“I’ve been shot!” His eyes were wide, and he stared at Valentine, mouth hanging open.
She peered into the darkness of the building and then reached down, pulling Chauncey away from the door. “Hold the wound tightly, try to stem the bleeding, Chauncey. I will get help!”
An arm snaked around her throat, then, and she felt cold metal pressed against her temple. She closed her eyes, unable to believe the turn of events. “Dr. Henry,” she managed and pulled on the arm that tightened like a vice around her neck, “surely you wouldn’t harm a bride on her honeymoon.”
“Shut up!” He pressed the gun harder, and Valentine winced in pain. Her eyes filled with unwanted tears of fury and fear.
Shouts sounded at the end of the alley, and her heart beat faster with equal parts hope and terror. Max ran toward them, and Henry pulled Valentine into the center of the alley, choking tightly. She held a hand out to Max, palm up.
Please stay back, she willed him, I cannot watch you die. Not again.
“Henry,” Max lifted his hands up, “let her go. I will do whatever you want.”
“Shut up!” Henry screamed. “You have ruined my life for the last time, Maxwell! I will take what is mine and leave, and if you lift a finger out of line, I will kill your brand new bride.”
Three other men rounded the corner, two in long linen sheaths common for Egyptian men. They were carrying torches. The third was Alfred, who tore down the alley and was nearly upon them before he fully comprehended the state of events. He skidded to a stop when Henry pointed the gun at him and then shoved it roughly back against Valentine’s head.
“Henry, let her go,” Max repeated, as Alfred gasped and grabbed one of the torches from the Egyptian authority, who was speaking in rapid Arabic to Henry.
“You’ve shot Chauncey!” Alfred held the torch high and moved forward.
“Stay back!” Henry screamed again, and Valentine felt the man’s entire body tremble. He squeezed her neck again, and she struggled to breathe. Before long, black spots began dancing before her eyes.
Please, please. I shall do good works and read two verses of scripture daily! See us safely out of danger . . . please . . .
Chauncey moaned, his face pale, and he clutched his thigh.
Max glanced at the doorway, and his eyes narrowed. Snatching the torch from Alfred, he raised it high. “This is where you keep your stolen goods.”
“Turn around, Maxwell.” Henry pulled the hammer back on his pistol.
Max eyed the man evenly. “Slowly set the gun down on the ground, or I will toss the torch inside.”
Henry’s breath expelled in a whoosh.
“You know I am a man of my word. If you live to fight another day, there’s always a chance you can return and continue your . . . business. You have well-placed contacts in Britain, guaranteed buyers for your stock, here. But if I burn it all . . .”
Valentine felt the world slow again, as it had during the wedding ceremony. She saw only Max, and hoped desperately that he knew she loved him.
Henry shook violently, and slowly placed the hammer back. He lifted the pistol away from her head and set it on the ground. Valentine kicked it away, and it skittered across the rutted path, coming to rest at Max’s boot. He quickly retrieved it, and the two officials ran toward Henry, who cursed and shoved her at them.
Max grabbed her away from the chaos, and Valentine took deep breaths, clutching his jacket lapels. As she looked on, heart pounding so violently she thought it might explode out of her chest, the officials subdued Henry and began marching him down the alley. They shouted to others who were gathering, and gestured back to Chauncey, who still lay on the ground.
“Chauncey,” Valentine gasped. She pulled on Max, who seemed bent on examining her temple and making sure she wasn’t injured. “He’s been shot!”
Alfred knelt at his friend’s side. “Mmm, perhaps just grazed.” He ripped a large opening along Chauncey’s seam to reveal a long scratch, but no apparent entry wound and no profuse bleeding.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Valentine breathed and sank down next to the young man. “You saved my life, Chauncey. You ran to the doorway first—if I had been there, perhaps the bullet would have hit me differently.” She felt her eyes cloud again and reached forward, embracing him. She kissed his cheek, and he blushed scarlet, clear even in the evening light.
“It was the least I could do to atone for the chaos I’ve caused you both. I would gladly take a bullet for you again.”
Alfred scratched his temple. “Didn’t really take a bullet, though, did you? I mean, it’s brave and all, Chaunce, but—”
“I did take a bullet, Alfred! Look at my leg, man!”
Max sighed and pulled Valentine to her feet. He gestured toward Alfred with a jerk of his head and said, “Get him on his feet. He can be bandaged at the hotel.”
Valentine wrapped both her arms around Max and hugged him tightly as they made their way out of the alley. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises that became clear in the brighter light of the busier street. She gasped, pulling him to a stop, “Max!” She put her palm on his cheek, and he gave her a half smile and tapped the end of her nose.
“This is nothing, my love.” He urged her forward with an arm tight about her shoulders.
“Oh! And what of Colin?”
Max grinned. “That one has potential, I must admit. Got in a few good licks of his own before he hit the street.”
Valentine saw Colin sitting up next to one of Henry’s hired goons, who was still unconscious, and the other who was now restrained by authorities. Arabic flowed everywhere, voices shouting, and she wondered if the area’s residents dealt with that much chaos on a regular basis.
As they approached the majestic front of the hotel and climbed the steps, Valentine put an arm around her husband’s waist and laid her head against him. “I’ve made a decision, dearest.”
“Oh?” She heard his response rumble in his chest. “And what is it?”
“I should like to remain in our room all day tomorrow. Including supper.”
His laugh echoed off of the covered portico and into the night as they passed through the tall Sphinx replicas that flanked the entry.
Dearest Eva;
You will likely have heard, by now, from Contessa that the strangest things have occurred on this adventure of mine. I married Mr. Maxwell, but the details are much better described in person, so I shall share them with you when we return with Contessa in one month. Max is anxious to return to England—his business is in capable hands with his solicitor and steward— but he prefers to have a hand in all dealings regarding the boxing salons.
Eva, I am happy. I wanted an adventure, and I found one. We leave tomorrow for Quincy Maxwell’s dig site, and I am anticipating it with such excitement. Max is so proud of his brother and has shared stories with me. I can hardly wait to meet him and observe as he works his magic with these ancient treasures. Contessa says Quincy prefers to uncover potsherds over traditional gems and riches, if you can imagine! Max says he feels they tell the true story of the humans who lived and worked and used the pieces. Contessa’s anticipation and excitement are contagious, and I am so glad to be here!
Dr. Quincy mentioned in a telegram that his sketch artist has gone missing—it happens frequently enough, I understand, and good help is often hard to secure, but Contessa viewed a sketchbook I’ve been playing in, and she seems to think I may be a good, if temporary, substitute for the errant sketch artist.
Eva, I am so blessed, and to think I would never have met Max, Contessa, or any of the wonderful people I now know if not for you. Three young men in particular have become endearing to both Max and me. They brought us together, and when the situation was crucial, destruction eminent, they rose to the occasion. Mr. Chauncey Payne in particular, is proud that he “took a bullet” for me, and although the details are debatable, the fact is that he and his friends have proven to be true friends indeed. Max has even agreed to spar with Mr. Payne
when that one is fully recovered from his battle wound.
I look forward to seeing you again, and cannot wait to share everything with you. Enclosed I’m sending a postcard from Shepheard’s and a few sketches of the hotel with the beauty of Cairo surrounding it. My senses are overwhelmed, and I quite adore it in all of its loud messiness. I am finding many opportunities for kind deeds, and I have even begun reading two verses of holy scripture daily. When one begs for favors, one must then honor one’s promises. But again, I shall share all with you in person.
I love you dearly, cousin, and cannot wait to see you. Until then,
From Cairo, with love,
Valentine Baker Maxwell
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Thank you for reading From Cairo, With Love by Nancy Campbell Allen. Each Timeless Romance Single contains a sweet romance novella. Sign up for our Timeless Anthology newsletter and receive a free book! Your email will not be shared and you may unsubscribe at any time. We always appreciate reviews but there is no obligation. Reviews and word-of-mouth are what helps us continue this fun project.
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Other Works by Nancy Campbell Allen:
Nancy Campbell Allen (N.C. Allen) is the author of 11 published novels, which encompass a variety of genres from contemporary romantic suspense to historical fiction. Her Civil War series, Faith of our Fathers, won the Utah Best of State award in 2005 and all three of her historicals featuring Isabelle Webb, Pinkerton spy, have been nominated for the Whitney Award. Her formal schooling includes a B.S. in Elementary Education from Weber State University and she has worked as a freelance editor, contributing to the recent release, We Knew Howard Hughes, by Jim Whetton.
Nancy served as the Teen Writers Conference chair in 2011 and 2012, and has presented at numerous conferences and events since her initial publication in 1999 with Covenant Communications. Her agent is Pam Van Hylckama Vlieg of Foreword Literary, and she is currently writing a series of Gothic Steampunk novels and other short novellas. Nancy loves to read, write, travel and research, and enjoys spending time laughing with family and friends. She and her husband have three children, and she lives in Ogden, Utah with her family and one very large Siberian Husky named Thor.
Visit Nancy’s blog: NCAllen.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @necallen
Check out our Timeless Regency Collections:
Don’t miss our Timeless Romance Anthologies:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Other Works by Nancy Campbell Allen:
About Nancy Campbell Allen
From Cairo, With Love (Timeless Romance Single Book 1) Page 11