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

by Sandra Sookoo

  Even now, the two fellahin that had accompanied them into the passageway refused to look at the brittle brown leg.

  Archewyne had a decidedly squeamish expression. Crispin inserted himself into the conversation. “I will remove the remains myself. None of you will need to worry over it. We’ll take it back to the expedition house where the surgeon can examine it.”

  “Excellent.” There was no mistaking the relief in the earl’s voice. “Meanwhile, the ladies can return to their work. Herrick and I will remain here as guard and then assist in removing the slab.” He moved to assist Francine to her feet. “Allow me to escort you back.”

  “Thank you.” She flashed him a grateful smile. “You can critique my work so far. It’s truly such an exciting prospect to paint such masterful work.”

  As their voices died down while the party moved along the passageway toward the entrance, Crispin shoved a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I’m not certain what I thought this adventure would bring, but it’s definitely not this.”

  Juliana’s laughter rang off the stones and filled the closed space with much-needed levity. “Egypt is a country based on and thriving off of the dead. Best prepare for every possibility.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” He brushed at a streak of dirt on her cheek. When she trembled, he smiled. “How goes the work with the relief?”

  “Slowly. As was the case in Queen Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple, the hieroglyphs are difficult to translate, but from the little I do understand, it appears the young lady pictured is her daughter.”

  “Then that would make her...” Crispin narrowed his eyes as he wracked his brain. “Neferure. The princess and only daughter born to the queen.”

  “Yes.” Juliana nodded. “That we know of.” She shrugged. “The male pharaohs were notorious at having offspring from concubines. It would have been more difficult for Hatshepsut to become pregnant by a lover, but she could have easily hidden such a thing and then handed the babe to a member of the court after swearing them to secrecy and paying them off.”

  The knowledge she had impressed the hell out of him. How long had she spent tucked away in those archives by herself, poring over ancient texts and scripts, hiding away from life and her perceived failures? “Why do I have the feeling you’ve done more of your fair share of thinking about the life of this queen?”

  A faint blush infused her cheeks. “It’s odd, I know, but I’ve formed a kinship of sorts with her after being in Egypt for so long.” She pressed her lips together as she held his gaze. “She was misunderstood much of her reign, and she was forced to work twice as hard as her male counterparts to make an impression. In the end, she succeeded and built Egypt’s might before she died, yet jealousy and hatred saw that she was all but removed from history.” She drew in a shuddering sigh. “I don’t want that same thing to happen to me. Rathesborne started the events by sending me to Cairo. Out of sight, out of mind. What will be next?”

  “That will never happen. You’ll keep on until the rest of us are forced to dance attendance.” Daring much, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms for a brief embrace. When she didn’t protest or rebuff him, he considered that a private victory. Then, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he released her. “Keep going. Never stop fighting. For anything. I promise, you will succeed, and if nothing else, I’ll remember you.”

  She patted his cheek, and her eyes were limpid and full of unreadable emotion. “If you keep on with those sentiments, you’ll find yourself leg-shackled to a lovely lady in no time. Women adore a supportive man, and you are all of that and more.”

  Do you wish to be that lady? But he was too much a coward to ask. In the end, he wasn’t given the chance, for as they stood there staring at one another, the echo of conversation and footsteps drifted down the passageway. Archewyne and the workers were returning. “If that is indeed the case, perhaps I should turn up the charm,” he said softly with a raised eyebrow.

  “Do hush.” With a sigh, Juliana moved to the edge of the fallen slab. A gasp escaped her. She squeezed herself into the space between the edge of the limestone and the wall.

  “What the devil are you doing?” Crispin hissed. His chest tightened in alarm. “You don’t know what’s back there or if there are more traps waiting.”

  “This is true, but I thought I caught a glimpse of another relief and I wanted to check before they attempt to raise the stone. It might be damaged in the process.”

  Asking her not to plunge headlong into danger was like trying to pin a cloud to the wall. With a sigh, he moved closer. “What do you see?”

  “A painting featuring Hatshepsut. She’s presiding over her army and a recent victory.” Juliana’s giggle sounded eerie in the tight space. “Yet another clue that this tomb was originally meant for her.” When she turned her head, she met his gaze. Excitement gleamed in her eyes. “We are close, Crispin. So very close.”

  He grinned the same time she did. “On the verge of a great discovery?” Would they find the queen’s tomb after all?

  “Perhaps, but whatever else is down here, you’ll make the papers for certain.”

  “Only if you are featured as well.” Theirs was a partnership.

  Before she could respond, Archewyne was upon them.

  “Good God, Miss Barrington! Come out from there this instant. I am not paying the surgeon to continue patching up our digging party for minor lacerations and abrasions.”

  Both she and Crispin shared a laugh, but she squeezed herself from the space.

  “Do see that you can manage to avoid destroying that relief, Lord Archewyne. I want to examine it in depth,” she said with a hint of command in her voice.

  The earl cocked an eyebrow while Crispin stifled a snort. “I’ll see what I can do.” He waved a hand. “In the meantime, go back to the house for tea. Raising the slab will take some doing. I’ll send a messenger once it’s done so that Herrick can retrieve our mummified friend.”

  Juliana set out down the passageway, but when Crispin went to follow, Archewyne grabbed hold of his good shoulder.

  “How’s the arm?”

  “Still sore but doing better.”

  “Good.” The earl nodded. “We’ll need you at full strength tomorrow. For now, rest. Like I said, I’ll send a man if your presence is required back here. You’re the sponsor not the labor.”

  Crispin frowned. Is that all the earl saw him as, the man with the coin that made the dig possible? Buggar it. “I will. Thank you.” Then he narrowed his eyes, too tired to argue. “You think I cannot contribute anything useful.”

  “No, I think your skills are more likely needed to keep an eye on Miss Barrington. In light of the new information of your mission now being linked to this tomb, the wisest course of action is to keep a guard at the house whenever one of you are there.” Concern shadowed his dark eyes. “My family is there as well. Do me proud. I have a few men posted on the outside of the residence as a back-up plan.”

  Cold disappointment coiled inside his gut. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me to think along those lines.” Crispin didn’t like having to admit a failure. “Damn, but this being an agent is more difficult than I’d anticipated.”

  A bark of laughter escaped the other man while the foreman and the workers set out their tools and long lengths of rope. “It never gets easier, my friend. You gain knowledge as you go along. It’s the concern that varies by degrees.”

  How did the earl manage it, running a dig, keeping clues about the case fresh in his mind while worrying about his family? His respect for the other man grew. Perhaps one day he’d play on that same level. But for now, he was content with the learning process.

  Twenty minutes later, Crispin arrived at Archewyne House, and as he did, he caught a glimpse of a native man squatting behind a few potted palms now placed beneath the windows where the earl’s suite of rooms was located. Though the stance was for protection, it was decidedly creepy, but Crispin nodded to the man just the s
ame.

  Going forward, he would arm himself. If his gut was right, once they reached that burial chamber, things would come to a head. It was best if they had the advantage. Why didn’t the nameless threat just come forward? No sense continuing to hide.

  Bah! The intrigue was too much.

  Inside the house, the corridors were empty. No one occupied the parlor or the drawing room. Not even the ever-present butler showed himself. There was no echo of children’s laughter. Perhaps the occupants had taken advantage of the quiet to nap or rest.

  And he’d be a bacon-brained idiot not to use the lull for his own purposes.

  Since no one was about, he moved as quietly as he could down the hallway containing the bedrooms, and when he reached Juliana’s door, he gave a soft knock and then pressed the brass handle and easily let himself inside.

  “Juliana?” Crispin saw her as soon as he whispered her name. She stood in front of her basin in only her shift, cleansing away the dust and grime the day had brought. He cleared his throat as fire licked through his blood. “I can return once you’re decent.”

  “Clothes, or the lack of them, don’t make a woman decent.” She met his gaze in the mirror on the wall. “You are more than welcome to stay, and I’ll caution you to be quiet. The countess is napping, but she’s a light sleeper, and she’s curious besides.”

  “Very well.” When he averted his focus, she sighed.

  “You will insist on sticking to gallantry? Even after we were intimate?”

  Heat sailed up the back of his neck and into his ears. “I cannot help it.” He once more met her gaze in the mirror, which kept his focus off the flare of her hips and the nip of her waist and the healthy peach hue of her skin that showed through the thin fabric of the shift. Did she not realize how tempting she appeared?

  “Sometimes a lady doesn’t want a man to ask permission.” The sultry whisper sent tremors through his cock.

  Damn it, but she did realize, and what was more, she would use it to her advantage.

  Again, he looked away as acute embarrassment took up residence in his chest. “What is it that you want a one-armed man to do?”

  “You’re a smart man as well.” She folded the towel she held and laid it on the side of the basin. Then she turned and faced him. “Use your imagination.” As she moved, prowling toward him, he couldn’t help but stare. The front of her shift was wet and molded to her breasts leaving the outline of her pink, erect nipples on display through the sheer cloth.

  Bloody hell, I’m in trouble.

  He was obliged to stifle a groan. “What are you doing to me?” he asked in a barely-there whisper. Every time she came near, his thoughts muddled and he couldn’t remember his name. “I won’t lie and tell you I don’t enjoy being with you carnally, but I want you for far more than that, so please don’t disrespect me by using my desire against me. You needn’t flaunt sexuality in order to secure my regard.”

  “I...” She pressed her lips together before sighing. “Perhaps I need to unlearn what I’ve learned since becoming an agent.” Shadows clouded her eyes, but she didn’t stop her forward movement until she stood directly in front of him. Then she rested a trembling hand on his chest. “I’m not looking for a declaration, Crispin, but your company is vastly satisfying.”

  “Then you wish for my company only to satisfy those womanly urges you spoke about earlier?” He couldn’t keep the touch of annoyance from his voice. Why couldn’t she see that he wasn’t the type of man to leave her bed if someone else caught his eye? But then, it was too early in the conversation to know if his heart was engaged, and hers surely wasn’t.

  “Do stop being so bloody literal,” she fairly purred and moved her hands up his chest. The jasmine scent of her enveloped him, and he rested his hands on the curve of her hips, slipping one down to caress his fingers along the slope of her bum. “Why can you not enjoy what’s between us instead of thinking about what might be there in the future?” She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and tugged him closer.

  And he was powerless to resist. There would be opportunity later to curse himself for a fool later, but right now, he wanted her for whatever she would give. The more time spent in her company meant he had a chance to convince her that their professional partnership could easily bend to encompass the personal as well. After all, hadn’t his chums done it successfully?

  “You are the most vexing woman I’ve ever met,” he whispered seconds before he brought his mouth crashing down on hers, claiming her, telling her without words that she was his and that he would do anything for her.

  Beyond that, she was the most addicting. He couldn’t have enough.

  Frantic energy passed between. Crispin pulled her flush against his body so she would have no questions as to his desire. She held him close, kissing him back as if they’d been doing such things all their lives. When he trailed the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened for him, and he groaned again. The warmth of her, the softness, the press of her curves against him drove him mad. Why couldn’t she see they were a good fit in all the ways that mattered? But he shoved those thoughts from his head to concentrate on her. They fenced with each other; first he retained mastery and then she did. The embrace was a game of give and take that left them breathless, and him that much more enchanted.

  Crispin turned them about and walked her backward until the door halted their movement. Then he set about kissing her senseless, more to prove a point than anything else. It was he who fell into the wonder that was her, gave himself over to the petal-silkiness of her lips, him who let her bewitchment catch him up as he cupped her perfect breasts. They filled his palms as if made for him. The little sounds of pleasure she uttered at the back of her throat heightened his awareness. Over and over he teased her nipples with the pads of his thumbs, and through it all he devoured her mouth with his.

  Women he’d trysted with before hadn’t sent him aflame like this one did. None of them had left their stamp on every part of him like Juliana had.

  Why the devil was that? Such things couldn’t happen like a bolt of lightning, could they?

  As he drew up the hem of her shift, a series of insistent knocking on the door scattered his thoughts and concentration. They both froze, chests heaving.

  “Who is that?” she mouthed to him, her eyes wide and dark with passion, her kiss-swollen lips all the more tempting as they balanced on the edge of discovery.

  “Miss Barrington?” The earl’s voice came from the other side of the door.

  Devil take the man. Crispin eased away from her, which allowed her to slip from the panel. Why couldn’t he mind his own business?

  Archewyne continued, “The work on the slab will take more time, but I’d like for you to make headway on those first translations before nightfall.” Another series of knocks landed on the door. “Are you there, Miss Barrington?”

  “Bloody hell,” Crispin whispered as he stared at her, his member throbbing in need, heat coursing through his veins, and she looked back, the same frustration in her expression that he experienced.

  Finally, she sighed. “I’ll be right there, my lord. I’m finishing dressing.”

  “Excellent. After I take some tea and check on Emmaline, I’ll join you at the tomb.” The sound of his boots retreating rang in the silence that followed. “Herrick!” The call boomed after him. “Where the devil have you gotten off to?”

  “I love the man like a brother, but he is wearing out his welcome.” Crispin blew out a breath. He shoved both hands through his hair and willed himself not to pull out the strands by their roots. “While he is about, we’re doomed to remain celibate, chaste even,” he whispered.

  “So it would seem.” Juliana pressed a hand to her mouth, effectively stifling her soft laughter. Her eyes reflected the hilarity of the situation, and it pulled a reluctant grin from him. “If nothing else, it will make things more... interesting between us.”

  “Which might necessitate inventive meetings,” he
finished the thought for her. But at the moment, it was deuced uncomfortable.

  In more ways than one. At least it took his mind off the nagging feeling that danger was imminent. And perhaps it would show her he was indeed all that she’d need.

  Chapter Seventeen

  November 8, 1822

  After breakfast that morning, Lord Archewyne assembled everyone in the drawing room. Juliana’s chest tightened with anxiety, for this felt different than the usual daily briefings. There was more riding on the tasks ahead, and that meant danger would undoubtedly follow.

  “As you know, today marks a new direction in the search for the burial chamber of our as yet unnamed tomb owner.” The earl cast a glance about the room, briefly landing on each person present. “The workers are raising the limestone slab as we speak, which will clear the way for all of us to really sink into our assigned tasks. With luck, and if there are no traps, we’ll reach that chamber by nightfall.”

  A few questions were asked, and as Lord Archewyne fielded those, Juliana’s focus went inward into her thoughts.

  Last evening, before everyone quit the tomb as the sun set, she had written down as many of the hieroglyphs that she could, and then spent a few hours following dinner puzzling out possible meanings to them. Without a cypher, the task was next to impossible, and with the director of the museum in Cairo dead, there was no one to consult with. She would have to rely on Francine’s renderings and attempt to assume what was taking place during the scenes depicted in the relief.

  Crispin had arrived as she toiled. He’d winked at her as he’d passed, and the curious flutters in her bely he’d left behind puzzled and concerned her. She had no business falling for the duke, not after what she’d done, not after the part she’d played in the death of her husband. He didn’t deserve one such as her, but the feeling persisted each time she saw him.

  He’d come back through an hour later with the mummy wrapped in a cloth. His eyes had shone with excitement, for he’d told her of a golden amulet found clutched in its brown, shriveled hand as well as a few jeweled scarabs cushioned beneath the mummy’s body. Definitely a grave robber thwarted. Had the burial chamber been robbed in antiquity then, or was he merely a scout bringing back proof of his find to his den of thieves?