“We have an important day tomorrow that’s certain to be quite strenuous and I would like to sleep tonight.” She nodded and moved to the bedroom, yanking the curtains closed behind her. She had no desire to talk to him at the moment. In truth she wasn’t at all certain how she felt. Or rather what to do about how she felt. It was most confusing. She was certainly upset and somewhat hurt as well. And apparently angry.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“I really have nothing to say.”
“You’ve been saying nothing all night.” Frustration sounded in his voice. “I know you’re angry with me, as does everyone else who was with us this evening, but I can’t fix the problem until I know what it is. At least tell me what I’ve done!”
“Good night, Harry.”
“I don’t think this is the least bit amusing, Sidney.”
“Then we have that in common.”
Sidney struggled to get her evening gown off but she’d decided against calling for a maid with Harry in the room. Under other circumstances, she might ask him for help but then one thing would lead to another. She shivered at the mere thought of one thing leading to another. How on earth could she want the man this badly when her heart felt like a leaden weight in her chest? An obligation? Hadn’t she taken care of her mother, managed their household, studied everything she could find about Egypt and then become a rousingly successful writer? That was not the kind of woman who was anyone’s obligation. Damn the man—she was Queen of the blasted Desert! She threw on her night things, snapped off the light and fell into bed.
“It’s no fun arguing by yourself, you know,” Harry called after a few minutes of silence.
She refused to say anything. Hopefully he’d think she was asleep, not that she thought he would. Besides, she had no idea what to say. On one hand—it did seem rather unfair to fault the man for doing what was expected of him. Of being willing to do the right thing. On the other—an obligation was not how one wanted to be regarded by the man one loved.
“Can we at least talk in the morning?”
Not that he had done anything at all yet. He certainly hadn’t offered to make an honest woman of her. Marriage had not been mentioned. Nor had she expected it. She really hadn’t thought about it one way or the other. Still, when one has fallen head over heels for a man, one did tend to hope that he felt the same way about you. One certainly did not want to hear that he considered you an obligation.
An obligation? That was even worse than kissing her out of necessity.
She tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than an hour or so. She wasn’t going to get any sleep like this. It was pointless to even try. Nor did it seem right that the cause of her restlessness was probably having no problem sleeping at all. What nerve of the man! She threw off the covers, stalked to the curtains and flung them aside. “An obligation? You think of me as an obligation?”
“What?” His groggy voice sounded from the sofa.
“You’re asleep?” How could he possibly sleep when she was so upset? How...inconsiderate!
“What?”
She flipped on the overhead light and took a measure of satisfaction in the way he cringed in the brightness. She at least was prepared.
“I don’t want to be your obligation, Harry. I want—well, I’m not sure what I want but I don’t want to be someone you’re with out of duty or expectations.” She raised her chin. “And I certainly don’t need to be.”
He rose stiffly from the sofa and a twinge of guilt stabbed her. She ignored it. “What are you talking about?”
“Right here in this very room, you told Effie and Gwen and Poppy you were aware of your obligations.”
He blinked at her. “That’s what you’re angry about?”
“I don’t want to be an obligation.” She knew she was repeating herself but it did seem to be a pertinent point. “Not to anyone but especially not to you. I have made my own way in the world, for the most part, for years. Why, for the first time in my life, I haven’t had to concern myself about money—money I earned on my own. Some of us don’t have fortunes and wealthy uncles you know.”
“You’re mad, you do realize that.” He stepped closer. She didn’t like the look in his eye.
She stepped back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He ignored her. “Fortunately for you—” he scooped her into his arms and started toward the bed “—I like a touch of insanity.”
“I assure you, I’m completely rational!”
“You are a lunatic, Sidney Honeywell.” He dumped her on the bed and she scrambled under the covers. She had obviously pushed him too far. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. “For future reference—not that I expect you to be in a situation even remotely comparable to this for the rest of your days—the things a man says to an old lady who is demanding he make an honest woman out of the woman he loves while he’s hiding behind a curtain, half-dressed, should be taken not only with a grain of salt but the entire salt cellar!”
She stared.
“As for you being my obligation, yes, you’re my obligation. You became my obligation the moment I realized I couldn’t live without you.” He shook his head in obvious disbelief then sat on the bed and removed his socks. “And I refuse to sleep on that blasted sofa again!”
“I see.” This was certainly something to consider. Not that she really needed to do so. Her heart warmed, her ire vanished and she held her breath. “Would you say that again?”
“Which part?” He stood and unbuttoned his trousers.
“The good part.”
“The part about my not being able to live without you?” Harry stepped out of his trousers, slipped into bed and pulled her into his arms. She toyed with the idea of resisting but it seemed pointless. And stupid.
“Yes, well, that was good,” she murmured. “But not that part.”
“Then perhaps you want to hear the part where I said a man should not be held accountable for comments made while he’s hiding behind curtains.”
“Also good but not exactly the part I was curious about.”
“I can’t think of anything else—”
“Good Lord, Harry.” She twisted out of his grasp, sat up and glared at him. “You know exactly what part I’m talking about.”
His brow furrowed and he shook his head. “I’m really not sure.”
“Are you truly trying to drive me mad?”
“I told you I like a little insanity.” He grinned and drew her back into his arms. “In the women I love.” He paused. “Although that’s not entirely true.”
“It’s not?” Her heart froze.
“No.” He chose his words with care. “I used the word women which is not accurate. I have never said that word to any woman.”
“Which word? Women?” she said innocently.
“No, not women.” He studied her suspiciously. “You know what word I’m talking about.
“Say it, Harry.”
“I said it once.”
“Not to me.”
“I said it about you.”
She shook her head. “Not the same.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re teasing me, Miss Honeywell.”
“Indeed I am, Mr. Armstrong. It’s a great deal of fun.”
“I can think of something even more fun.” He ran his hands along her side and tried to inch up her gown. “However, if you don’t take this shroud with its endless yards of fabric off right now I shall have to rip it off.”
“Harry!” She didn’t know if she should be appalled or thrilled. Or a little of both. She grinned. “Would you?”
He laughed and between the two of them her nightgown was soon gone without so much as a lost stitch. But with a great deal of laughing and touching and all sorts of things they hadn’t done
earlier today that were quite, quite delightful.
And later, as she drifted off in the arms of the man she loved, she realized there was still one minor point she had yet to clear up. Although really she’d already settled it. He just didn’t know it yet.
The man had lost and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be right there when he realized that or very, very far away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I SWEAR TO YOU, Sidney.” Harry shook his head in disbelief, his gaze fixed on the scene in front of him. One could hardly blame him. “I have ventured into the desert any number of times through the years to seek discoveries that had been buried by endless sands or obscured by time with little more than a guide and a few handlers to manage things. It was not nearly as difficult as maneuvering three old ladies and a disgruntled reporter.”
“Some things are more easily managed than others,” Sidney said under her breath.
They had caught the earliest train to Bedrachin, the closest station to the remains of the ancient city of Memphis. Daniel had grumbled about taking the early train but the ladies insisted it would be so much easier to see everything they wished to see before crowds of tourists descended on the area. From Bedrachin, they would travel the scant half hour to the ruins of Memphis. Well, some of them would.
Their party was met by a representative of Mr. Nazzal’s who had arranged for a guide and camels. Unfortunately, there were only enough camels for Daniel and the ladies. Precisely according to plan. Harry insisted the ladies go on ahead, accompanied by Daniel, of course, and arrangements for additional camels would then be made. He assured the others he and Sidney would catch up with them in no time. They intended to tour the necropolis to the west of Memphis, see the colossal statues of Ramses II then visit the pyramids of Sakkara and Dahshur. It would take all day. The ladies were a bit overly dramatic in their eagerness to begin their exploration of ruins and pyramids and tombs, but Daniel was too busy trying to hide his annoyance at once again having to accompany the older members of their party to notice.
Right now there was a dispute over which lady was to ride which camel as Effie insisted one of them had taken an instant dislike to her, judging by his disdainful expression. It did seem to Sidney they all had disdainful expressions.
“Harry.” Sidney drew her brows together. “You do need to come up with another way to refer to them. Old ladies is not at all endearing. However, if you called them something else they might look upon you quite fondly.”
“I can think of any number of things to call them,” he said mildly.
She ignored him. “You could refer to them as, oh, I don’t know, lady travelers perhaps? That sounds much better and I daresay they would like that.”
“Regardless of what you call them, they’re taking far longer than I would have thought possible.”
“They are, aren’t they?” Sidney was as impatient as Harry to be on their way. “Apparently, their experience at the pyramids taught them what they did and did not like in a camel.”
It took another quarter of an hour but at last the ladies—in their pith helmets and smoked glasses—and the rest of the entourage was ready, and Sidney waved farewell to her friends. Their job was simply to keep Daniel occupied but Sidney wanted them out of the way as well. If she hadn’t had a specific role for them to play, she was certain at least one of them would have insisted on accompanying Sidney and Harry to find the cave. As much as she loved them dearly, she had no desire to be accompanied into the desert by elderly travelers. It took another quarter of an hour after the ladies had safely disappeared from sight for Mr. Nazzal’s man to return with horses, provisions, tools and sleeping bags all tied to their saddles. They did not intend to need the sleeping bags but one never knew.
“Harry, would you mind standing on the other side of the horses for a minute,” Sidney said, glancing around the area. This looked like an opportune time. “And make sure they don’t move.”
“All right. Why?” Harry said but did as she asked nonetheless.
“I’m changing my clothes.”
“Here?”
“It’s as good a place as any.” She unfastened her skirt and removed it, then unbuttoned her jacket and the top of her blouse, just enough to be comfortable. She never would have considered such a thing at home but here, well here everything was different, as was she. Besides, if one was going to get on a horse for the first time—especially one with a man’s saddle instead of a sidesaddle—one shouldn’t need to worry about one’s clothes. She’d considered removing her corset as well but discarded the idea as both improper and impractical.
“I’m finished.” Sidney folded her skirt, circled around the horses and held it out to Harry. “Can you secure this somewhere?”
Harry’s eyes widened. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you wearing?”
“These are riding trousers, Harry. I had them on under my skirt. They’re quite progressive.” Sidney looked down at the garment she’d bought before they left England. She’d never worn anything so daring and was rather proud of herself for having the courage to do so now. Besides, she liked them and they were certainly comfortable. “Do you like them?”
“They’re a far cry from proper attire, aren’t they?”
“Well, yes I suppose—”
“I do like them. I’m just not sure I like you wearing them. They’re entirely too risqué.”
And wasn’t that delightful. “Why, thank you, Harry.”
He shook his head and stuffed her skirt in one of the leather saddlebags. “We should be off. We have at least an hour’s ride before we’re even in the right area.”
“Excellent.” She forced a smile then turned and started up the mounting blocks, assisted by Nazzal’s man. She’d never realized just how big horses really were. This was it, then. She swung her leg over the saddle and managed to find her seat, noting a slight twinge of soreness between her legs. A flush of heat washed up her face and she ignored it. There were far more important matters to worry about at the moment.
It was one thing to pretend one was entirely comfortable in the saddle when one was in the saddle on a donkey, only a few feet from the ground, and something else entirely to be in a saddle on a horse, miles above the earth.
Harry pulled his horse up beside hers. “We’ll be traveling to the southwest. I’m ready if you are.”
She adopted a confident smile. “More than ready.”
He nodded and started off in the direction indicated.
How difficult could this be anyway? She had mastered the donkey. Well, with the help of a donkey boy. Sidney nudged her horse with her knees and he started moving forward. Why, what an excellent beast. She patted his neck. A few steps later, he stopped. She nudged him again. Again he walked for a minute then stopped. She tried again. And again. And again.
“You realize you’re going the wrong way.”
Sidney started at the sound of Harry’s voice, the unexpected jerk apparently telling her horse it was time to do a bit of a terrifying hopping step with her on his back. Harry caught her reins before she could shriek in terror. Not that she would, of course.
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know how to ride, do you?”
“It’s simply been a long time since I’ve ridden and I daresay...” She caught the look in his eyes and thought it best not to say anything more.
“Sidney?” A firm note sounded in his voice. “Now is not the time for evasion or prevarication or any of those clever elusive answers you are so good at.” His gaze pinned hers. “Do you or do you not know how to ride?”
“A horse?” She grimaced. “Not exactly.”
His brow rose.
“Well, I’ve written about riding.” She smiled weakly.
“I see.” He thought for a moment. Wasn’t he going to say this was yet more proof that she was a fraud? After all, Millicent Forester was freq
uently on a horse. Or a camel. Hopefully, when one had had intimate relations with someone who had more or less declared his love, that someone no longer wished to ruin the other person. And wasn’t that a lovely thought. “We don’t have time now to teach you even the most basic bits of instruction but I will try to advise you as we go along. For now, I’ll hold your reins and lead your horse.”
“What am I supposed to hold on to?” The slightest hint of panic sounded in her voice.
“Anything you can, I’d say.” He grinned and urged his horse forward.
At the first tug of the reins her horse obediently followed. She leaned forward and hooked her fingers under the front edge of the Egyptian saddle. This was going to grow uncomfortable quickly. Obviously it was in her best interests to observe how Harry handled his horse and to learn as fast as possible.
An hour into their journey, they reached an area of caves marked on the map and Sidney was managing the reins on her own. There was still a dispute with her horse over who was in charge but they had come to a sort of truce which allowed Sidney to relax enough to study their surroundings. She’d never experienced any place so vast before. Endless and forever and nearly empty. Now and again they would see a horseman or camels in the far distance but for all intents and purposes they were completely alone. For a woman raised in the city, it was a bit disquieting but Millicent handled it and so would Sidney. Besides, she had Harry by her side. Harry, who was completely at ease as if this was nothing more than a ride in Hyde Park. Her heart fluttered. He really was something of a heroic figure.
Somehow, she had expected the relatively flat nature of the landscape near Bedrachin to continue. But now she found herself surrounded by hills and ridges, plateaus and limestone cliffs riddled with caves and rocky ledges. And sand everywhere. Fortunately, the day was pleasant enough and not overly hot. Still, she was glad for the slight shade afforded her by her pith helmet and the relief her smoked glasses offered her eyes. As much as Mr. Bishara’s map had given her confidence she wondered if perhaps it was not entirely warranted. How on earth would they find one specific cave—even one that resembled a camel—in an endless world of rocks and caves and sand?
Lady Travelers Guide to Deception with an Unlikely Earl Page 28