by Anne Herries
Chloe bit her lip. She was tempted to snap at him, but they were going to be on the same ship for a while and there was no point in creating an unpleasant atmosphere as they were bound to meet from time to time.
‘I am sorry,’ she said, trying for composure. ‘Can it be cleaned on board? I shall be happy to pay the bill.’
‘It is of no consequence,’ he repeated, but this time he smiled. Chloe realised that he was quite attractive when his features relaxed from the harshness they had assumed earlier. His hair was black, cut short and slicked back from his forehead, and his eyes were almost as dark as his hair. He spoke with a cultured English accent, but somehow she did not think he was entirely English. His features were too strong, too—would exotic be the right word? She wasn’t sure. He frowned at her. ‘Is there something wrong?’
Chloe realised that she had been staring and blushed. ‘No—forgive me. I must join my friends.’
She left him abruptly, her heart racing. There was something a little unnerving about him, something that made her uneasy. There was an arrogance about him, and something she couldn’t quite place—a feeling that beneath the surface this man was not quite what he seemed. He certainly wasn’t at all like most of the men she knew.
At college she’d met serious-minded professors, the brothers, cousins or fathers of her friends and fellow students. They were all much alike, gentlemen and sons of gentlemen. Some had been nicer than others, of course, but they had all behaved properly, treating her with the respect due to a young woman of good family.
At times Chloe had almost wished they wouldn’t be quite so respectful, but she knew she wasn’t the kind of girl that drove men wild with passion. She wasn’t pert and pretty like Justine, and she didn’t realise that her quiet, thoughtful manner was in itself very attractive—or that she was rather lovely in her own way.
‘Oh, there you are, my dear,’ Charles Hicks greeted her with a smile as she went up to him. ‘We were just wondering where you had got to, weren’t we, Amelia?’
The professor and his secretary, who was of a similar age to himself, had seen many such send-offs on board ship, and had chosen to stay well back from the crowd flooding the rails. They were both dressed in sober tweed suits, which seemed quite unsuitable for the occasion to Chloe.
‘Oh, Chloe was saying goodbye to her friend,’ Amelia Ramsbottom said. ‘You can’t expect her to spend all her time with us, Charles. She’s young and this is her first time on board ship. She ought to enjoy herself while she can.’ Chloe was aware of a slight hostility in the professor’s secretary, and suspected she might be a little jealous of her. Amelia had been travelling with him for years and must wonder why he had invited a young woman to accompany them this time. Chloe had wondered herself at first, but she suspected it was merely kindness on the part of her father’s old friend. He was a successful man, and could afford to indulge his whims, and no doubt he had been aware that money was a little tight in the Randall household.
‘It is certainly all very exciting,’ Chloe said. ‘But I want to help Professor Hicks as much as I can.’
‘I shan’t need you all the time,’ he said. ‘You must enjoy the voyage, my dear. I may ask you to take some dictation for me. Amelia types all my work beautifully, but I go too fast for her when I dictate. Your shorthand should be a big help to me.’
‘I’m going to my cabin,’ Amelia announced. ‘If I were you, Chloe, I should do the same. You may find yourself feeling a little unwell once we get properly underway.’
Charles Hicks watched her go. She was a small, thin woman with greying hair and a prim manner. ‘I fear Amelia is not a good traveller on board, Chloe. She has been a loyal companion for many years, but I really believe she would prefer to stay in England. I think this may also be my last adventure.’
‘Oh, that would be a shame, sir.’
‘Please don’t call me sir—Charles. You must call me Charles.’ His faded blue eyes twinkled at her. He was still a good-looking man though into his senior years. ‘I am sixty-nine, Chloe. I think I shall be content to settle once I have completed this trip. I spent many years in Egypt, as you know, and I have been into the desert on numerous occasions—but I am still looking for a lost city…’ He laughed as she looked at him. ‘Something as wonderful as Petra that would make my name…but I dare say I shall never find it.’
Chloe smiled her understanding. She knew about Petra—in Greek it meant ‘city of rock’ and was an ancient city of Arabia, situated between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Aqabah, near the intersection of important caravan routes from Gaza to the Mediterranean. It had once been a flourishing city, but then it fell into decay and had been lost, rediscovered in the nineteenth century by a Swiss explorer.
‘I expect many people would like to discover something as wonderful as Petra,’ she said. ‘As you know, my own interest is in discovering beautiful poetry that has been ignored for a long time. Of course, I don’t read Arabic, though I can recognise certain words, but I have done some research and I have been fortunate enough to find some wonderful translations into French and English, which I am collecting together for a book I hope to publish one day.’
‘Yes, so your father told me. I find that interesting. You must show me your work another day, Chloe—but now I think we should follow Amelia’s lead and find our cabins.’
Chloe had been given an inside cabin, which was disappointing in a way, because it would have been pleasant to look out at the sea and the sky. However, she knew that they were more expensive, and she didn’t intend to spend much time in her cabin anyway.
She had wondered how long it would take her to find her sea legs, but soon discovered that she was unaffected by the slight swell of the sea. It might be different if they hit rough weather, but for the moment she was feeling fine and enjoying herself.
Amelia did not join them for dinner that evening, which Chloe thought a shame since there was a festive air as everyone was greeted by the captain when they entered the dining room. Chloe and the professor hadn’t been invited to the most important table that evening, but the other passengers at their own table seemed very friendly and she enjoyed being introduced and talking to all of them.
‘Is this your first voyage?’ a rather plump lady called Mrs Vermont asked. ‘I am a seasoned traveller, of course, but my niece Jane is with me for the first time. You two girls will be company for each other. Now, isn’t it lucky that you are both here?’
Jane Vermont seemed rather a silly girl to Chloe, but they were of a similar age so she smiled and agreed. It would be impossible to avoid the Vermonts and she would need someone to talk to. Most of the other passengers seemed to be much older, which was a little disappointing.
‘What are you going to do after dinner?’ Jane asked her. ‘There’s masses of entertainment—a dance, the live show and they are running a film this evening. I would like to see it, but Aunt Vera doesn’t want to go.’
‘It depends,’ Chloe said cautiously. ‘What are they showing?’
‘I’m not sure—shall we ask the captain later?’
Chloe thought the captain would have more important things to occupy his time, and surely there were enough stewards to ask anyway. Jane was looking towards the top table, smiling and waving, obviously wanting to be noticed.
Chloe glanced that way herself and saw that one of the favoured guests was the man she had bumped into earlier. He was wearing a very elegant black dinner suit and a pristine white shirt with a black bow tie. As she looked at him, he seemed to become aware of her and lifted his glass to her in a salute.
‘Who is that perfectly divine man?’ Jane asked immediately. ‘He’s so handsome—just like Rudolph Valentino, dark and mysterious and sort of threatening.’ She gave an artificial shiver. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No—we met briefly on deck earlier, but we weren’t introduced,’ Chloe said and looked down. The smoked salmon she was eating had suddenly become very interesting and she kept her eyes firmly fixed on her p
late. Her heart was behaving very stupidly, and she was afraid that her cheeks might be flushed.
‘Well, he seems very interested in you,’ Jane said and giggled. ‘I wish he would look at me like that…smouldering, that’s the word.’ She smiled at him, but to her discomfiture got nothing but a blank stare. ‘Did you know that there is a film crew on board? They are American, I hear.’
‘A film crew?’ Chloe looked at her, her attention caught. ‘I had no idea—are there any famous actors or actresses with them?’
‘No—I think they probably flew to wherever they’re going. The director is with the crew, though. I think he wants to take some shots on board for some reason. They say he’s looking for a star for his new picture.’ She preened her fluffy dark hair. ‘Do you think I look a bit like Mary Pickford, Chloe?’
Chloe didn’t think she looked at all like the famous star everyone called the ‘World’s Sweetheart’, but she was embarrassed to say so straight out.
‘Well, perhaps a little bit,’ she said. ‘Your hair is the same as hers was in her last film.’
She saw that Jane was pleased, and it was obvious that she had chosen to wear her hair that way in order to look as much like the star as possible.
She really was a bit silly, Chloe thought, and wished her cousin had been on the ship with them, but it was no use sighing over something she couldn’t have. She glanced briefly towards the table, and saw that he was lighting a cigarette for a woman sitting to his left. She was a very beautiful woman, expensively dressed and very sure of herself as she smiled into his eyes.
Chloe looked away again quickly. She wasn’t in that sort of league, and couldn’t compete with a woman like that—not that she wanted to, of course.
‘Do say you will come and watch the picture with me,’ Jane said as people began to make a move from their tables a little later. ‘I just asked one of the stewards and he said it was Valentino’s latest picture. I am longing to see it.’
‘I saw that before I came away,’ Chloe said, but then as Jane’s face fell. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.’
‘You two young things get off,’ Mrs Vermont said indulgently. ‘I’ll sit here and keep the professor company for a while.’
Chloe caught the look of dismay in his eyes before he managed to hide it and smiled inwardly.
‘Do you mind?’ she asked him. ‘Or is there some work you would like me to do for you this evening?’
He looked tempted, but shook his head. ‘I am not such an ogre as to make you work on your first evening, Chloe. No, my dear, you run along and enjoy yourself.’
Jane was full of the film as they left the small theatre afterwards. She went on and on about the star of the film being so handsome and exciting, until Chloe thought she would scream.
‘I really ought to go now,’ she said. ‘I must see if Miss Ramsbottom needs anything before I go to my own cabin.’
In her haste to escape her chattering companion, Chloe took the next turning, which she imagined to be the corridor leading to her own and Miss Ramsbottom’s cabins. However, when she got to the end and found that it led into yet another corridor leading in a different direction, she realised that she had come the wrong way.
As she turned to retrace her steps, she saw someone coming towards her and hesitated, wondering if there was some way to avoid another meeting. It would look foolish if she went back the way she knew led only to the staterooms, so she really had no choice but to stand her ground.
‘Ah, so we meet again,’ he said and looked amused. ‘I really think we should introduce ourselves, Miss…?’
Chloe hesitated, then took a deep breath. This was ridiculous!
‘Chloe Randall,’ she said and offered her hand. ‘I am travelling with Miss Amelia Ramsbottom and Professor Charles Hicks—and I seem to have taken a wrong turning.’
‘Very easy to do,’ he said, and took her hand, holding it for a moment before releasing it. ‘I am Armand…Philip Armand…and if you would care to tell me the number of the cabin you seek, I should be delighted to help you find your way, Miss Randall.’
Chloe was trying to make up her mind what nationality he was. His surname sounded a bit French, but she didn’t think he looked French—and he had hesitated for a moment, almost as if the name he had given her was not his own. But surely he wouldn’t lie—why should he?
‘I—it is nice to meet you,’ Chloe replied formally and then felt silly. ‘My cabin is number fifty-two and Miss Ramsbottom’s is fifty-nine. I was going to call on her and see how she was feeling before I went to bed. She wasn’t well earlier.’
‘Bed so early?’ His brows rose, a curl of amusement on his lips. He was very much the sophisticated man of the world, and made Chloe aware of how young and naïve she must seem. She knew that her clothes were too young for her, and nowhere near as elegant as the other women on board were wearing. ‘You shouldn’t think of such a thing while on board ship, Miss Randall. A young girl like you should be dancing the night away with a handsome partner.’
Chloe knew he was mocking her. She hadn’t seen any handsome young men on board—and the few older ones who fitted his description would be dancing with someone more interesting than little Chloe Randall.
‘I assure you that I have no intention of dancing with anyone, Mr Armand,’ she said. ‘It has been a long day and I am tired. If you could please direct me to my cabin, I shall not trouble you longer. Especially if there is someone waiting for you…’
Now why had she said that? It sounded as if she were interested—and she wasn’t! Not in the least.
‘Unfortunately there is no one I care to dance with either,’ he replied, smiling oddly. ‘My fiancée was forced to remain in London. However, I should be happy to have you as a partner if you do feel tempted to dance another evening—when you are not so tired.’
To her annoyance, Chloe found herself blushing again. How was it that he was able to make her feel like a stupid schoolgirl? She was about to ask him for directions again when she saw a steward come out of one of the cabins, and turned to him quickly.
‘Certainly, I can show you the way, miss,’ he replied to her hasty question. ‘I am going that way now. Please follow me. Goodnight, Mr Armand.’
So he had not been lying about the name after all, Chloe thought as she nodded to him and followed the steward. Philip Armand shot her an amused glance and walked on down the corridor to where Chloe knew the staterooms were situated. They were much larger than her cabin, and had an opening so that the fortunate guest could step outside in privacy and take the air. She had been told that there was also a sitting room and two large bedrooms, and felt a little envious of the passengers who could afford such luxury.
But she was lucky to be here at all! Chloe reminded herself. She would never even have had the chance to travel abroad like this if it had not been for the generosity of Charles Hicks.
She knocked at Amelia’s door and was asked to enter. When she went in, she saw that the poor woman was lying flat on her back and looked most unwell.
‘Can I do anything for you?’ she asked, and Amelia shook her head. ‘Would you like me to call the doctor to you?’
‘Thank you, no,’ Amelia replied. ‘The steward has already given me something to help settle me. It was good of you to ask, Chloe—but all I want is to be left in peace. I shall be all right in a day or so.’
‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you,’ Chloe said and closed the door quietly as she left.
She was thoughtful as she went into her own cabin. Who was Mr Armand, and why had she had the distinct impression he was lying when he gave her his name?
There was really no reason why he should lie to her—or none that she knew of. Perhaps he was travelling under a false name? Yet why should he be? Was he a spy or something underhand like that—a gangster, perhaps?
Chloe didn’t visit the cinema regularly for nothing! And yet he didn’t look anything like the pictures she’d seen of gangsters in the movi
es.
She considered what he did look like, and decided he was rather like a picture she had seen in a newspaper of a foreign prince a few weeks earlier. No, not a prince…but she was sure it was something of the sort. She couldn’t quite place the article, but she thought it had something to do with politics…or was it big business? She wasn’t certain, and gave it up.
It surely didn’t matter, because she wasn’t likely to have much to do with him. He would probably avoid her like the plague in future, especially if he happened to have a glass in his hand.
Chloe smiled as she remembered his face when Justine had tipped half that champagne over him. He had been rather put out at the time, but on the second occasion he had seemed as if he had begun to see the funny side of it—and he had been perfectly pleasant this evening, even if she did suspect that he had enjoyed mocking her.
She yawned as she began to undress. She really was sleepy, and she had become irritated by Jane Vermont’s meaningless chatter. It would be too bad if she was forced to put up with that for the whole of the voyage, and once again she regretted that her cousin had not been able to come on the trip with them.
Sighing, she went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of the film she had just seen, but at some time during her dream the face of the Sheikh changed, becoming that of someone she had just met.
‘You are a beautiful, dangerous woman,’ he told her as he looked deeply into her eyes. ‘I shall have to take you to my casbah and lock you away.’
Waking briefly, Chloe remembered where she had seen that article, then went back to sleep and forgot all about it again…
Chapter Two
He stood watching the dancers for a moment, his features as hard as the Atlas Mountains, which banded the plains where his ancestors had roamed for centuries, moving relentlessly through deserts and fertile regions on the caravan routes from Gaza to the Barbary Coast. Pasha Ibn Hasim, otherwise known as Philip Armand—or even on occasions Philippe—watched as the girl danced with her elderly employer, a frown on his face that was generally considered strong rather than handsome.
