It was!”

  “I’ve never heard that Trent has had an innocent encounter with any female.”

  “Well, he had one with me. We just chatted.”

  “And…?”

  “That’s it. He was very kind to me, and I liked him.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then…ah…my almost mother-in-law burst in.”

  “Your almost mother-in-law?”

  “Yes. It was the night my engagement was to be announced to her son.”

  He flopped onto his back, and he laughed even harder. He was so giddily undone by her humiliation that she wanted to hit him. Ultimately, his merriment waned, and he sat up again.

  “I take it you never got married.”

  “No. My fiancé cried off immediately.”

  “And you’re in Egypt because you had to leave so the scandal could die down.”

  “Precisely. My father and aunt insisted on it.”

  “Do you imagine it will help?”

  “I told them it wouldn’t, that it would only make me seem more guilty, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “What if it never dies down?” he asked.

  “I guess I’ll have to tarry in Egypt forever.”

&
nbsp; “There are worse fates.”

  “I can’t envision any,” she said, although she didn’t necessarily believe it.

  She was far from England and all the fussy rules a young lady had to follow. She was in an ancient ruin with the handsomest, most fascinating man she’d ever met, and there wasn’t a chaperone in sight.

  Any marvelous thing could transpire, and she had no idea why Edna had let her trot off with Mr. Grey. Her aunt had been unnerved by events and likely didn’t recall that she’d ordered Theo to stay away from him.

  How lucky for her that they’d been pushed together by such odd circumstances. What if she was never allowed to leave Egypt and had to spend the remainder of her days sailing up and down the Nile with Soloman Grey? It would be a little slice of Heaven.

  “How is Mrs. Valda?” she asked, just to needle him.

  “She’s exotically wonderful. Why?”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Miss…Cassandra?” He scoffed and shook his head. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I don’t understand adult affairs, and I’m trying to figure out the one you’re pursuing with her.”

  “You don’t understand it? Why not? You’ve had the honor of having your world destroyed by the master of seduction.”

  “Lord Trent didn’t seduce me!”

  “Your betrothal was cancelled for absolutely no reason?”

  She frowned. “I don’t want to talk about me.”

  “I do.”

  “Tell me about Mrs. Valda. Aren’t you in a relationship with her?”

  “No.”

  “But I saw you kissing her.”

  “I kiss all kinds of women. I’ve kissed you too, remember?”

  Theo blushed furiously. “How could I forget?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything to a man like me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I seek no ties, and I would never bind myself.”

  “That’s quite a statement.”

  “Isn’t it though?”

  “So…Mrs. Valda is what to you?”

  He leaned nearer and whispered, “My paramour.”

  “You’re trying to shock me.”

  “Are you shocked?”

  “No. I already guessed that your connection was illicit. Is she a trollop?”

  “Definitely. Are you?”

  “No.”

  “Despite your fling with Lord Trent?”

  “It wasn’t a fling! It was chatting!” She glared at him and noted a gleam of jollity in his gaze. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You believe me.”

  “Yes.”

  It was the nicest thing anyone had said to her since Trent had walked out and left her to deal with the consequences on her own. He’d known how much trouble she’d be in, and he hadn’t cared a whit. If she had a bone to pick with him about that night, it was how blasé he’d been about leaving her to face her father by herself.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “For what?”

  “For believing me. No one has since it occurred. Not a single person.”

  “Who wouldn’t believe you? Your face is an open book. I can read every word that’s written there. You couldn’t tell a lie if your life depended on it.”

  She sighed with happiness. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “You’re on a mission to redeem your character, so isn’t your aunt watching you constantly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did she let you wander off into the desert with me? My reputation is worse than yours.”

  “She was tired. I doubt she realized what she’d permitted.”

  “Should we prove her right?”

  “About what?”

  “Should we misbehave so every rumor she’s heard about us becomes true?”

  “No. The moment I sailed from London, I vowed to relentlessly exhibit the most stellar qualities so I could show her and my father they were wrong about me.”

  “But Lady Theo, wouldn’t you like to be naughty once in awhile? How can you bear to be so straitlaced?”

  “I can bear it because I am straitlaced.”

  “What if you stepped out of line occasionally? Are you worried the Earth would spin off its axis?”

  “With my luck? Probably yes.”

  He chuckled, then quieted. They were seated side by side, and they were cataloguing each other’s features. The experience was thrilling and breathtaking.

  Not pausing to consider, she said, “Would you call me Theo? Not Lady Theo. Just Theo?”

  “Certainly, but I wouldn’t want to give your aunt an apoplexy, so maybe just when we’re alone.”

  “I wouldn’t want to give her an apoplexy either.”

  “You’ll have to call me Soloman then, but again only when we’re alone.”

  “How completely stupendous.” He slid his hand onto her waist and drew her to him as she asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m going to kiss you, and I plan to do it correctly this time.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “So? I don’t listen to women.”

  “I’m afraid about it.”

  “Why would you be afraid?”

  “I might like it.”

  He snorted with mirth. “I should hope to shout you’ll like it.”

  “Seriously. I don’t wish to start in on conduct that will make me sad in the end.”

  “Why would it make you sad?”

  “Because no one has ever been so intent about kissing me, and I want it to matter to you as it will matter to me, but it would never be important to you.”

  “Oh, Theo,” he said, “you are just the sweetest thing.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, now shut your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you: I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Yes, but I told you not to.”

  “And I told you that I never listen to women.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, and it was different from the quick peck he’d given her on Valois’s verandah. It was different too from the torrid embrace he’d shared with Mrs. Valda. He didn’t grab her or fondle her bodily parts. He simply held himself very still and let sensation sizzle through her.

  It was lush and delicious and perfect. He smelled like sun and sweat and fresh air, and he tasted like whiskey and tobacco. She slipped an arm around his waist, nestling nearer, liking how solid he felt, how firm and wonderful.

  It didn’t last long enough. He pulled away quite before she was ready. He was smiling, and she was smiling too.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked.

  “No. It was actually splendid.”

  “You liked it—as you were afraid you might.”

  “Yes, and now I’ll mope and pine away, yearning to have a chance to do it again.”

  “You’ll have the chance. I’ll make sure of it.”

  It was a promise, but a bit of a threat too. For several days, they would be in close quarters, and she would see him almost every second. She truly would pine and mope—she hadn’t been lying about it—and every minute she’d hope he was about to drag her into a secluded corner so they could dally.

  It was madness, fraught with constant risk of discovery, but she prayed it would transpire exactly like that. In a fleeting instant, all her vows to behave flew out the window.

  They’d generated a strange intimacy, and she couldn’t say what might have happened, but she heard Susan calling.

  “Theo! Theo where are you?”

  He sighed, sounding regretful at having the tender episode conclude. Might he have enjoyed it as much as she had?

  “It’s your cousin.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He glanced to the west where the sun was dipping toward the horizon. “It’s getting late. We’d better find her and head back.”

  “Will you walk beside me the whole way?”

  “Of course.”

  “
And will you take me exploring again?”

  “Yes, if you’ll let me kiss you again.”

  “I believe I’ll let you.” She grinned. “I believe I just might.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I’m here!”

  It was very late, everyone sleeping in their bunks on various boats, so Susan whispered the words and stepped out of the shadows to wave at Preston.

  He rushed over to where she was hiding behind a palm tree. They clasped hands and raced into the sand toward the ruins they’d explored earlier. The moon was up so it was easy to see the route.

  They reached the location very quickly. Susan led him to the precise spot where she wanted to tarry, an elevated stone floor that was several feet off the ground where they could sit and observe the desert and the river beyond.

  With the Nile shimmering in the distance, it was the most romantic sight she’d ever witnessed. Preston helped her scramble up, then she helped him climb up too. It was only then that they began to laugh.

  If Susan was caught with him, she couldn’t predict what Edna would do, and she didn’t care to find out just yet. Susan would control the moment of exposure, and Edna would learn of the affair when it was too far along for her to prevent the amour.

  “I thought my heart would stop a dozen times before we arrived,” he said.

  “I thought mine would too.”

  “Was your mother dead to the world when you left?”

  “Yes, but my goodness, it was stressful to imagine her waking as I tiptoed off.”

  “The notion is even more stressful for me. I wouldn’t like to be confronted by the grumpy harridan.”

  Susan should have been insulted by her mother being called a harridan, but it was an apt description. “I doubt you’d like being scolded by her.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t.” He gave a mock shudder.

  He’d brought a satchel with him, and he opened it and retrieved a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, napkins, cheese and bread, as well as a blanket to recline on.

  His planning for the encounter underscored how pleased she was to be with an older man. No boy of her acquaintance would have realized they should go to any trouble. Of course the boys of her acquaintance were all too timid and scared of her mother to have dared anything so reckless.

  He spread the blanket so they could snuggle down, then he poured the liquor. He lit a cheroot for himself, and they clinked their glasses together.

 

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