"If the two of you will excuse me, I will wish you good night. I'll try not to intrude on your lives any longer than is necessary."
* * *
After Mallory left the room, her parents exchanged glances.
"Phoebe should have taught her better manners," her mother said. "She seemed to have a rather cold nature, don't you think?"
After Mallory had bathed, she slipped into bed, planning her departure. The next day she would make the long voyage down the Nile and take the first ship for home. She would go to Cousin Phoebe and ask if she could live with her.
It had been a mistake for her to come to Egypt. She thought of Michael, and turned her face into the pillow, crying bitter tears. If she had remained in England, she would not have fallen in love with a man who would never love her in return.
She fell asleep clutching the signet ring that Michael had placed on her finger when they stood before the holy man. This was all she had left to remember him by. This ring was hers, and she would keep it with her always.
Chapter 29
It was early morning as Mallory dressed in her plain gray traveling gown. She counted out her money and sighed with a heavy heart. There would be enough to pay for her passage to England, but she doubted that she would have enough left to take a public coach to Cousin Phoebe's house. She would have to put her pride aside and ask her father for money.
Mallory hadn't expected to find her mother and father awake at such an early hour, but they were in the dining room having breakfast when she entered.
"Good morning, Mallory," her mother said, indicating the chair near her. "I'm glad we have this time together. Will you breakfast with us?"
"Yes, thank you."
Lady Julia spooned thick porridge into a bowl and handed it to Mallory. "That's a ghastly gown you are wearing. I suppose it's one Phoebe chose for you. She never knew anything about style."
Mallory became angry at their criticism of her cousin. "Cousin Phoebe managed quite well on the money you allotted her."
Lord Tyler took a sip of coffee, then turned to his wife. "You see how disrespectful your daughter is? I told you we should have sent her away to school, but you insisted your cousin could look after her."
Mallory came to her feet, her head held high. "I'm leaving today. But I find myself short of funds. I'm loath to ask you for money, but I have no choice."
Her father ducked his head, and she could see that he was embarrassed. When he looked up at her, his eyes were sorrowful. "Some people just shouldn't have children, Mallory. I know we haven't been good parents to you, but we had a life we loved, and you just didn't fit into it."
Mallory shook her head. "I don't know either of you, and I don't ask you to know me. All I want is to leave. If you'll assist me, I'll have Safwat drive me to the docks."
He stood. "I'll get the money from my office."
When he left, Mallory looked at her mother. "I apologize for any inconvenience that I may have caused you. I can assure you that you will never again be bothered by me.
Her mother stood up and moved to Mallory, but didn't touch her. "I have many regrets in my life, and one is that I never knew my own daughter." She shrugged. "If you had been born the son your father wanted, it would have been different. You can't understand what pride a man can have in a son. They like to boast about their son's accomplishments and—"
"I understand," Mallory said, moving to the door. "I've always known what a disappointment I was to you."
"Would you like us to accompany you to the docks?" her mother asked, as if that would make up for some of their neglect.
"No, if you don't mind, I'd prefer to go alone."
"Your father and I will be criticized if you travel without a chaperon."
Mallory looked at the stranger who by birth was her mother. Her mother's only concern seemed to be what people thought. "I will keep to myself and give no one the least reason to blame you for my behavior."
Lady Julia looked doubtful. "I suppose there's nothing else we can do."
By now her father had returned, and he handed Mallory an envelope. "This should cover all your expenses. I have been more than generous with you. When you get home, buy yourself a new wardrobe."
"Thank you." She turned to the door. "I must hurry because Safwat is waiting to take me to the docks."
They walked with her to the front door. "You wouldn't have enjoyed life with us, Mallory," her mother said. "We travel so often and don't really have a place we call home."
"You have a home in England that is suffering from neglect," she reminded them.
"We feel no kinship with Stoneridge, since it will pass to a distant cousin on your father's death."
Her father patted her shoulder, and her mother pressed a stiff kiss on her cheek.
Safwat helped Mallory into the buggy, and she didn't look back when they drove away. There was nothing for her here; there was nothing for her in England, either.
She could see herself becoming a spinster like Cousin Phoebe, and ending her days alone and friendless. But she'd had one glorious night of love, and no one could take that memory away from her.
* * *
A long line of riders wound its way across the desert. Michael and his family stayed abreast with Prince Khaldun, while British soldiers rode beside Bedouin tribesmen. When they came to the Nile River, they followed it toward Cairo. Just before they reached the outlying vicinity of the city, Prince Khaldun called a halt.
"This is as far as I go." He and Michael dismounted and embraced. Khaldun's eyes were sorrowful. "When friends part, it is like losing a part of one's self, but when those friends are like brothers, they will never lose that friendship."
Michael nodded. "We will meet again, Khaldun."
Michael knew that he would never know a better friend. "Yes, we shall meet again. Good friends shouldn't be apart too long."
Michael mounted his horse and allowed his eyes to run down the line of Jebeliya warriors. He'd come to know so many of them. He had eaten their food and fought at their side. A part of him would always be Akhdar 'em Akraba. He raised his hand in a silent salute, and turned his mount toward Cairo.
When Michael topped a sand dune and turned to look back, Khaldun and his soldiers had disappeared. Even their horses' hoof prints had disappeared in the shifting sand.
* * *
Lord Tyler and Lady Julia were packing crates of artifacts to be shipped to the British Museum when Safwat entered the room.
"There are very important people wanting to see you," he said, bobbing into a bow. "Very important."
Lord Tyler laid an ebony statue aside and looked up in irritation. "Who is it this time, Safwat?"
"Very important," he repeated.
Lady Julia patted her hair into place. "I'm weary anyway, Tyler. We'll see who it is, but don't offer them tea. We don't want to be late for Lady Mangrem's dinner. She always has the most interesting guests."
* * *
Michael glanced around the small sitting room that seemed more like a museum, looking for anything that would prove Mallory was there. But there was nothing that was hers.
Raile picked up a small Egyptian statue of Osiris and turned it over in his hand and then handed it to Kassidy. "Fake," he said distastefully.
"You've a good eye for authenticity," Lord Tyler said, entering the room with his wife. "Most people are deceived by that statue."
"I'm surprised it would fool anyone since it's made of black marble, a substance not available to ancient Egyptians."
"That's right," Lady Julia declared. "But not many people are aware of that." She looked curiously at the four people in the room. The woman wore an emerald green riding habit that could only have come from Paris. The three men were obviously wealthy, and of great importance.
"My servant failed to give us your names," Lady Julia said by way of apology.
Michael stepped forward. "These are my parents, the duke and duchess of Ravenworth, and my brother-in-law, Lord Glencarin. I'm s
ure your daughter had told you about me—I'm Michael."
The Stanhopes were clearly impressed by their guests. But they were also curious.
"Well," Lord Tyler said, "I have certainly heard of you. Who hasn't heard of the DeWinter family? But Mallory didn't mention that she was acquainted with you."
Michael looked stunned, and then annoyed. "Perhaps if you would ask Mallory to join us, we can clear up everything. Where is she?"
Lady Julia offered them a seat. "Would you like tea?"
Kassidy could see that her son was displeased that Mallory had not told her parents about their marriage, and she was afraid of what he might say, so she intervened. "That would be nice, thank you. We can't stay long though, because the captain of our yacht told us that we must get under way before sundown. We only came for your daughter."
Lord Tyler looked confused. "What do you want with Mallory?" Then he became suspicious. People such as the DeWinters would not be interested in his daughter unless she had done something to displease them.
"I know we English should behave in a way that is a credit to queen and country," Lord Tyler said, "so, let me assure you that you don't have to be concerned about Mallory's actions any longer, since she is on her way back to England."
"When did she leave?" Michael demanded harshly.
"Please don't concern yourself," Lord Tyler said. "And I want you to understand that Mallory's misconduct has nothing to do with her mother and me. She was raised by my wife's cousin, and we saw little of her. If her actions seem unconventional, I pray that you will consider her youth and her lack of guidance and not blame us."
Warrick looked quickly at Kassidy, knowing that Lord Tyler had said the wrong thing.
Raile placed his hand on Kassidy's arm, hoping to calm her, but she shook his hand off.
Kassidy's eyes were blazing. "I can no longer allow you to malign your daughter, Lord Tyler. While I have not met her personally, I have come to admire her greatly. She has courage and character that many of us lack. Rather than condemning her, you should be glad that you are blessed with such a daughter. I can assure you that this family has every reason to be grateful to her, and we shall cherish her as you obviously haven't."
Lady Julia moved forward to support her husband. "Just what did our daughter do that you think is so wonderful?"
Raile spoke up before Kassidy could inform them. "Perhaps we should let our son tell you," he said, looking pointedly at Kassidy.
Michael felt no better about these people than his mother did. "Not only did Mallory save my life and that of my father, but she did a great service for her country, as well. My father plans to advise Her Majesty of Mallory's actions, so she will be justly rewarded."
He looked at Mallory's mother, who could only stare at him in amazement. She had to sit down when she heard his next words.
"Apparently Mallory hasn't told you that she is my wife."
Lord Tyler and Lady Julia looked at each other in stunned silence. Then the significance of Michael's announcement struck them.
"Your Grace," Lady Julia said, turning to Kassidy. "To think of it, our families united by marriage. I can't tell you how happy this makes me. We should intercept Mallory and bring her back. We'll have a grand party. Perhaps the viceroy himself will attend."
Once again, Raile thought it best to intervene before Kassidy could find her voice. "You will excuse us if we seem impatient. But we are on our way to England."
Lady Julia could see all her grand plans dissolving. "But surely you could remain for a few days longer? I'll send Safwat to fetch my daughter. Perhaps her barge hasn't yet sailed."
"Thank you, no," Michael said emphatically. "I will find my wife without your assistance." He turned to leave, his anger smoldering.
Kassidy and Raile followed after him without a word.
Warrick, enjoying himself, smiled politely as he paused in the doorway. "I don't believe we'll be staying for tea after all."
After their guests had departed, Lord Tyler and Lady Julia exchanged glances. It was Mallory's father who spoke first. "We deserve no better than we got, Julia. We have cut Mallory out of our lives, and now she has a new family. I can only imagine how cold and heartless we appeared to the duke and duchess."
"Oh, Tyler, we have treated our daughter badly. I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to see us again."
"It's strange, but I find myself comparing my behavior to that of Henry the Eighth. Like him, I wanted a son desperately. And like King Henry, when I found myself with a daughter, I rejected her. His daughter, Elizabeth, was the greatest monarch England has ever known, and similarly, our daughter has distinguished herself with no help from us. She will one day be the duchess of Ravenworth. We, I fear, will not be a part of her life."
"Nor do we deserve to be. For the first time, I'm ashamed of myself. She needed me as a mother, and all I could do was criticize her. It's no wonder she didn't tell us about her marriage."
"I can't even be angry that Lord Michael didn't ask my permission to marry Mallory. Why should he—I've never been a father to her."
"Oh, Tyler, what have we done?"
Chapter 30
The Nightingale dipped her sails as a signal for the cargo barge to come about. Since a British flag waved above the yacht, the captain of the ship called out in English, "What is your business with us?"
Captain Norris called back to him. "This is the ship of the duke and duchess of Ravenworth. Their daughter-in-law is aboard your ship. Her husband wishes to board you to get his wife."
"Come ahead," the Egyptian captain called back, thinking only an Inglizi could lose his wife.
Mallory's eyes came open with a start. Had the ship stopped? Most probably they had put in at some port to take on cargo. She turned to her side, wanting only to reach the headwaters of the Nile so she could board a ship that would take her to England. Tears gathered in her eyes. She was not the same woman she'd been when she came to Egypt. She had known happiness, and she had known sadness. She had fallen deeply in love and she had killed a man. How could she take up her old life as if nothing had happened?
She buried her face in the pillow. She would never be happy again.
The door of her cabin flew open, and she jerked her head up to see Michael standing in the doorway. Light from the corridor poured into the small quarters, and she could see that his features were etched in anger.
"Don't you think it's a bit usual for a wife to leave her husband without asking him?"
She sat up slowly, not knowing what to think about his sudden appearance. "H-how did you get here?"
"Never mind that." He reached out for her and lifted her into his arms. "You will not leave me until I tire of you." His green eyes probed into her blue eyes. "And I have not yet tired of you."
"Michael, I—"
"Be silent! You have already caused me no end of trouble. You are coming with me, and I will hear nothing to the contrary."
Mallory thought her heart would burst with happiness. He wanted her, or he would never have come after her. "Yes, Michael."
He reached for the gown that she had folded neatly across a chair. Expertly, he pulled it over her nightgown, turned her around, and laced the back.
When Mallory would have spoken, he silenced her with a glare.
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her up the dimly lit passage to the upper deck, where curious onlookers watched with smiles.
"Thank you, captain," Michael said. "I'll just have my man load my wife's belongings on my ship, and we'll trouble you no more."
"Yes, Excellency," the Arab captain said with feeling. "You should beat your wife often, as I do mine. Then she will think before she leaves you."
Michael's eyes gleamed as he glanced down at Mallory. "Perhaps I'll take your advice. This woman is a most disobedient wife."
Mallory buried her face against his chest, too happy to speak.
Without ceremony, Michael flung Mallory over his shoulder and climbed over the railing and down a
rope ladder to a waiting longboat, where he plopped her onto a seat.
She saw the huge ship just a few feet away. "Where are you taking me?"
"To my family's yacht."
After her trunk had been brought aboard the longboat, they were under way. Mallory searched Michael's face. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."
He glanced, not at her, but at the Nightingale. "My parents wait to be formally introduced to you. I believe you will understand when I say they are very curious about you."
She looked down at her simple gray linen gown, feeling embarrassed at how shabby it was. "But I'm not dressed properly to be presented to your family."
He turned to stare at her. "Perhaps you would prefer a long black gown and a veil over your face?"
She lowered her gaze, wondering how much he knew about the role she played in Caldoia. "No, I will never again wear the clothing of an Arab woman."
He was aware that they were being observed from both ships, so he merely took her hand. "What am I to do with you, Mallory?"
"You could have allowed me to reach England, then I would have troubled you no more."
His eyes swept her shimmering hair that seemed to capture the dying rays of the sun. "No, I couldn't do that. Like it or no, you are my wife."
She had no opportunity to answer because they were approaching the Nightingale.
Once Mallory was on board, she was surrounded by Michael's family. The duchess took her hand and led her down the steps of a companionway into a brightly colored sitting room, while the rest of the family followed.
When they were away from curious eyes, Kassidy hugged Mallory and then stood back to look her over from head to foot and smiled. "I can see why my son married you, my dear. You are lovely."
"It's my turn," Raile said, taking Mallory's hand and raising it to his lips. "My son is fortunate indeed. Welcome to the DeWinter family, Mallory."
Mallory hadn't expected such kindness. Her eyes were shining with tears when Lord Warrick came up to her and brushed her cheek with a kiss.
"I know we must be a bit overwhelming to you," Lord Warrick told her. "I once stood where you are now, and was enfolded into the circle of this extraordinary family." He glanced at Michael, who had just entered, after directing the men where to place Mallory's trunk. "This family is fortunate indeed, for all our women are beauties."
Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) Page 24
