by Tinnean
“Thank you, Lord.” I leaned against his furred body, feeling safe and…loved as strong arms enclosed me. “You will permit me to remain with you?”
“You have no wish to return to the lower plain?”
“Not if it means I cannot be by your side.” Dared I hope he would let me remain with him? For he was the one I loved most of all.
“In that case, yes, my little prince.”
I sighed happily. “But what will happen with my other self?”
“In recompense for the acts committed upon you by Khentemsemet, I grant a lifetime of happiness to make up for a lifetime of misery. As for all this…to your other self, it will seem nothing more than a dream…”
Chapter 27
“Roddy.”
I snuggled up to the warm body lying in my arms. My leg was thrust between his, and my hand rhythmically stroked his torso, periodically drifting down to caress the hardness of his shaft.
“Wake up, love.”
Blinking slowly, I looked up into the eye of my lover, and smiled. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Actually, it’s afternoon.”
“Is it?” I rolled onto my back and reached my arms high over my head, stretching the kinks out of my complaining muscles. “I had the strangest dream—Oh!”
Tommy flowed over me, lying full length on my body while his prick nudged mine impudently. He peppered my chin and jaw with kisses. “Did you mean it?” Warm lips found the spot just to the side of my Adam’s apple that he had discovered turned my legs to jelly, and my prick thought perhaps it was time to rise.
“Mean what?” Still not quite awake, I arched my neck, giving my lover better access to that spot, and I uttered a drawn-out hum of a sigh.
“Do you love me, Roddy? Do you?”
I snapped out of my haze of pleasure. “What?”
“You said you…No, I guess I must have imagined it—I was almost asleep. I guess you couldn’t love someone as scarred and…and—”
“You’re angling for compliments, aren’t you, Captain Smythe? You know damned well that you’re one of the handsomest men in the country.”
“But it isn’t enough, is it?” His tone was deliberately melancholy. “You can’t love me.”
“Well, why not? You’re a respected former soldier. You’re a good man. And you’re one of the best lovers I’ve ever had.”
“Roddy, I’m only the second lover you’ve ever had.”
I waved that aside. “That isn’t important. What is important is that you are eminently lovable.”
He undulated his hips, and I parted my lips on an indrawn breath. “So, Roddy, are you saying you do love me?” He worked his hands under my hips, and he jerked my hips up toward him, letting his shaft glide toward my exposed opening.
I groaned. “What do you want from me, Thomas Smythe? You’ve already got my body.”
“I’m a greedy git, love. I want more than that.” His fingers were slick as they made their way into my back passage.
I shivered. “Whatever I have is yours, don’t you know that?”
He nipped at my collarbone while he positioned his prick, and he let me feel him pressing lightly against my opening. “Even your heart?”
I couldn’t catch my breath. “Tommy.”
“I’m talking forever, here, Roddy, till death do us part. I’ll make love to you, beloved, but you’re going to have to tell me you love me.”
He was just inside me now, holding himself completely still. I tried to buck up onto him, to take more of him into me, but his grip on my hips kept me motionless.
“That’s all I ask of you.”
“Yes, all right, yes,” I moaned. “I love you, you irritating, domineering ex-soldier.” I was almost weeping with need, but I meant every word. “How could I not? You’re honourable, and gallant, and you risked not only your life for me, but also your bodily integrity. So shut up, fuck me hard, and fuck me now!”
And he did.
* * * *
Later that afternoon, Foster tapped on our door. “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” he called through the door, “but my lady said to inform you Lord Carnarvon and Mr Carter will be leaving shortly. She wishes you to join them for tea in the rose salon.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right along.”
“Very good, sir. You’ll inform Mr Sayer also?”
“I will. Please let my mother know we’ll be right down.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was a polite fiction in the house that Tommy and I didn’t sleep in the same room. Servants always knew, but they were so close to the family that they never told tales.
“What do you suppose that’s about?” Tommy asked as we rolled out of bed and quickly dressed.
“I have no—Oh God, do you suppose they want the pearls returned?”
“We can’t do that. They’ve been destroyed.” He slipped his eyepatch in place.
“We know that, but they don’t. What will we do?”
Tommy patted my arse. “I’ll deal with it.”
“All right, but be aware I’m ready to leave the country with you at a moment’s notice.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” I stood before the mirror and ran a quick comb through my hair. Tommy came up behind me, and I saw his reflection. “I don’t know how I came to be so lucky, but I thank whatever gods may be for bringing you into my life.”
“You’re being fanciful. There’s only one God.” He ran his lips along the side of my neck.
“Of course.”
Tommy gave me a final kiss, and I turned and leaned back against the chest of drawers, and watched as he stepped into a pair of shoes. My God, I was indeed lucky.
I pushed off from the dresser and stepped into my own shoes, while my lover combed his hair.
“All set?” I asked.
“Indeed. Neat and tidy.”
We hurried down to the rose salon, where the earl and Mr Carter were waiting with Lady Eugenia.
“Gentlemen.” Both men observed Tommy’s battered appearance but refrained from speaking about it.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re leaving.”
“After what your mother has told us of last night’s activities, we feel it’s best if we make ourselves scarce. It’s unfortunate your dinner guests are aware we were staying with Runihura, Lady Eugenia. Once word of this disaster gets out, tales of the curse will run rampant, not only here in Kent, but also throughout the country and eventually the world.”
“Are you returning to London?” Lady Eugenia offered them a platter of cucumber sandwiches, which they both refused.
“Actually, we’re returning to Cairo. About the black pearls…”
Tommy studied them blandly. “I’m sorry, but Roddy returned them to Mr Runihura. However, it seems highly unlikely they survived the destruction of the east wing of Thorny Walk House.”
“I was afraid that might be so,” Mr Carter said heavily. “Needless to say, we’re extremely unhappy this has happened.”
“Will there be repercussions, sir?” I asked.
“Neither the earl nor I mentioned those pearls to anyone. There was the possibility they were paste, after all. It’s a pity your dinner guests heard about and saw the pearls, but we’d appreciate it if you’d pass the word around the neighbourhood.”
“Of course. I believe a likely tale would be they were replaced by tomb robbers centuries ago and were of little to no value.”
I wasn’t the only one to stare at Tommy in awe.
“That’s a brilliant plan,” the earl said.
“An Egyptologist would know that was untrue.” Mr Carter tugged at the end of his moustache.
“That’s a possibility. However, there are no Egyptologists in this part of Kent.”
Mr Carter considered it a moment, then gave a decisive nod. “We’ll hope that works. Carnarvon and I have discussed this, and we believe the best thing to do will be to keep mum regarding the entire affair. The last thing we need is for those not in the
know to chalk it up to the curse of the Boy King striking once again.”
“A splendid idea.”
“We’ll be on our way now. We never really had the opportunity to unpack, and I believe our luggage is waiting to be put in the automobile.”
“Would you like me to inform the Egyptian embassy of the loss of an Egyptian national?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not in the least. Roddy and I will be going up to town in a day or so. My brother and his wife have returned from visiting friends, and. I want to introduce Bertie to my friend.”
He did? I’d been concerned until I heard that. Now I was so pleased I could have wriggled all over like a puppy.
Lord Carnarvon and Mr Carter both looked relieved. They rose, shook hands all around, thanked Lady Eugenia for her hospitality, and left.
* * * *
The following day, after we’d both recovered from that night’s adventure, Tommy and I drove up to London.
Surprisingly, the Bureau of Egyptian Antiquities had no knowledge of anyone calling himself Ammon Runihura.
No one ever discovered the part we played in the destruction of the man who used that name. And even Lady Genie had no idea of how closely we had come to death.
“You’ve been taking this awfully calmly, Thomas,” I said one evening as we dressed for dinner with Sir Bertram and Lady Dinah.
“Actually…”
“All right. Tell me what you’ve been up to.” For the past couple of days, he’d left his brother and sister-in-law to show me the sights I’d much rather have seen with him, including a street fair where ponies were being sold.
“I…well, since we’re…we’re partners, I feel there’s something you should know about me.”
“If you tell me you’re married, you’ll break my heart.”
“Not that, love. It’s just…now and again I do some work for the Crown.” He seemed unable to hold my gaze. “Er…undercover work. Very secretive.” And now he seemed to be holding his breath.
“Truly? I thought it might be because you were a soldier.”
“Damn. I should have let it go at that.” He looked so disgruntled I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
“Never mind, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m afraid it might. You see, the man who gives me my assignments asked me to return to Egypt to soothe ruffled feathers.”
“I see.”
“I know you’ve said you’ll never return there, but would you, perhaps, consider it?”
“No.”
“You…you won’t even give it a moment’s thought?”
“I don’t have to.”
“I see.” He looked forlorn.
“Thomas, you don’t see at all. Of course I’ll go to Egypt with you.”
“You will? But why?”
“Because I love you, you silly man.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed me. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I think it might be an excellent place for us to honeymoon.”
“H-honeymoon? You want to marry me?”
“I do. And perhaps…”
“Perhaps?”
“While we’re in Africa, I thought we might revisit the lake where we first met. “
“You did?”
“Yes. What do you say?”
“I say I do.”
* * * *
It was a nine-day wonder, the catastrophe at Thorny Walk House. Of course there was an inquiry. After all, an entire wing had collapsed in on itself, and an untold number of men had been killed. Faulty workmanship was blamed, but in spite of what we hoped, the locals considered it part and parcel of the curse that was becoming known to be plaguing those who excavated the Boy King’s tomb.
That Lord Carnarvon and Howard Carter had come to stay at Fortescue Manor on the very night this disaster occurred and so were uninjured was regarded as nothing short of miraculous, and the entire village agreed they were fortunate indeed to have escaped the wrath of the Boy King.
Although…perhaps not. We learned about a month later that Lord Carnarvon had died on 5 April from a mosquito bite infected by a razor cut.
Tommy turned pale. “I won’t lose you, Roddy.”
“From the curse?” I went to him and took him in my arms. “I’m not worried.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “I just have a feeling.”
Epilogue
Tommy was off doing undercover work for his superior, and here I sat at the bar in the hotel The Duke of York, in a seedier side of Nairobi. I took the cigarette that dangled from my mouth—I never had been one for smoking—stubbed it out in an ashtray on the bar, and reached for my pint.
I no longer wore the diamond in the rough, Charlie’s gift to me. It was tucked away in a safe place in Tommy’s room—our room—at Fortescue Manor until we found a home of our own.
A home of our own…I looked down at the wedding ring on the ring finger of my left hand. I slid the ring up and down my finger, finally taking it off and placing it on the bar in front of me.
I sipped my pint, contemplating the future.
We’d waited until we reached Lake Tanganyika to exchange vows under a full moon. As when I’d married Charlie, there were just three of us attending—Tommy and me and God. Although…perhaps there were more? I shook my head and smiled at the fanciful notion.
Tucked under my shirt was a chain of fine silver links, fastened with a tiny silver padlock that made it impossible to remove the chain. A similar lock was on the identical chain Tommy wore. On each chain was the key that opened the other’s lock…and heart as well.
He never pressured me to stop wearing Charlie’s ring, but there was only so much time a man could spend living in the past.
I reached for the ring, intending to put it in my pocket.
A hand closed over it.
Bristling, I whirled to face whoever had dared to touch my ring.
White-blond hair, a single tourmaline eye, and an eyepatch that intrigued men and women alike. “You don’t want to lose this, love,” he said quietly. “Come on, we need to get back to our hotel.”
“Tommy!” I smiled and rose. “I was just going to put it away in my pocket.”
His breath snagged. “You’re not going to wear it anymore?”
“No. I loved Charlie. He was a good man, one of the best I’ve ever known. But he’s gone.”
“And me, Mr Sayer?”
I smiled at him and rested my fingertips on his chest above where the chain lay. “Ah, Captain Smythe. I’ll love you till the day I die.” Somehow I knew I would spend the rest of my life with him.
A deep sigh whispered past his lips, and he smiled at me. If we hadn’t been in such a public place, I knew he would have kissed me.
“Ready to go back to the hotel, love?”
I nodded. I’d be able to kiss him as much as I chose once we got to our room.
I tossed a coin onto the bar. I had said my goodbyes to the past I had shared with my first love and looked forward to a future with my last love.
As it turned out, not only had I loved two good men, but I’d been loved by them as well, so as far as I was concerned, I was the most loved of all.
I paused. Why did that sound so familiar?
“Love?”
I pushed it from my mind. It wasn’t important. I bumped my shoulder against Tommy’s and grinned at him.
What was important was the man who walked at my side.
THE END
ABOUT TINNEAN
Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.
Starting a family resulted in the writing being set aside, although throughout those years Ti
nnean did continue to keep a journal. Once the kids were old enough to do their own thing, she was able to dabble in writing again. It was with the advent of the family’s second computer—the first intimidated everyone—that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fan fiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.
While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, and JMS Books
Tinnean is what you might call a hopeful romantic, and if you see her name on a story, it will have a happy ending.
Her signature line, a quote by Ernest Hemingway, says it all: “Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.”
A New Yorker at heart, she resides in southwest Florida with her husband and two computers.
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