by Cheryl Holt
Chase never talked much about his past except to say that it had been a tad difficult. He was an orphan with one sister whom he’d rarely seen as a boy. They’d been separated when their parents had died and attended boarding schools in different areas of the country.
He had no hoards of siblings, no scores of cousins or parlors full of grouchy aunties, no strict neighbors who would march over to your mother and tell her the minute you misbehaved. Ralston thought Chase was lonely and the most solitary person he’d ever met.
“You have a few gold coins,” he said. “Is that what you’re claiming?”
“It’s more than a few actually.”
“How much more?”
“Enough to buy you a suit of clothes and a ticket to London.”
Ralston’s scowl deepened. Was Chase planning to send Ralston on his own?
“What about you?” Ralston asked. “You wouldn’t stay behind, would you? Because I won’t go if you don’t.”
“I’d go, I guess.” Chase glanced away and peered out at the sea. He looked sad and forlorn as if the prospect of leaving was incredibly painful.
“What about Sister Faithful and the rest of them?”
“I have enough to take everybody.”
“The girls too? Rowena?”
“Yes.”
“Well…” he said again.
He couldn’t decide how he felt about it.
In the first weeks after they’d struggled onto the beach down below, he’d been anxious to depart. But as the months had passed, as he and Chase had settled in, London had started to seem very far away.
He’d been lured into complacency, had grown accustomed to the luxury. Was he ready to toss it all away? He supposed he was. After all, how long could a man continue on in a fantasy?
He peered out at the sea too, wondering what it would be like to wake up some morning and not have that glorious view. He wondered what it would be like to not have marble tiles under his feet, to wear shoes again, to dress like a fussy clerk.
He’d never strut around half-naked, would never have hair hanging down his back or tan every inch of his skin. He’d never bathe out in the open, practice fencing under a palm grove, or lounge on a bed of soft pillows as servants handed him food.
“What brought this on?” he asked. “Obviously you’ve had the money for awhile, but you didn’t tell me. Why?”
“I was thinking.”
“About what? Keeping it and spending it on yourself? Or perhaps sneaking away without us?”
“No,” Chase scoffed, “I wasn’t thinking that.”
“What has you so vexed then?”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You have to someday. We’ve talked about it.”
“Do I have to though? I’m not sure. I could return to Cairo, to Monsieur Valois. I’m positive he could find an interesting project for me.”
“You hated Cairo,” Ralston reminded him.
Chase frowned. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You’re inventing memories that never existed. You had an awful trip to Egypt, and your friend, Bryce, was nearly killed there. This place is a mirage, and if it’s time to leave, London should be our destination.”
“There’s nothing for me there.”
“There’s your sister.”
Chase smiled a secretive smile. “I received a letter from her.”
“From Amelia?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Today. A farmer who was walking by brought it from town. One of the servants handed it to me a bit ago.”
“A letter! My goodness.”
The news was so strange. They’d been so isolated that an item as ordinary as a letter seemed foreign and exotic. If Chase had insisted an angel had flown down from Heaven for a chat, Ralston couldn’t have been any more surprised.
After their initial arrival at the villa, they’d both written letters, Chase to his sister and Ralston to his oldest brother who was a vicar in a large parish. The servants had taken them to town and given them to a ship’s captain, but neither Chase nor Ralston had ever truly expected the missives to be delivered or that they’d hear back.
It was a small miracle.
“What did Amelia say?” Ralston asked.
“She said I should stop loafing in Africa and get my butt to England immediately.”
Ralston laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her. I’m certain I’ll like her.”
“I’m certain you will too. She’s a much better person than me.”
“That’s quite a low bar, isn’t it? Everyone in the world is a better person than you.”
“My greatest regret is that I’ve hardly been able to corrupt you at all. Once we’re in England, I’ll never round your edges. You’ll always be as honest and decent as you are right now.”
“Did your sister mention my mother or my brother? Had she corresponded with them?”
His father had been dead for several years, but his widowed mother would be frantically worrying over the delay in his return.
“She didn’t mention your family,” Chase said, “but I told her about you, so I’m sure she’ll contact them.”
“So…it took hearing from Amelia to convince you to leave?”
“Not really, but it’s definitely poked a dart into the middle of my fantasy life. It’s made me remember that nothing here has any bearing on reality.”
“In my book, reality is highly overrated.”
Chase chuckled. “Maybe I’m rubbing off after all.”
“Maybe.”
Chase sighed, then admitted, “Amelia advises me that Bryce is home safe and sound.”
“My! That’s fabulous, isn’t it?”
“Suddenly he’s enjoying enormous good fortune. Every grand conclusion—and it was all deserved—has happened for him. He’s recovered his health, married the woman he loved, and he retrieved his title.”
“His title? Was it lost?”
“It’s a long story.” Chase glanced out at the water again. “He added a message for me to the bottom of the letter.”
“What was it?”
“He tells me that all is forgiven and forgotten.”
An odd expression crossed Chase’s face. He looked abashed, relieved, and sad. Ralston had never seen him so discomfited.
“All is forgiven?” Ralston asked. “What did you do to him? Should I be wary? I have some idea of the sorts of nonsense you’re capable of, but could it be much worse than I imagine?”
“No, you shouldn’t be wary. I got you this far, didn’t I?”
“Is this the spot where I thank you again for saving my life? I’ll always be grateful, you know. I won’t ever tire of saying it.”
“Don’t gush. It annoys me.” Chase shook off his peculiar mood and glared at Ralston. “I don’t believe we should remain here another second. I vanquished those blackguards in town, but I can’t guarantee that they won’t come for us.”
Ralston’s scowl was back. “You think they would?”
“I hope not, but I wouldn’t put it past them. So what’s it to be, Mr. Robertson? Should we head to England or not?”
Ralston studied his friend who was more a brother than any of his brothers had ever been. Chase had shown him how to live, how to thrive. Chase had shown him how to be tough and valiant and brave. He’d provided Ralston with a taste of adventure he probably never should have experienced or survived.
The villa was exotic and splendid, their revelry sinfully glorious, and they’d made full use of their sojourn in it. They’d wrung out every drop of pleasure. There was naught for either of them in England, but their country seemed to be calling.
“You have to force me to commit to this, Ralston,” Chase very quietly said. “I can’t wrap my mind around the notion of leaving. Tell me I have to. Don’t give me a choice.”
Ralston couldn’t refuse Chase any request.
“You have to go home, Chase.” His tone was scolding. “It’s time.”
“You know it is. Don’t grouse about it.”
“All right, I won’t.”
“And we’re taking the women, yes? You were serious about that, weren’t you? I won’t abandon them in this godforsaken land.”
“We’re taking them.”
Ralston pushed himself to his feet and climbed out of the pool.
“Where are you going?” Chase inquired.
“To inform Rowena.”
“It’s Sister Rowena to you.”
“She wants me to call her Rowena. She asked me to.”
“Behave yourself,” Chase actually had the temerity to say.
“I’ll start when you do.”
* * * *
“Rowena! May I speak with you for a minute?”
She was with the girls on the verandah, playing a game with string. She glanced up, and Ralston was standing there.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I have to tell you a secret.”
“Ooh, a secret! I like the sound of that.”
“May we come too?” Mary said. “I’d like to know a secret.”
“Me too,” added Martha.
Little Millicent didn’t chime in. Since those horrid men had carried her off, she hadn’t uttered a word.
Rowena was concerned about her and wasn’t sure how to make her feel safe. She suspected Millie had simply endured too much trauma over too short a period. She was only five. Her parents were deceased, she was lost in Africa and living in a mansion with people who weren’t her relatives. Strangers had tried to kidnap her and sell her into slavery.
It was a bit too much for a child to absorb. Hopefully she’d talk again once she realized the worst had passed.
“No, you scamps can’t come,” Rowena said. “If he tells everyone, it won’t be a secret.”
Rowena stood, and they looked terrified. Since they’d returned to the villa, they wouldn’t let her out of their sight. They even slept in her room.
“All of you sit still, and don’t move a muscle.” A servant was over in the corner observing their game, occasionally fanning them with a palm frond. Rowena pointed to her. “She’ll watch you until I return.”
“How long will that be?” Mary asked.
“Not long at all. Why don’t you count to a hundred, and I bet I’ll be here when you reach ninety-nine.” She started to walk away, and Martha grabbed her skirt. Rowena gently pulled her hand away. “It will be fine, Martha. Don’t worry. Don’t any of you worry. When I get back, I’ll ask if you worried, and if you say yes, I’ll be very upset.”
Rowena went over to Ralston, and the girls stared at them with haunted eyes. She couldn’t bear how anxious they were. She considered staying where they could see her, but since the drama in town they’d been with her every second, and she hadn’t had a single moment alone with him.
They hurried around a corner, then down the hall, slipping into an alcove that was partially shielded by a wall of potted ferns.
“Guess what?” he said.
“What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“We’re leaving for England.”
“Who is?”
“All of us.”
“Who is all? Me? You? Faith? The girls?”
“Yes, and Chase. He’s paying.”
“I assumed he was penniless.”
“He forced those bandits to give him some money.”
“Really?”
“It was a substantial amount too. Enough to cover all our fares.”
“And…Mr. Hubbard is willing?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“He’s a rogue and a rascal. I wouldn’t have imagined he’d be that generous.”
“He puts on a tough front, but deep down, he’s actually a gallant fellow.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
“When are we going?”
“I’m not sure. Soon.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. It will be as quickly as plans can be arranged.”
“Does Faith know?”
“I doubt it. Chase only just decided himself.”
“Hmm…”
Rowena studied him, wondering what he was thinking. As to herself, her thoughts were extremely clear. She wouldn’t return to the convent. The reason she hadn’t already left was because she’d had nowhere to go.
Ralston could be the port in her storm. He was so chivalrous and decent. If she threw herself on his mercy, he’d have to catch her. Wouldn’t he?
“Will we all travel together?”
“Yes. Chase and I saw first hand the trouble you women instigated when we weren’t there. We’re not about to let you traipse off on your own. I specifically told Chase I wouldn’t depart unless you were by my side.”
“My hero,” she gushed. “How will we go? I’m assuming by ship?”
“We’re not that far in the discussion, but I’m positive that’s it.”
“I mean, we wouldn’t cross over into Spain and ride horseback, would we?”
“No. I’m certain once Chase sets his mind to it, he’ll want to get home as fast as he can. And that’s sailing.”
“Even then, it will take several weeks.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“It will be so much fun, won’t it?”
“I can’t wait.”
They’d be in close quarters, and ships were crafty little vessels. They had all kinds of nooks and crannies where a person could hide in the shadows. Who could predict what might happen?
No matter what, when they docked in England she was determined to have her future secured. Why shouldn’t he marry her? Why couldn’t he?
“I’m so happy,” she said.
“So am I.”
“I’m relieved too. After our debacle, I was too afraid to try to depart again. I couldn’t figure out how we’d manage it. How about you? Are you excited about this?”
“I have mixed feelings. I loved being here with Chase. It’s been every man’s bachelor fantasy, but it had to end sooner or later.”
She expected him to kiss her, but he showed no indication that he was considering it and she supposed he was shy, but she wasn’t.
She snuggled herself to him, her front pressed to his.
“You naughty girl!” he scolded, but he was grinning.
“I’m glad you’re taking me to England. I’m glad you’re the one.”
“I couldn’t leave you behind.”
“You better mean it.”
She couldn’t abide the suspense. During their lone foray on the beach a few nights earlier, he’d been very amorous, but maybe he didn’t realize a fellow could misbehave in the middle of the day.
Since he didn’t appear as if he’d make a move, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him instead. The gesture galvanized him, and he leapt into action. Her breasts were crushed to his chest, her private parts to his loins. He was hard down below, and if she could have been certain he wouldn’t die of shock, she’d have reached into his trousers and delivered a bit of pleasure.
Yet she didn’t dare. She couldn’t give him any hint of how much she enjoyed the physical side of passion. A well-bred young lady shouldn’t like that sort of thing.
They continued for a minute or two, not nearly long enough for any truly interesting embraces to occur. Just her luck, a servant went by, and Ralston was such a gentleman that he stopped immediately.
They were smiling, chortling like mischievous schoolchildren.
“I beg your pardon,” he ridiculously said.
“For what?” she retorted.
“For kissing you where anyone can walk by and see.”
“If I remember correctly, you didn’t kiss me. I kissed you.”
“So you did.” His smile widened. “But I kissed you back!”
“You definitely did. Would you like to do it again?”
“Yes, but we should get you ov
er to the girls. They’ll be thoroughly alarmed by now.”
She sighed. “Yes, they probably are.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to invite him to her room later, or to offer to stroll on the beach in the moonlight again. If they were leaving shortly, they wouldn’t have many more chances.
But the girls would likely sleep with her, would curl around her and hold on as if she were a raft in a river and the only thing to keep them from drowning. There’d be no opportunity for him to sneak in or for her to sneak out.
He linked their fingers as if they were adolescent sweethearts, but as they left the alcove and stepped onto the main section of the verandah, he dropped her hand. They ambled along innocently, side by side, as if no untoward lust had been displayed.
“Chase says I shouldn’t call you Rowena,” he informed her.
“It’s my name,” Rowena scoffed. “What would he have you call me instead?”
“He believes I should stick with Sister Rowena. He feels I’m being overly familiar.”
“I like that you are, and I’m encouraging you, so perhaps Mr. Hubbard should mind his own business.”
“That’s pretty much what I told him.” Feigning nonchalance, he asked, “What will happen to us when we get to England?”
She could have hugged him. It was the perfect opening to clarify her position.
“I don’t want to return to the convent.”
He nodded. “I was wondering if you were pondering a change of course.”
“I’d have to have somewhere to go, someone who’d let me stay with him. It would have to be someone who would always take care of me.”
“Are you hoping it could be me?”
“Why not?” she brazenly replied.
“Why not indeed?” he mused.
They’d arrived at the spot where the girls were impatiently waiting for her so the discussion had to end. He winked and sauntered off so she couldn’t demand he explain his statement.
Why not indeed?
What did he mean? It had to mean he was suffering the same heightened regard. It had to mean he was thinking what she was thinking, that they belonged together.
What else could he mean? She was desperate to find out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chase stepped onto the beach below the villa. It was late in the afternoon, the sun sinking in the west.
He was experiencing a peculiar swirl of emotions, conflicted about heading to England, not sure he wanted to, not sure he should. There was nothing for him in London, but then there was nothing for him in Africa either.
