by Stacy Henrie
Their food arrived shortly after that, and Syble relished the chance to dine inside a building with cushioned chairs. The thought made her think of Marcus’s former fiancée. Would Esme have disliked living in the desert as much as she’d professed, or would she have eventually come to see it as a grand adventure with the man she had supposedly loved? No one would ever know. Some of the sadness Syble had felt listening to their story rose inside her again.
One thing she did feel certain about—she’d been right regarding what sort of woman would make a suitable wife for Marcus. Someone very different than Esme.
And me.
If anyone needed proof that she and Marcus weren’t right for each other, it was as plain as day now. The realization didn’t bring relief, though. Instead a knot of regret formed in Syble’s throat. Once more, she faced a situation where being more like Miss Dyer in personality could have worked in her favor—this time for her and Marcus. As it was, friendship remained the only relationship left to them.
Syble swallowed and raised her chin. There was no point wallowing in what might have been—she’d learned that lesson this past fall. She would simply continue moving forward with her plans for herself and her goal for helping Marcus. She just needed an idea of where to start with the latter…
She returned her focus to the conversation around the table in time to hear the other women discussing what things they wished to see and do before returning to the dig site in two days. Their plans sparked one of her own: something Syble felt sure Marcus would enjoy while at the same time giving him an opportunity to meet some eligible young ladies.
He wouldn’t be the only one sacrificing for their group. Soon Syble would be doing the same, giving of her time and energy for her newest friend.
* * *
Marcus entered the hotel several hours later than he’d intended and far more exhausted than he’d expected. Of course, he hadn’t planned to actually work at his dig when he’d sent Syble and the widows onto Luxor ahead of him. He’d only meant to check on the site to ensure the entrance remained covered.
To his immense relief, he’d found the place undisturbed, the sand still obscuring the entrance from any passersby. Marcus had nearly turned and left right then. Yet knowing exactly where the tomb lay, he’d had the thought that it would only be the work of an hour or two to uncover enough sand for him to slip inside.
He was removing his suit coat, rolling up his sleeves, and kneeling on the ground before he’d even realized he had made his decision. Quiet settled in around him as he moved the sand away with his hands. He could finally breathe more easily, with only his own expectations to hold instead of the entire group’s.
Eventually he had unburied a portion of the entrance and squeezed his way into the tomb. A feeling of contentment washed over him. Marcus brushed off the sand from his hands and trousers. A lamp set just inside the door provided him with light as he wandered through the rooms, his gaze feasting on the painted walls.
He’d missed working here the last week, though he no longer felt as upset about switching projects as he initially had. A good portion of his resistance had faded as he’d interacted with Gran and her friends and seen their excitement for their dig.
It was a new experience for him to have someone as thrilled as he was about excavating. At the dig site, he was surrounded by workers who—while competent and capable—viewed it as another job. And when he spoke of his work in society, the responses usually ranged from lifeless interest to polite boredom. His own parents, while very supportive, had never participated in a dig with him, nor did they capture the same joy he took in the possible discovery. Yet his grandmother and the other widows had done just that.
If he was truthful with himself, though, his greatest reason for softening toward their project and accepting his waylaid plans had come from spending time with Syble. Thoughts of her and of their moments working together the night before remained with him as he entered the partially cleared burial chamber. A neglected basket sat inside. Marcus picked it up and began to fill it.
Rather than dumping the sand outside the tomb though, he piled it in the opposite corner from the treasury room entrance. His efforts were paltry when compared with the momentum of an entire crew working in tandem, but it still felt like progress.
Sometime later, he had exited the tomb and blinked in the bright sunlight. It had to be well past lunch by now. Gran would likely be concerned at his delay. Working as fast as he could, he had covered up the entrance once more and set off for Luxor.
Marcus figured he looked quite a sight. His hair stuck to his damp forehead and neck, and his suit still sported sand in places. And yet he felt more purposeful than he had all week. If only he could go back to permanently clearing the way to the treasury room. Seeing again how close they were had brought a resurgence to the restlessness that had eluded him for several days now.
“Marcus!”
He lifted his gaze from the hotel carpet. Syble hopped up from one of the chairs inside the lobby and hurried toward him. Tension twisted inside him. “Is it Gran?” he asked urgently, certain something must be wrong to have Syble awaiting his arrival. “Has something happened?”
“What?” Her brow wrinkled with confusion, then she shook her head. “No, Ethel is fine. She’s been worried why you weren’t back sooner—we were all starting to wonder. But nothing is wrong with her.”
Marcus ran his hand across his face. He could feel a few granules of sand sticking there. “I’m sorry to concern everyone.”
“Is something the matter at the dig site?” She studied him a moment, taking in his appearance. “You look as if you walked all the way from there. Maybe even crawled the last mile or so.”
Leave it to Syble to confirm that he did indeed look frightful. “Everything at the dig site is fine.”
“Why do you look so disheveled then?”
He removed his hat and brushed at the brim, reluctant to admit what he’d been doing most of the afternoon. Would she or Gran understand? His actions today didn’t mean he had given up on their project.
“I…visited my site.” The admission made him feel as if he were a young boy again, confessing to nipping a bite of freshly baked bread or drawing hieroglyphs on the nursery wall.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “If my guess is right, you didn’t just visit. You were digging too.” To his relief, a spark of amused compassion in her blue eyes spoke of understanding rather than criticism.
Marcus shrugged, but he couldn’t help offering a small smile as well. “I had to dig in order to go inside, yes. However, I did, in fact, do a little work while in the tomb.”
“You don’t have to explain that sort of eagerness to me.” They exchanged a knowing laugh before she asked, “Have you eaten anything all day?”
The concern behind her question eased some of his exhaustion. “I’ve not eaten since breakfast.” He gestured to his clothes. “But if you will permit me to go wash and change, I’ll be presentable for dinner in no time.”
“We already ate.”
“I’m not that late, am I?” Marcus glanced at the nearby clock. There was still at least an hour to go before they normally ate dinner. “Is there a reason all of you ate early?” The thought of dining alone, as he’d always done before, held far less appeal to him right now.
“We were hoping you’d be back in time to eat earlier too. I’ll have the hotel staff send you up a tray, though.” Syble linked her arm through his and guided him toward the stairs. “It will take less time than waiting for you to eat in the dining room.”
He rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. “Why do I need to take less time?”
“Because of the surprise,” she said, as if he should have known all along.
Marcus stopped walking. “What sort of surprise?”
“An outing.”
Given that her entire being radiated anticipation, she likely wouldn’t appreciate the frown forming on his mouth. He wrestled it back to say, “I’
m sure whatever outing you have planned would be…lovely, Syble. However, after I wash, change, and eat, I had planned to spend a quiet evening in my hotel room.”
“You haven’t even heard what outing I’ve planned.” She released his arm and stepped back.
Marcus hadn’t realized how natural it felt to have her at his side until she no longer stood there. “What is the outing?” he asked with mustered patience.
“A night excursion to the temple of Karnak.” Syble folded her arms as she glanced away. For the first time, he noticed she wasn’t wearing normal dinner attire—she was dressed in a traveling suit. “I know you still haven’t been there. And after hearing last night how much you’ve given up to help your grandmother…to help all of us…I thought it might be a fun way to say thank you.”
Syble wanted to do that for him? Marcus didn’t know whether to gape in shock, throw his arms around her in a hug, or kiss those pink lips until they bowed once more in a radiant smile. Perhaps all three. He chose the most sensible course instead and took her hand in his. She was not wearing gloves, allowing him to explore the warmth of her skin with his thumb. His fatigue ebbed away even more, along with his desire to remain in his room for the evening.
“I would love to go to the temple of Karnak with you. Would thirty minutes be quick enough?”
She beamed at him once more. “Yes, absolutely. We’ll meet you here in the lobby in thirty minutes.”
“We?” he echoed. A sliver of disappointment pricked at his growing enthusiasm. Was he wrong to have hoped it would be just the two of them? It wasn’t as if they would actually be alone, given the popularity of the site. There would be plenty of people about to act as chaperones.
He nearly laughed aloud at such an uncharacteristic thought. Perhaps some of Syble’s unconventionality was rubbing off on him. Or perhaps, after last night, he’d been secretly wishing for more uninterrupted time with her.
Her smile turned impish. “The Wandering Widows wouldn’t hear of being left out.”
“Of course.”
She slipped her hand out of his. “I’ll find someone to bring you a tray.”
“That would be appreciated.” He started for the stairs, then turned back. “Syble?” She spun to face him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He waved his hand. “For coming up with this plan and remembering I haven’t seen the temple at night. For…being a friend.”
“You’re welcome.” Her tone conveyed sincerity, but her eyes held some emotion he couldn’t name. Was it regret? It disappeared in the next moment, her regular, energetic smile back in place. “See you in thirty minutes.” She wagged a finger at him. “And this time, don’t be late.”
* * *
The temple of Karnak at night had to be the most idyllic place for a romantic meet that Syble had ever seen. Soaring columns stretched towards the stars, while the moon shone softly on the ancient walls and statues below. The atmosphere was one of solemnity and peace, and most conversations were kept to hushed tones. With three temples and other smaller buildings, Karnak offered plenty of secluded corners for intimate conversation too.
It was the perfect setting for Marcus to meet some eligible young ladies. Or so Syble had hoped. Only her grandmother and the other widows kept upsetting her plans.
Four times now, under the guise of viewing the ruins alongside Marcus, Syble had struck up a conversation with a different young woman who had crossed their path. After leading the way through the introductions, she’d then mentioned that as an archaeologist Marcus was well-versed in everything one could know about Egyptology, hieroglyphs, and excavations. Each time, the young lady had looked impressed and began plying Marcus with questions, which he’d dutifully answered.
By the fourth encounter, with a pretty brunette named Miss Haleson who happened to be staying at their same hotel, Marcus stopped shooting Syble confused looks and finally warmed to his subject. However, each time Syble slipped away to allow him and the selected young lady some privacy to get to know each other, one or more of the Wandering Widows would join the conversation and eventually steer the young woman in the opposite direction. Instead of a romantic stroll beside a potential sweetheart, as Syble had envisioned, Marcus kept ending up alone.
Syble knew sabotage when she saw it. But she couldn’t very well call the widows out on their meddling with Marcus standing nearby, liable to overhear everything. Nor could she definitively declare to the four of them in his presence that his prospects for a bride did not include Syble and that the widows were better off embracing the suitable young ladies he’d already been introduced to.
She wasn’t giving up, though. If she could put some much-needed distance between Marcus and the rest of their group, her plans for the night might still have a chance at succeeding.
“Let’s go this way,” she said, wrapping her arm through Marcus’s and leading him in the opposite direction at a fast clip.
He chuckled. “Why are we rushing?”
“I don’t want to miss seeing as much of this place as I can.”
It was the truth, though Syble hoped to see Marcus forge a connection with someone too. At least, that was what she kept telling herself, especially when two of the four young ladies they had encountered so far had elicited a full smile from him—as well as a twist of jealousy from Syble.
“We can take our time,” he reassured.
Not if the widows caught up to them. Syble cast a glance over her shoulder and felt relieved to see no one in quick pursuit. Only then did she slow her footsteps.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” She gazed up at the huge pillars they passed beneath.
“More so than I had imagined.”
They shared a smile before falling into companionable silence. Seeing Marcus’s pleasure made the excursion worth it, even if she hadn’t yet accomplished her other reason for inviting him.
“Why didn’t you visit Karnak the last time we were here?” she asked, breaking the stillness between them when they stopped in front of a row of statues. “What motivated you to stay behind with me on the steamer?” She’d wondered for ages why he’d chosen to remain with her rather than joining their families.
Marcus pocketed his hands. “I did want to go, but I also knew what it felt like to be left out, simply for being the youngest.” He shrugged as though his decision had been an inconsequential one. For Syble, though, it had been anything but trivial. “I suppose I didn’t like the idea of you being left behind and bored either. Who knows what sort of trouble you might have gotten into on your own?”
“Very true,” she conceded with a laugh. “It meant a lot to me that you chose to stay. To have someone see me and care about my feelings like that.” She felt suddenly vulnerable, as if she’d shared too much. Turning to face the nearest statue, she added, “I really appreciated it.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Marcus watching her. “You’re welcome.” He matched her stance, his gaze also on the relics. “I rather like that we were able to finally see this place together.”
His admission sent warmth tumbling through Syble even before his fingers laced with hers. Tucked inside the shadows of this room, it felt as if they were all alone in the world. As if they were the only two people walking these halls beneath a tapestry of stars. The idea, along with his touch, quickened her pulse. She’d experienced something similar when Marcus had held her hand earlier at the hotel.
At least until he had called her his friend.
That moment—like this one—was about shared friendship. It wasn’t some romantic interlude. Wasn’t that what she wanted the widows to try to understand too?
She could never bear to hear Marcus confess that he preferred someone else, someone vastly different than her. Nor did she want to see that same look of apology and sympathy she’d received from Mr. Kirk on Marcus’s kind, handsome face. They were and always would be simply friends. The sooner she reaffirmed that fact inside her own mind, the better. It would keep her hea
rt from paying a dear price all over again.
As she gently pulled her hand from his, she steeled herself against the empty feeling it brought. Her next words were the first to pop into her head, and she clung to their supposed safety. “Your grandmother told me about Esme.”
CHAPTER 11
Marcus hoped the shadows hid his disappointment as Syble let go of his hand. While the outing to Karnak had been as amazing as he’d always suspected it would be, other events tonight had left him entirely bewildered.
One minute Syble had acted as if she was determined to introduce him to every young lady in the vicinity. For what purpose, though, he couldn’t deduce. Then in the next minute, she’d pulled him away to walk together before eventually allowing him to take hold of her hand and regarding him with the same soft vulnerability he’d seen in her last night. However, now she apparently wished to discuss his former fiancée.
Unlike the ruins around them, she was a conundrum Marcus couldn’t decipher.
Slipping his now-bereft fingers back inside his pocket, he stared unseeing at the statue directly in front of him. “Gran mentioned Esme to you?” How had such a personal topic of his come up in conversation?
“I hope that’s all right. I promise not to share it with anyone.”
Several men and women entered the area. Though they spoke in muted tones, the group’s conversation still sounded loud in comparison to the silence between him and Syble, a stillness that held none of the easy camaraderie from before. Marcus braced himself for another introduction, but Syble paid the group no attention.
“I’m sorry, Marcus.” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper. “I had no idea when I said those things the other day, about not attending many social events, that you’d had your heart broken.”
He offered a stiff nod, then motioned for her to exit the room ahead of him. This wasn’t a topic he wished to discuss in front of an audience. In truth, it wasn’t a topic he cared to delve into at all.
Once they’d put some distance between them and the group of strangers, he spoke. “It was a rather difficult time, one I don’t wish to repeat. However, even though I may not attend as many social functions as I did when courting Esme, it does not mean I’m not happy for her. She would have been miserable here. Even I can see that now.” The admission tasted of truth, even if it still held granules of pain.
