by Stacy Henrie
“Since we’re finished here,” Syble’s grandmother said to Marcus, “why don’t you ask the crew to return to your tomb after the weekend? The rest of us can tag along. If that’s all right with you, ladies?” Nana looked to the rest of them.
Syble voiced her quick agreement and felt instant relief when the other women did the same. They’d all have more time here in Luxor—she would have more time. To do what, she wasn’t ready to delve into just yet. For now, she was content that they wouldn’t be leaving for a while longer.
Marcus appeared equally as grateful. “I’d like that too.”
His earlier enthusiasm seemed to have returned as well. Now if only his tomb would yield a similar find to this one. For his sake, she greatly hoped it would.
* * *
Syble folded the blouse she held and placed it inside Rose’s traveling case. Once she’d packed her own clothes, she had asked if any of the others needed help. To her surprise, it was Rose who had accepted her offer. Outside the tent, the crew members were busily taking down the rest of the camp. Marcus had already gone ahead to Luxor to contact the Antiquities Service, after assuring them that guards would be provided for the next few nights until the treasure could be moved to Cairo.
“I’m going to miss camping in the desert,” Syble said, eyeing the activity beyond the tent flaps.
Rose smiled as she added a skirt to those they’d already packed. “It has been nice, hasn’t it? I think even Florence is reluctant to leave.” They both laughed. “I’m sure if we ask the others, they’d be willing to camp at Marcus’s dig site too.”
Syble liked that idea. “I still can’t believe we found an entire chamber full of treasure.” She picked up a second blouse. “You four really do court adventure on these trips, don’t you?”
“Not every time,” Rose admitted with a wink. “Sometimes the most adventurous thing we do is get lost.”
Chuckling, Syble set the folded blouse on top of the other. “Well, hopefully we won’t get lost next time.”
A long pause followed her attempt at teasing. She glanced up to find Rose watching her. “Adelle told us about your wish to join our group on more trips.”
“Only if that’s agreeable to all of you, of course.” Did they not want her? A worm of fear twisted inside Syble. If they refused her company, she had no idea what she would do next.
Rose patted her hand. “We would love for you to travel with us, Syble. It’s been a joy to have your company. But…” She lowered her arm, her eyes intent on Syble’s. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes.” She sank onto the other cot, a pair of Rose’s gloves clutched inside her hand. “I want to see the world, just like I have on this trip. I want to be independent and adventurous like all of you.”
An unexplainable film of tears clouded her vision as she studied the beautiful pattern stitched onto each glove. What would she do if the widows rejected her too? She couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her mundane existence at home.
Rose came to sit beside her. With a gentle smile, she tugged the gloves from Syble’s grip and set them aside. Then the widow cupped Syble’s hands within both of her own. “I’ve loved traveling with my three best friends these many years. Independence and the means to enjoy it does have its advantages, and we’ve had numerous adventures. But there’s something else you need to know about our little band, Syble.”
“What is it?”
Squeezing her hands, Rose glanced about the tent. A hint of sorrow pulled at her mouth. “All of us have experienced periods of deep loneliness. Times when we miss our spouses and our grown children.” She returned her gaze to Syble. “In those moments, we remember that no amount of independence or adventure will ever compare to the time spent in the company of those we love.”
“That makes sense,” Syble conceded, touched and surprised by the honest admission. For one who rarely spoke with anything but unfettered optimism, Rose could apparently be realistically frank too. “I don’t think it will be the same, though. I’m not married or widowed, so there is no one to miss.”
When Rose smiled this time, the gesture felt almost chiding. “You don’t ever want to marry?”
“Not anymore.” She tilted her chin up at the declaration.
“I understand,” the widow said, nodding. “I was greatly hurt once too—before I married my George. I didn’t think I would ever get over the rejection.” Her intent look held no censure. “Yet I would have missed out on the greatest adventure of my life if I hadn’t risked opening my heart a second time.”
Syble stared down at their hands, a lump forming in her throat. “I’m tired of waiting…and hoping…some kind gentleman will come along who finds me suitable as a wife.” The assertion came out little more than a whisper, but to Syble, it reverberated off the canvas walls. “I’ve tried and tried to find someone to love, while also staying true to myself. And while Marcus might think the latter is admirable, it hasn’t made a difference.”
“Hasn’t it?”
The playfulness in her tone prompted Syble to look at her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You just said Marcus thinks it’s admirable that you’ve remained true to yourself.” Rose leaned toward her, the smile lines around her eyes deepening. “Don’t you think there are other things he admires about you too?”
Syble frowned. Could she trust Rose with these conflicting feelings about Marcus? Or would the widow rush to tell the others Syble’s confessions? She studied Rose’s lined face and saw nothing but genuine openness and caring etched there.
“I find it hard to believe that Marcus admires me,” she said at last.
“How come?”
“Because we once exasperated each other to no end,” Syble countered. “Things have changed for the better this time around, but…”
She let her words trail off into silence as memories of the past three weeks filled her mind. A great many things had changed between her and Marcus. She no longer found him irritating, for one. And though he might still be bookish and precise and ordered, he was kind and funny and wonderful to talk with. His touch affected her too. Whenever he’d embraced her or held her hand, Syble had felt as if she was in the middle of her own grand adventure, one she never wanted to end.
“I don’t think I would make him happy.” The truth burst from her lips before she could stop it. “What if I’m too impulsive and energetic for him? What if he grows tired of my spontaneity?” It would be Mr. Kirk all over again. Only this time, Syble feared it would hurt much more deeply.
Releasing her hands, Rose nudged her chin upward. “Does he make you happy?”
Syble didn’t hesitate in her answer. “He has, again and again these past few weeks. But is that enough to build a whole life on?” Or were they still too different?
“That’s something you’ll have to decide,” Rose said, rising slowly to her feet. “Just remember, Syble, an adventurous life can be exciting. But it can also become an escape from actually living. No life is without loss and heartache, because no life can be satisfying that hasn’t been fully lived—the good parts and the bad. With time, you might even learn to appreciate the difficult times, since those are what make the love we share with others all the sweeter.”
As Rose resumed packing, a comfortable quiet settled over the tent. Syble picked up the gloves again. Her heart felt in a tug-of-war with itself. She cared a great deal for Marcus—she might even say she’d begun to fall in love with him. And yet she didn’t know if she was ready to embrace that love.
She’d come on this trip determined to put romance and courtship and marriage behind her for good. Yet what if Rose was right? What if she was throwing away the greatest adventure of her life by insisting that she become a permanent member of the Wandering Widows?
Syble didn’t have to look too deeply to see that one compelling reason for her future plans had been fear. Her grandmother’s friend had been right about that. Syble feared being rejected again, by Marcus or
any other gentleman. But what if there was someone out there who would appreciate her independence of thought and character? Did she want to live out the rest of her days wondering what might have been if she’d given love one more chance?
She stood and placed the gloves inside the traveling case. “Were you scared, Rose? To try again after having your heart broken the first time?” The very idea set Syble’s stomach churning with rare nerves.
“I was terrified,” the widow admitted with a laugh. “But you know what? It was after I made the decision to gather my courage and offer others a real smile that I met George.”
Is that what I’m to do, Lord? The prayer fell silently from Syble’s lips as she returned to her task. Gather my courage once more and try again?
Several moments passed before a growing feeling of peace spread through her. It didn’t answer all of her questions, but Syble recognized its subtle guidance. God was letting her know which step to take right now.
Offering a second prayer of gratitude, she squared her shoulders, despite the sudden thudding of her pulse. If she could survive three seasons as herself and find a hidden tomb in Egypt, she could bravely risk her heart a second time.
* * *
Marcus sat in the chair inside his hotel room, his research book lying open on the side table. There was plenty of time to finish the book before he changed for dinner and joined the ladies in the dining room, but he couldn’t concentrate. For once a nap sounded better than reading. Leaning his head back, he shut his eyes.
The past two days had been busy ones, between contacting the Antiquities Service, showing them the tomb, and assisting in the removal and packing of the ancient objects. The treasure from the tomb would be put on display in the museum in Cairo. Everyone was pleased with that prospect, particularly Syble. Once the newspapers ran the story that she had volunteered to send, all six of their names would be linked to the items that visitors from around the world would soon enjoy viewing for themselves.
Thoughts of Syble pushed at his fatigue. He’d had little time to speak with her privately since the discovery of the treasure yesterday morning, and he knew opportunities were running short. In another few weeks, she would no longer be in Egypt—or in his life. Whatever time they had to spend together was moving to a rapid close.
And he wished he could stop it.
He hadn’t even begun to fully plan out what project he would do once he finished clearing his tomb. For the first time, though, the prospect of another dig didn’t hold much appeal to him. Especially when he knew he’d be doing it alone again. There would be no Gran and the other widows along this next time, encouraging him and providing company. No Syble to talk to, to laugh with, to take her hand in his.
Of course Marcus could ask his grandmother to accompany him on another dig—she would undoubtedly say yes, and she might even bring her friends with her. However, it was unlikely that Syble would remain a part of the widows’ group for long. Surely when the world heard of her tenacity and discovery, she would become the toast of society. Some other man would come along—someone who possessed a great deal more charm than Marcus, along with a propensity for fun and spontaneity—and he would sweep Syble away.
Groaning, he scrubbed his hands down his face and opened his eyes. Even dozing was impossible. He picked up his book, determined to make more headway, when someone knocked at his door.
Marcus rose from his chair. Perhaps it was a clerk with his laundered clothes or Gran with a question. Opening the door, he found Syble standing on the other side.
“Hello,” he said, belatedly remembering to smile.
She smiled back. “Hello.”
He waited for her to say something more, but she wordlessly glanced down at her hands, which she clasped and unclasped in nervous fashion.
“Is everything all right?” Marcus searched her face for any other signs of distress, but he was unable to catch even a glimpse of the feelings she normally communicated so visibly.
After a moment, she lifted her chin. “I came by to see if you’d be interested in attending an event tonight.”
“An event?” He tried to keep the weariness from his voice. The last thing he wished to do tonight was attend a social function.
Syble nodded, apparently oblivious to his reticence. “There’s going to be a ball this evening, here at the hotel. I remembered hearing something about it the other week but forgot all about it until now.”
“Is that young lady from Karnak going to be there? Miss Haleson?” If the brunette-headed girl was attending, that was surely Syble’s reason for wanting to drag Marcus along.
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Would you like her to be there?” A flicker of disappointment flashed in her eyes, then it faded as she fell back a step. “I can find out if she’s attending.”
“No, that isn’t necessary.” Marcus shook his head. “However, isn’t that why you wish me to attend? To dance with other young ladies?”
Once again, Syble wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You’re welcome to dance with whomever you like. I was only inviting you because Nana and I and the others are planning to attend.” Her hands were firmly clasped together once more. “And I thought it might be a fun way to celebrate all that we’ve accomplished and found these past several weeks.”
“Wait.” Marcus rubbed at his jaw in confusion. “Are you saying this is not another scheme of yours to introduce me to more eligible young ladies?”
An attractive blush washed over her cheeks. “How long have you known?”
“I suspected the night at the temple of Karnak, but I didn’t know for certain until the following two weekends.” He pocketed his hands and leaned against the doorframe. “You did seem quite determined to have me meet every unattached woman in Luxor between the ages of eighteen and thirty-eight.” Despite how maddening her efforts had been, Marcus knew she meant well. He only wished she’d included herself in the number of interested candidates.
Syble met his gaze directly this time. “I’m through with introductions, I promise.”
He was relieved to hear it, though still a bit puzzled. “Then you truly don’t care who I dance with if I attend the ball?”
“That’s not entirely true. I do care.” The confidence he’d come to adore in her filled her features as she set her shoulders and stood up straighter. “I’m hoping you’ll dance with me tonight.”
Syble wanted to dance…with him? The jolt of surprise that shot through him set his heart galloping with anticipation. Never had a social event sounded more delightful, not even when he’d been courting Esme. Nothing might come of being with Syble at the ball, but Marcus could at least cherish the feel of her in his arms one last time before she left Egypt—and him—for good.
Scooping up her hand, he placed a kiss against her knuckles. “It would be a great honor to dance with you tonight, Syble.”
“Then you’ll come?” The idea that she’d still been unsure, along with the breathless quality of her voice, drew a full smile from him. “The rest of us are going to head to dinner in a few minutes, so we can get ready for the ball as soon as we’re finished.”
Nodding, he let go of her hand, knowing he would get to claim it again before the night was over. “I will see you in a few minutes, then, and at the ball later. And I’m looking forward to both.”
CHAPTER 14
Syble shook her gloved fingers in a vain attempt to quell some of the restless energy coursing through her. Why in the world should she feel nervous? This wasn’t her first ball, and even then, she’d only experienced a smattering of anxious flutters. In contrast, a whole host of trembling butterflies had taken up residence inside her middle this evening. She’d eaten little at dinner because of it, her concentration centering on Marcus, who, to her relief and disappointment, had been seated on the opposite side of the table.
His complete change in demeanor when he’d realized she wanted to dance with him tonight had not been lost on Syble. And then when he’d kissed her hand…
/> The recollection of that kiss warmed her cheeks. She fanned her face with her hands and paced the rug in the sitting room. If her grandmother didn’t finish getting ready in the next few minutes, Syble might combust. All because she felt nervous to see a man in whose company she’d already spent the past three weeks.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t know Marcus. In truth, she knew a great deal about him, much more than she had the last time they’d been in Egypt together. Back then, she’d been a young girl, and Marcus had been barely past adolescence himself. However, tonight she longed to know if he saw something more in her than a reflection of the girl she’d once been or the good friend she’d become.
Therein lay the source of her nervousness.
She bit back a cheer of relief as her grandmother entered the room at last, looking lovely in a dark-maroon ball gown that attractively set off her gray hair. “Ready, my dear?”
“Absolutely,” Syble said with far more confidence than she felt.
Nana smiled and tugged her own gloves into place. “You look very beautiful, Syble.”
“Thank you.” She returned her grandmother’s smile with a sincere one of her own. “So do you, Nana.”
On their way to the door, Syble took one final glance in the mirror. A maid had helped curl and arrange her blond hair at the back of her head. Her dress was decorated with gold and teal beadwork atop an underskirt of pale blue that flowed to the floor. Even the train held swirls of gold beads along the hem. It was the only new gown she’d commissioned for this trip, since her other clothes, from last season, worked well enough for a dig project in Luxor. But when her grandmother had mentioned before they’d left New York that the hotel held regular balls, Syble had decided to purchase a new ball gown. Tonight, she felt especially grateful she had.
The new dress and its vivid colors, along with the anticipation of dancing, helped shore up some of her flagging self-assurance as she and her grandmother left their hotel room. They met Ethel, Rose, and Florence in the lobby. Syble hadn’t seen the three of them dressed in all of their ballroom finery in some time, and each widow looked resplendent. How much they had each come to mean to her.
