What the Dashing Duke Deserves (Lords of Happenstance, #3)

by Sandra Sookoo

  I don’t wish to die. Not here, and certainly not like this.

  “Steady, Juliana,” Crispin crooned as he slipped closer to the foot of the bed. The snake remained focused on her. “No matter what, do not move.”

  As if I could.

  The longer the deadly standoff went on, the more her strength failed. She caught herself swaying and locked her knees like her agent training had taught her. When her hands shook, she slowly clenched them into fists. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and trickled down her back. The moisture chilled her, and she stopped a shiver. A whimper escaped when the serpent rose up higher from its black coil. The dark flick of its tongue fairly spelled out her doom. Was it even now biding its time? Any moment now it would strike, and it was doubtful she’d move fast enough to avoid the attack, especially with the mosquito netting around her.

  “Crispin, do something,” she pleaded, her voice little more than a choked whisper. “I cannot stand much more of this. It never blinks.”

  “Patience,” he replied in a singsong voice, at the foot of the bed now. Though he was a mere two feet away from her, it might as well have been two miles. With his free hand he pulled back the netting bit by slow bit until he’d opened a slit a few inches wide.

  Oh God. Her strength and sanity rapidly fled. Blackness crept into the edges of her vision. Her lungs labored as she drew in breath. How many more until her last? A slight roaring filled her ears. She swallowed as a feeling of lightheadedness came over her and she struggled to see the snake as her eyes blurred with welling tears. At least she wouldn’t feel the bite...

  The second her knees gave out, Crispin fired the pistol.

  Bang!

  Fabric rustled. Juliana screamed and fell into blessed oblivion.

  She regained consciousness to strange but pleasant sensations. There was a slight, fleeting pressure on her lips, her cheeks, and the warmth imparted made her sigh. Have I died? Her right side was pressed against a hard chest, and the person who belonged to that chest had a rapid heartbeat. Words vibrated in her ears, but she couldn’t concentrate on puzzling them out. The acrid scent of gunpowder lingered in the air. Curious at the aftermath, she let her eyes flutter open and she drew in a sharp breath.

  “Crispin...” Held in his lap like a baby, she wished to snuggle into his arms and enjoy the feeling of security and strength he imparted. “What of the snake?”

  “Dead. I didn’t miss.” Strain and worry lined his face. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “Miss Barrington lives, thanks to the quick actions of Herrick, so this touching tableau can break up now.” The earl’s booming voice yanked her out of the surreal feeling. The burn of embarrassment seeped into her cheeks. “Everyone return to your rooms. Let us hope we can all settle into sleep after this bit of drama.”

  A sigh from the countess swept away the remainder of her fears. “Miles, don’t be so unfeeling. She just had a fright, even a brush with death.” The efficiency in her tone brought order to the scene. “Crispin, carry her into Francine’s room. They can share tonight, and tomorrow I’ll see about cleaning the bedding here. As well as removing the carcass.”

  Juliana gave into a shiver. Would she ever forget what had waited for her hidden in the bedclothes? How would she find sleep again?

  “At once, Lady Archewyne.” But he didn’t move. Neither did Juliana. When the onlookers filtered from the room, he sighed and his breath warmed her cheek. “Don’t do that to me again,” he ordered but his voice shook slightly. “My heart nearly seized with terror.”

  Her attempt at laughter failed. She sounded like a wheezing goat. “I will endeavor not to, for it wasn’t any more pleasant for me.” A shiver shook her body, and she was very aware that she lounged in his arms in a thin night dress. “From now on, no more undressing in the dark.”

  Or waiting until life improved to actually live it.

  Chapter Twelve

  November 4, 1822

  Crispin remained shaken about the cobra incident long after breakfast the next morning and well into the carriage ride as he and Juliana headed to Luxor. Had the appearance of the snake been an accident or was it warning?

  Or worse yet, had it been intentionally placed in her bedding in order to do her harm or even kill her? His gut clenched at the implications. If the latter, who had so much animosity toward her that they’d wish her dead?

  “Are you quite certain you’ve suffered no ill-effects from last night?” he finally asked as the carriage pulled up in front of the Colossi of Memnon. They’d decided to start their tour at the far side of Luxor and make their way back toward Archewyne House by dinner.

  “Crispin, I am fine.” Juliana turned her head and peered at him from beneath the brim of a straw bonnet trimmed with turquoise ribbons and white silk flowers. It matched the turquoise gown he’d admired on her shortly after they’d met. “Please stop worrying.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible.” He rested his gloved hands on his knees and curled one of them into a fist. “There was a bloody cobra in your bedclothes. You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t. Let’s remember the good instead of the bad.” She arched an eyebrow. “What is bothering you more: regret that I didn’t perish, disappointment that I didn’t last long in the faint, or annoyance that I didn’t fall all over you in gratitude for rescuing me?”

  “None of those things.” Heat crept up his neck, for he well remembered what she’d felt like in his arms the night before. The same time that she’d fainted, he’d fired the pistol and his shot had been true. The snake had blown apart from the ball to the head and then he had rushed through the mosquito netting to kneel by Juliana’s side, check her vital signs. Afterward, he’d pulled her into his lap and held her, even went so far as to kiss her closed eyes and her lips, despite the fact that Archewyne looked on, as did the rest of the expedition. “I’m genuinely concerned about you, and you must admit, finding a serpent in one’s bed would render quite the fright.”

  “I was indeed shocked, and properly terrified, and I’m afraid I didn’t act with courage as I should have.” She turned her head away as the carriage rocked when the driver jumped down. “A King’s agent should have showed more backbone,” she murmured as the door was swung open.

  “A King’s agent is only human. You’d do well to remember that.” Crispin declined to comment further on the matter. Soon they were both out of the conveyance. He asked the driver to remain, for they would complete their tour in under an hour, then he offered his crooked elbow to Juliana and led her toward the giant pair of statues, which stood about fifty-nine feet tall and depicted King Amenhotep III, who once guarded the king’s temple. That particular edifice had crumbled but not so badly that it would imminently return to the dust of time. The colossi were nearly intact, and their sheer size made the trip worth doing.

  “Good heavens!” Juliana exclaimed as she looked up at the statues the closer they came. “I hadn’t anticipated they’d be so large or so imposing.”

  He chuckled. The worry gripping his mind fled for the moment. “That is the mindset of the Egyptian pharaohs for you. The bigger, the better, and the more intimidating meant the longer they’d remain monuments to the ego.”

  “The reasoning worked, for all of these thousands of years later, the monuments and statues still exist and make us remember.” She released his arm in a bid to examine the base of one of the statues. Compared to the sheer size of the carved stone, Juliana was dwarfed—a brightly-colored blip of cheerfulness in an otherwise drab landscape. The excitement and wonder shining in her blue eyes was more than enough thanks he needed. His anxiety melted.

  Nothing more of consequence was said, for touring the temple took up his time and concentration. Where his knowledge failed, Juliana stepped in with hers, and in short order, they were again in the carriage, this time headed to the Luxor Temple Complex.

  “If this feeling of exhilaration and perspective is what the rest of the day wil
l hold, I might need to kiss you once we’re back home,” Juliana murmured with a sly smile that lit tiny fires in his blood.

  “Ah, well, if that’s the reward after hours spent in the heat and the dust while touring monuments of the dead, I should do it more often.” His own smile was wide. Perhaps the incident with the snake was merely a coincidence after all. Cobras did live all over Egypt, and it was natural one would find its way into bedding. “I had no idea seeing the sights would put you into an amorous frame of mind,” he couldn’t help adding.

  The blush on her cheeks was the only indication that she’d heard his statement.

  Crispin sat back against the squabs and grinned at the passing scenery. It was progress.

  The Karnak Temple Complex featured multiple temples, two obelisks, hieroglyphs and a sacred lake that was used for special rituals. Leading up to the property’s entrance was the Avenue of Sphinxes, which connected the temple sites of both Luxor and Karnak.

  He and Juliana took a basket packed with all the essentials for lunch to stave off hunger plus ample tea and water to head off thirst and dehydration. It had been Lady Archewyne who’d insisted upon the supplies, and he hadn’t argued the point, for midway into the tour, his stomach began to rumble.

  While the sphinxes held his interest for far longer than they should, Juliana practically salivated over the architecture of Karnak Temple.

  “It’s as if we’ve traveled back in time.” She twirled about between massive columns covered with hieroglyphs. Her skirts flared and offered him a glimpse of her calves clad in white silken hose. The brown leather ankle boots added an explorer’s touch. “I feel if I peered close enough through the shimmering heat, I could catch the passage of worshipers as they came to pay homage.” Each temple was large and offered insight into life of the ancient Egyptians.

  “It is quite amazing,” he couldn’t help but agree.

  “This site was referred to as Ipet Isut, or ‘most select of places,’ by the ancient Egyptians. It was dedicated to the Theben triad of Amun, Mut and Khonsu.”

  “How utterly fascinating.” He looked about him with another dose of awe. “I could spend a lifetime here and not see everything.”

  “I know exactly how you feel.”

  They stopped for lunch while nestled between a long row of pillars. Juliana perched herself on the squared base of a pillar and tucked into the cold chicken, cheese, and bread as if she hadn’t eaten in a year.

  Crispin didn’t blame her. Hiking over the expansive complex induced quite the appetite, and he ate through his share of the lunch while lounging on the gritty stone floor, his back against a pillar base opposite from her position. “Thank God the countess was able to find a decent cook for the expedition. I had visions of eating preserved food in glass jars for months on end while on the dig.”

  Juliana’s lyrical laughter blended with the anemic breeze and provided another level of magic to the abandoned ruins. “It seems she’s thought of everything. Aside from the heat and the sand, one could almost pretend it was London.”

  “Except I much prefer this location for the moment,” he said, his gaze firmly anchored to her face as she ate with gusto. It was quite refreshing to see a woman thoroughly enjoy a meal like she did.

  “London has become trying of late?”

  “You could say that.” Crispin heaved out a breath. “Attempting to make amends for the title isn’t going as I’d hoped.” He chewed on a mouthful of bread and swallowed before speaking again. “The damage done by the man who held the title before me runs deep, and the people he shamed, blackmailed, extorted, or ruined aren’t willing to believe I wish to help. It’s both maddening and disheartening.”

  “I’m sorry.” She took a sip from a glass bottle of water. “If it’s something you are passionate about, don’t give up. With time, those people will see how earnest you are.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Juliana patted her lips with a linen napkin. “Is the earl content with you being away from the dig?”

  “It’s essentially his project.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m superfluous at the moment.”

  After removing the pit, she popped a date into her mouth and chewed. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Ambivalent. I’m funding the dig, so I can come and go as I please.” He consumed a few more slivers of roasted chicken. “I trust him. Once something exciting happens, I’ll rejoin him.”

  She looked at him over the short distance that separated them. Concern clouded her cornflower eyes. “I suspect you trust him with more than just the dig.”

  “I do.” He nodded to strengthen the statement. “Did you trust Rathesborne like that?”

  Her gaze fell to the napkin in her lap. “I did... before...” She pressed her lips together and finally raised her eyes until she met his. Emotion didn’t cloud the depths. Did she struggle with her training and her need to share? “I would have done anything for the duke, and did so cheerfully in my career, but when he threw me to the wolves...” Juliana shook her head. “I have a difficult time trusting anyone, especially if they are a King’s agent.” She blew out a breath that ruffled a curl on her forehead. “I understand why he was upset, but he should have admonished and corrected from a place of love instead of anger.”

  “I quite agree.” Crispin cocked an eyebrow. “I’m trying to change your mind about that. Not all of us have a temper, nor do we have the responsibilities that Rathesborne had.”

  “I know.” Her smile didn’t light her eyes. “I appreciate your efforts, but it will take time.”

  “That’s all we have while in Egypt. It’s not as if these long-dead kings are going anywhere.” His voice didn’t convey the humor that he felt.

  Juliana snickered. “Even their ghosts have quit the area.”

  The humor swept away any residual maudlin thoughts, and he considered it a win. There were times when the pursuit of a woman was an enduring foot race and one needed to have patience and persistence.

  “Come.” He rose. “Let us finish our tour here so we can go on to the next place on our agenda.”

  By the time they arrived at the Temple of Hatshepsut, the sun was high in the sky and the heat shimmered over the landscape, but the site was the place he’d wished to visit since the day Juliana announced she was also after the Staff of the Gods.

  In the distance, dust rose and muffled singing from workers signaled an active archeological dig. Was that where Lord Ramsay had attached himself? Crispin’s gut clenched. Perhaps, if so, he’d stay there and leave them in peace.

  “This is more amazing than I imagined it would be by reading travelogues.” He stood with his hands on his hips in the attempt to take it all in.

  Though the Valley of the Kings was five miles away, the terrain here was no different. Situated at the base of limestone cliffs in Deir el-Bahri—the same type of landscape flanking most of the Valley—and everything around them was dun-colored and dusty.

  Built to honor the sun-god Amon-Re and the female pharaoh—who was believed to have descended from Amon-Re—the Temple of Hatshepsut stood out for its grand architecture amidst the jaw-dropping landscape that put one in mind of ancient places and the pageantry of court. The funerary temple featured three tiers of porticos with statues, pillars and hieroglyphs. It also contained two chapels—Hathor’s on the left and one to Anubis on the right, plus two ramps that connected the lower terrace to the upper terrace.

  “That is how I’ve felt this whole day,” Juliana said from beside him as she, too, gazed at the sprawling edifice before them. A fair amount of awe wove through her voice.

  His boot heels rang against the cobblestone path as they approached. The sheer size of the temple and the multitude of pillars of the lower court staggered the mind. “Where should we start?”

  Her laughter wrapped about him like an errant wind. “At the beginning, and we’ll make our way to the upper court. I’d especially like to see the sanctuary beyond that. If I’m right, that’s where the relief
s I need will be located, according to the director. It has recently been opened to tourists.”

  “Your wish is my command.” As they proceeded, chills raced up and down his spine. There was a certain hush of sacred communion about the place, and everywhere they went, the life of the pharaohs and the gods they worshipped were made abundantly clear. “This is incredible,” he said of a pillar covered in hieroglyphs depicting a day in the life of the queen. Unfortunately, the face of the pharaoh had been chiseled off in antiquity, but there was still no doubt of who the personage was.

  “To think we’re standing on the same ground that Hatshepsut walked in her heyday... or at least visited since she put Moses in charge of designing and building the place.” Everywhere Juliana moved, she traced gloved fingertips along the reliefs and carvings. At times, she’d read from the inscriptions, and with every word she spoke, it was as if history came alive, and his respect for her grew.

  “How long have you known how to translate hieroglyphs?”

  “Years. However, the ones utilized here are of a different dialect, and there are vast portions I’m not at all confident about.” She shrugged. “Consider it a hobby, of sorts. I was afforded much free time before I joined the King’s agents, and honestly, I think this skill was one reason Rathesborne included me into the fold.” When a pleased grin curved her lips, he stared at her mouth and wanted desperately to kiss her. “Once I became an agent, my interests were taken up with other things, but I continued to study when I was afforded time.”

  “And once you were exiled to Cairo, you had nothing but that. Plus, those skills were in high demand.”

  “Exactly. I learned much from the director of the museum.” She nodded though her happiness held a tinge of sadness. “In addition, I can read and write ancient Hebrew as well as Latin and Greek.”