“I’m terrified!” she wailed. “He’s going to leave us here to die! With the lizards and the vermin and the snakes!”
“We won’t die,” Harry said confidently. Even if Corbin didn’t send someone back for them, Nazzal had copied the map. They’d be fine for a few days. Still, he’d rather avoid that and get Sidney out of here now. What he needed was a distraction. Something that might allow him to grab Corbin’s gun.
“Just the thought of snakes! Snakes, Harry, snakes!” Her gaze met his, the look in her eyes determinedly fearless. “My head is spinning... I...” She crossed both hands over the pectoral on her chest in a pose vaguely reminiscent of Hamlet’s Ophelia, her eyes fluttered shut and she sank gracefully to the ground in a dead faint. Or what looked like a faint. At once it struck him that this was deliberate on her part—in which case the woman really was mad or brilliant. Of course, if she had truly swooned he could either go to her assistance or tackle Corbin. One or the other.
Bloody hell, she’d be fine on the ground. This was about her life. It took no more than a handful of seconds or an eternity. At the same time he lunged at Corbin, Sidney snapped her wrist, flinging the spinning pectoral and a fair amount of sand toward the reporter. The artifact missed, but Corbin screamed and covered his eyes as Harry hit him around the knees and knocked them both to the ground, the gun flying out of his hand. Sidney scrambled after it. Corbin was too busy wailing about his eyes to struggle. Rather a shame really. Harry wouldn’t at all mind planting one in the reporter’s face. Harry got to his feet.
“That worked out nicely.” Sidney aimed the gun at the reporter. “But I thought I’d hit him with the pectoral. I never expected the sand would do him in.”
“It had a better chance than your throw.” Harry grabbed Corbin and pulled him to his feet.
“Nonetheless, it worked.” She waved at the cave opening with the pistol. It did not inspire confidence. “The water bag is by the entrance. You should probably get it for him.” She paused. “You can let him go now, I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”
“I’m blind!” Corbin cried.
Harry released him. “There can’t be much in his eyes. Most of it went in my ear.”
“There needn’t be much.” In her riding pants, with her blond hair escaping from her pith helmet, her cheeks flushed and holding a revolver, she looked damned near invincible. Now, that was what he wanted in a wife. The woman really was Millicent Forester. At this point, in one of Sidney’s stories, that annoying Richard Weatherly would sweep her into his arms and kiss her thoroughly. Weatherly might have had a good point. Still, even Weatherly had never been faced with a furious Sidney Honeywell before. Caution was perhaps the best tact at the moment.
Harry fetched the water then helped Corbin slosh some in his eyes. “What? No thanks?”
“You have my undying gratitude,” Corbin muttered and splashed more water in his eyes.
“That was quite clever, but I think I’ll take that.” Harry took the pistol from Sidney. “How did you think of it?”
She shrugged. “I did something similar in one of my stories.”
“Once I realized what you were doing—”
“Yes, yes, we worked together nicely.” She waved off his comment. “Don’t think because we cooperated now, it was anything other than a matter of life and death.”
“I would never think such a thing,” he assured her even if he had hoped.
“I have neither forgiven nor forgotten anything. I am still extremely angry. My lord!”
He nodded. “I can understand that. But I did intend to tell you everything.”
“When?”
“As soon as we returned to Cairo. I think I mentioned that earlier today.”
“I don’t recall.” She picked up the pectoral where it had landed. “Regardless, I have a great deal of thinking to do and decisions to make. And I have no desire to talk to you about any of this at the moment.”
“Also understandable.” Harry nodded then paused. “You should know, as you’re thinking, I’ve felt very bad about this whole thing almost since the beginning.”
“Guilt will do that to you.” She met his gaze firmly. “Quite frankly, Harry, I don’t know how I feel. But I do know I want to go back now. I want the comfort of the hotel, I want a long bath and I don’t want to see you.” She turned and stalked out of the cave.
Corbin dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. “You’re not very good with women, are you?”
“I wouldn’t make any comments if I were you. I have the gun now.”
Corbin shrugged. “It’s not loaded.”
Harry flipped open the revolver and spun the chamber. “You didn’t load the gun?”
“It didn’t strike me as a particularly good idea.”
“But you fought me for it.”
“You didn’t know it wasn’t loaded.” Corbin smirked. “It served the same purpose whether it was loaded or not. I really had no desire to shoot you accidentally, even though I do find you most annoying. As it is, there’s no harm done.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Do you now intend to expose Sidney?”
“Oh, that, well...” Corbin considered him thoughtfully. “Perhaps there’s another deal to be made here.”
Sidney strode back into the cave and glared at Corbin. “What did you do?”
“What did I do?” Corbin waved the handkerchief at Harry. “He’s the one you’re angry with. And with good reason too I might add.”
She had been livid when she left the cave. Now livid would have been an improvement. Harry took a step back.
Sidney ignored him, advancing on Corbin like an avenging goddess of death. “What did you do with the horses?”
“Nothing. I retied their reins so it would be faster to let them go when I was ready.” Horrid realization crossed Corbin’s face and he grimaced. “I might have tied them a little too loosely.”
“They’ll be halfway home by now.” Harry stared at Corbin. “What were you thinking?”
“I had a plan.” Corbin huffed then brightened. “We still have my horse.”
Harry shook his head. “One horse won’t do.”
Sidney’s jaw clenched. “Was he with the others?”
“He was,” Corbin said slowly.
“He’s gone now. They’re all gone. Along with everything we brought with us.”
Corbin winced. “This is awkward.”
“Awkward?” Sidney’s voice rose. “It’s more than merely awkward.” She nodded in Harry’s direction. “Shoot him, Harry.”
“As tempting as that is, I can’t.”
“I knew you couldn’t.” She sighed in resignation. “You really are horribly noble.”
“And there are no bullets.” Harry shook his head. “The gun wasn’t loaded.”
Corbin offered a weak smile.
Sidney leveled a disgusted look at the reporter. “You are an idiot. If you learned nothing else from reading my stories you certainly should have understood that if you were going to be a villain, be a good one. No bullets, indeed.” She turned her attention to Harry. “As for you, my lord, I hope you have some sort of brilliant idea.”
“Not yet. And you needn’t keep saying my lord,” Harry said in a hard tone. “I assure you, Sidney, I will think of something.”
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t written those blasted letters. All because that arrogant male pride of yours was wounded.”
“It wasn’t pride.” He paused. “Well, not entirely. Yes, I did find it annoying that work I thought was frivolous and inaccurate—”
“Good God, and she thinks I’m an idiot,” Corbin muttered.
“—but enjoyable nonetheless, was so highly regarded and mine was—”
“Dreadful?”
“Yes, dreadful.” He shook his head. “But it wasn’t
for me.”
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s that noble nature of yours. You didn’t want your friend to be forgotten.” She blew a long breath. “Well, since we’re probably going to meet him in the afterlife soon, you might want to decide how you’re going to explain to him the despicable lengths you went to in the guise of preserving his memory. I didn’t know him, of course, but I imagine anyone worth remembering would point out what an arrogant, sanctimonious beast you’ve been and I daresay your Walter would have been no exception.”
A shadowed figure at the cave entrance chuckled. “Don’t blame me for this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE STRANGER STEPPED into the light. Tall and dressed like a Bedouin, with robes and a traditional kufiya on his head. Even so the man’s English was perfect and he was clearly not Egyptian.
Harry’s face paled, as if he’d seen a ghost. Disbelief sounded in his voice. “Walter?”
Apparently he had seen a ghost.
“You said Walter was dead,” Sidney said under her breath, her gaze firmly fixed on the newcomer. The man looked like he could have walked out of one of her stories—dashing and handsome and adventurous.
“I thought Walter was dead.” Harry stared, frozen in place.
“Who is Walter?” Daniel asked.
The stranger pulled off his kufiya. His blue eyes were vibrant against his deeply tanned skin and his hair was lighter than Harry’s.
“Not anymore.” He grinned. “How are you, Harry old man?”
Harry continued to stare, a myriad of emotions crossing his face.
Sidney nudged him. “You might want to say something at this point.”
Walter chuckled. “I think he’s a bit too stunned to say anything.”
“Well, I’m not.” Sidney stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Miss Sidney Honeywell. It’s a pleasure to see you alive and well, Mr. Pickering.”
“Walter.” He took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to be alive and well. I must say, Harry’s taste in women has certainly—”
“You’re supposed to be dead!” Something suspiciously close to outrage rang in Harry’s voice. “We searched for you. For months. And we mourned for you. We still do. What in the name of all that’s holy happened to you?”
Walter studied his friend for an endless moment. “It’s a long story.”
“It better be a good one,” Harry said sharply.
“I’ll bet it is,” Daniel murmured.
Walter glanced at Sidney. “I thought explanations could wait.”
“They may have already waited too long.” She shook her head. “I think now would be best.”
“Very well.” Walter thought for a moment. “There’s a lot in the beginning that I have only vague memories of. All I really know is that a tribe found me, took me in and saved my life.
“It took a long time to recover. And even longer to get my strength back. It’s only been a few months since I learned that you and Ben thought I was dead.”
“Why didn’t you let us know you were alive?”
“I intended to. I just haven’t had the opportunity.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain but time moves differently here. The days slip away. It’s easy to lose track of them. And I do like the life. For now anyway.”
“Bloody hell, Walter.” Harry had the distinct look of a man who wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch his resurrected friend or hug him. Sidney held her breath. At last, Harry stepped closer, grasped Walter’s shoulders and stared into the other man’s eyes, his voice tight. “I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life. We had given up. I never thought, never imagined...” His voice caught and he paused.
“Neither did I,” Walter said with an odd sort of smile.
Sidney’s eyes fogged and she sniffed back a tear.
Harry grinned. “Damn it all, Walter, it’s good to see you.”
Sidney tried not to grin with satisfaction. She’d suspected all along he had feelings.
“Now.” Walter looked at Sidney. “Can we leave?”
“Yes, I think so.” She was still clutching the pectoral. She hadn’t even noticed. “How did you find us?”
“You can thank Nazzal for that. I’ll explain when we get back to camp.” He looked at Harry. “It’s getting late. You’ll have to spend the night. You can’t get back to Bedrachin before the last train and you can’t get a steamer before morning.”
“I say, if you don’t mind,” Daniel began, “I would much rather go back tonight. Surely some arrangement can be made.”
“We’re staying, Daniel,” Sidney said pleasantly. “If you choose to go back, in the dark, on foot, you shall do so alone. You wanted to leave us out here and I am not inclined to forget such a thing. I’m certain Mr. Pickering agrees with me, don’t you, Mr. Pickering?”
Walter raised an eyebrow at Harry then nodded. “Apparently, I do, Miss Honeywell.”
“And is there any way to get a message to our friends?”
“Possibly,“ Walter said thoughtfully. “I’ll see what can be done.”
“Thank you.” She cast him her brightest smile.
Harry blew a long breath. “We have a lot to talk about. A lot has changed.”
Walter nodded. “For me as well.”
For all that had transpired on this trip, that never would have happened had they not left England—the blame or the fault or the credit would go to Harry. For good or ill, he had started it all. The man had changed her life—all their lives—forever. It was a point worth remembering.
* * *
SIDNEY HADN’T REALIZED how late in the day it was. Walter’s men had found their horses and the sun was sinking in the west by the time they reached the Bedouin encampment—a village of tanned skin tents with families, children, elders. And a lot of sand. Walter was greeted like one of them but, then, he was one of them.
Even in the grandest hotels, Sidney could not imagine such hospitality. They were welcomed, given coffee and a tasty stew of unidentifiable contents. Daniel was confined to a tent. She tried not to feel smug but he deserved it. Sidney wasn’t quite sure what they would do with him yet but the punishment really did need to fit the crime.
“Did Nazzal know about your survival?” Harry asked as they sat around the fire talking late into the night.
“He had heard rumors but wasn’t interested in verifying them until a few days ago.” Walter studied Harry over the fire. “You know Nazzal. Until you came back to Egypt there was nothing in it for him.”
Harry nodded.
“This morning I received a message from him suggesting I watch for you. He even sent directions as to where he thought you would be. When we found your horses, it wasn’t hard to figure out it might be you. We tracked the horses back to the cave.”
“We’re most grateful you did,” Sidney said with a smile.
Walter returned her smile then looked at his old friend. “Did you ever plan on coming back to Egypt?”
“It didn’t seem there was any reason to return and, frankly, no desire. You were, well, dead and Ben and I were, I don’t know, disillusioned I suppose.” Harry thought for a long moment. “But I’m glad I did.”
“If you gentlemen will excuse me.” Sidney scrambled to her feet. It was obvious to her there were things Harry and Walter might wish to discuss privately. “I’m going to retire for the evening.”
Harry got to his feet. “I’ll walk you to your tent.”
Sidney had been given a place to sleep with the other women. Their tent was not far away but Harry steered her out into the desert.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“There’s something I want to show you.” They climbed up a slight rise that sheltered the camp. “Take a look, Sidney. Have you ever seen stars so brilliant in a night so endless?”
“On board ship but
this...” She gazed out at the night sky and her breath caught. Sidney had never been one for star-gazing and between overcast skies, fog and the city lights, the nights in London were not conducive to staring at the heavens. While she knew the position of celestial bodies as seen from Egypt would be different than in England, she did not expect to see the sky so filled with stars that one could almost read by the light. And feel the magic left by the ancients. “This is magnificent, Harry. Thank you,” she said softly.
“I would gladly take credit but I did not arrange the stars.” He paused. “Are you still angry with me?”
“I’m trying very hard to be. It would be much easier if you weren’t being so contrite.”
He grinned. “Then my plan is working.”
She sighed in frustration. “I’m finding it difficult not to feel betrayed. Which might not be fair but there you have it.”
He was silent for a long moment. “The Earl of Brenton wasn’t the man who spent years in Egypt or lost a friend here—that was Harry Armstrong. It seemed only right that I leave the title behind. Besides.” He chuckled. “I didn’t want to intimidate you.”
“That’s...very thoughtful of you.”
“Of course, that’s when I thought you were an old lady.”
“I rescind my thanks.” She bit back a smile, took his arm and he escorted her to her tent.
Harry took her hands and raised them to his lips. “Sleep well, Sidney.”
“Good night, Harry.”
He turned away and started off. At once it struck her how devastated she would be if he walked out of her life forever. “Harry?”
He turned back and before he could say a word, before she could change her mind or consider the foolishness of her actions, she grabbed his jacket and kissed him hard and far longer than she had anticipated. Until his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her closer.
At last she drew away and breathed in a deep breath. “Don’t think that means I have forgiven you anything. I have a great deal of thinking to do.”
He grinned. “I can wait.”
She pushed out of his arms. “Good night, Harry.” She turned, pulled aside the flap and went into the tent. His laughter drifted on the night air behind her.
Lady Travelers Guide to Deception with an Unlikely Earl Page 31