Coming out with both barrels blazing, Marvel?
She had been very good company on the trip down to Luxor. While she rarely left him to his own devices, preferring to stay with him nearly every minute of the trip, she knew when to talk and when to let him brood. He thought only Ella knew how to do that.
He was surprised to realize that in the five days he had known her, Marvel Newton had completely transformed her body. The extra ten pounds which had prompted him to initially label her as plump were gone. He hoped he wasn’t the reason she had found the willpower to shed the weight. He had to admit, she looked extremely tasty. In less than a week—while he hadn’t been looking—she had gone from looking almost matronly to sexy-as-hell. What with her vamping the new braless look this morning, he kind of figured she knew it too.
“Yep,” he said, titling the brim of the safari hat he’d picked up in Cairo back on his head. “I’m ready for dry land again, I have to say.”
“Oh, you don’t need to be coy with me, Rowan,” Marvel said, looping her arm in his. “I know your excitement has less to do with being a landlubber again and more to do with locating your runaway wife.”
Now why do you supposed she kept referring to Ella that way? Rowan shook his head ruefully and moved her so that they were both facing the western bank of the Nile.
“You already know me so well, Marvel,” he said. “Captain Aapep said this time tomorrow we’ll dock. There will be horses to rent when we land.”
“Do you ride?”
He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
“Well, cowboy, they won’t be Western saddles if that’s what you’re thinking and English saddles actually require a modicum of skill in order not to fall off.”
Rowan grinned at her. “You’ll be coming with me, I presume?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Then you can give me all the necessary tips as we go.”
She squeezed his arm and stared out over the river. “Count on it, sugar,” she said.
As Rowan redirected his gaze to the constantly changing banks that hugged the river, he thought he could understand why Ella hadn’t raced back to Alabama. If she had seen what he was seeing right now, he had to admit, he probably couldn’t blame her at all.
Howard Carter’s Camp, Valley of the Kings 1922
Ella sat in a camp chair by the central fire. She had finally coaxed Julia to join her. The fact that Spenser and two of his men squatted or sat with them didn’t seem to make Julia feel better. She clearly viewed Spenser—and the eyeful she’d given him—as not much better than Digby on her list of Those Men I Would Like to See Vanish from the Face of the Earth. Dinner had been another nonevent as the two women had eaten in Ella’s tent. Ella had only been able to convince Julia to temporarily rejoin the living by informing her that Digby was doing cigars and brandy in Carter’s tent and expected to be gone for the evening.
She wasn’t completely sure why she had bothered. Julia sat bundled up against the chill in a fur coat and two blankets and kept looking over her shoulder as if she expected Gunga Din to invade the circle at any moment. Spenser, never a talker at the best of times, was morosely silent, staring into the fire. At this time of evening, Ella found herself thinking of Rowan the most.
Ella missed him so much. She was even starting to miss Dothan. Scratch that. She just missed Rowan so much she would put up with Dothan. She realized that there appeared to be a piece of her that was missing when she didn’t have Rowan by her side. As wonderful and exciting as this place had felt—this adventure extravaganza out in the middle of the Egyptian desert—the thrill of it had taken a serious hit somewhere between William’s murder and the steadily growing, nearly physical longing for Rowan.
The fact was, Ella was ready to go home.
She and Julia had argued earlier that day when Ella suggested they return to Cairo. Julia, amazingly, said she wasn’t ready.
“What possible reason could you have for staying, Julia?”
“This is my expedition, Ella. I paid for it.”
“It feels like it’s your husband’s expedition. He’s the one in control. You’re hiding in a tent.”
“It was my idea.”
“And now it’s all gone bad. You see that, right? Whatever you thought it would be is not how it is.”
“If I leave, I’ll be letting him chase me away.”
“Sometimes there are good reasons to run.”
“Except I’m still married to him.”
Ella held out her hands in frustration. “Well?” she said. “Annul it? Please?”
Julia looked away.
“Look, Julia, you’re afraid of him. You won’t even leave the tent. Why in God’s name would you insist on staying?”
Julia covered her face with her hands and Ella could see her shoulders shaking.
“Because I’m even more afraid of my father,” she said through her tears.
“God almighty,” Ella muttered. “Are you serious? Does every man in your life make you jump through flaming hoops?”
Julia wiped her face and looked at Ella. “I often don’t understand you,” she said.
Ella handed her in handkerchief. “I know,” she said wearily.
And then there was the other thing.
As Ella stared into the fire, she thought about her discovery from that morning. She was determined that she would say nothing, especially if, upon further research, it turned out to be nothing. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew it was true and once she started down that road, she couldn’t ignore it or push it to the back of her mind anymore. She had probably known, at least on some level, for at least a good week but had called it something else or explained it away in light of all her other new experiences—the different food, the fresh air and exercise which, frankly, she wasn’t used to.
She picked up a twig and tossed it into the fire and then watched as one of the camp dogs nosed it back out and began to gnaw on it. She glanced at Julia who was still looking fearfully over her shoulder and Ella felt her mouth shut in a firm line of determination. They had to leave soon. It was one thing to be running around having adventures and soaking up history and what not but she needed to get back to Cairo and back to her own time and back to Rowan.
Like now.
Ella looked into the fire as it spit and jumped. The fact was, she was almost absolutely positive that she was more than a little bit pregnant.
Chapter Thirteen
Later, Ella would have plenty of time to reflect on the old adage about a journey of a thousand steps beginning with a single step. For her, it would begin with taking a shortcut back from the bathing tent in an attempt to avoid the one person she knew she was going to have to confront sooner or later anyway.
She and Julia took their bath one night after dinner, escorted by a lackluster guard who spoke no English. Afterwards, as they hurried down the path to return to their tent, Digby stepped out of the bushes and blocked their way. Julia’s scream brought the two Egyptian guards bolting from the interior of the camp where they had been loitering.
“Really, you are making this much more than it is, my dear,” Digby said to her.
Ella could see his eyes rake his wife’s body while a sneer played on his lips. She felt Julia trembling beside her, but she was obviously trying to face her husband instead of cowering behind Ella.
“You are a pig,” Julia said, breathlessly, her voice shaking but her fists clenched at her sides as if she might use them. “Miss Stevens and I will be leaving at first light.”
Although happy to hear that Julia had changed her mind about leaving, Ella wasn’t thrilled to be hearing it for the first time along with Digby. It didn’t do to give some people advance warning.
“That is not possible,” Digby said easily. Ella watched Abdullah materialize from the shadows and stand behind him. While Abdullaha’s arms hung limply at his sides, his very presence was threat enough. “I have spoken with Carter and we will be extending our stay
.”
“You haven’t spoken to him,” Ella said. “You’re lying.”
Digby turned his attention to her as if just seeing her.
“The luscious Miss Stevens,” he said slowly, a smile creeping across his face. “It appears we will have the pleasure of your company a little longer.” He looked back at Julia and his face hardened. “We will stay until Lord Carnarvon arrives,” he said.
“That’s…that’s a month from now!” Julia said. “I am ready to go now!”
“And that, my dear, is of no consequence to me.” Digby leaned in toward Julia but whatever he had intended to do or say was thwarted by the sounds of Josh Spenser coming down the path towards them. Without another word, Digby turned on his heel and disappeared into the bush as silently as he had come.
Ella grabbed Julia’s hand to give her strength. “Now we have to go, Julia,” she said as she pulled her toward their tent. “He’s capable of devising any kind of ruse to force you to stay. We’ve got to go now. Tonight.” Ella tried to tamp down her growing panic that Digby could somehow prevent her from returning as soon as possible to Cairo—and Rowan.
Three hours later, after riding silently in the dark with only the waning moon to light their way, Julia—who had been so badly shaken by their encounter with Digby that she had allowed Ella to pack her up and lead her—began to show signs of getting some of her old spirit back. “Did you even think to bring food?” she asked querulously.
“Well, since the river is only a two hour ride from camp, and the boats are all fully furnished with cooks and kitchens, I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“Not even water?”
Ella had to admit that not bringing water had been a serious oversight. “Let’s get up higher,” she said. “Maybe we’ll be able to see something. We should have reached the river by now.”
“Are you saying we’re lost? I never would have done this ridiculous escape if I thought you didn’t know where you were going.”
“Why would I know where we were going, Julia?” Ella responded hotly. “I have not been in this godforsaken desert five minutes longer than you have. What possible reason would you have for thinking I knew where we were going?”
“We can’t get lost in the desert, Ella!” Julia wailed. “People die in deserts!”
“Okay, just calm down. Nobody’s going to die.” Ella squeezed her horse with her legs to prompt him up a nearby hill. “Let’s get up here and see where we are. Come on.”
Ella drove her horse up the steep hill, sending a wake of large clods of crumbling rock behind her. She prayed the crest would reveal the sight she so desperately longed to see.
Surely, the damn river was right over this hill?
When she reached the top, she felt the new day’s sun strike her full in the face. She shaded her eyes and strained to see the serpentine shape of the Nile.
Julia called to her from the base of the hill. “Well? Do you see it? Do you see the river?”
Damn it! Ella felt her shoulders sag with the stupidity and deadly failure of this enterprise. Ahead was an endless vista of desert and undulating sands unbroken by the river that she so longed to see. How had they gotten so turned around? They must have headed away from the river. They had ridden three hours full west. How could she be so stupid? The sun had been rising steadily behind them as they rode and it hadn’t even occurred to her to think that that wasn’t right?
“No,” she admitted. “We have to turn around. We’re going further into the desert this way.”
Julia stopped climbing before she reached Ella. “So we are lost?”
“No. We’re just turned around. Now that I know where the river isn’t, I’m pretty sure I know where it must be.”
“The way we just came from.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I’m really thirsty, Ella.”
Ella looked at her. In the whole time she had known Julia, she had never seen her flushed or with a hair or button out of place. Even with her huge hat on against the sun, Julia was looking decidedly wilted.
“There will be water to drink on the boat,” Ella said, trying to sound encouraging.
“Three hours the other way.”
Actually, it was more like five hours when you counted the additional time to get to the river, but Ella didn’t mention that. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “Talking about it won’t make it less. Let’s go.”
“Was this a mistake?” Julia asked suddenly. “Should we have stayed after all?”
“I couldn’t stay,” Ella said firmly as she rode down the hill. Without thinking, her hand dropped for the briefest of moments to touch her abdomen.
She had to get back.
The facts were clear and unassailable. As pleasant and determined to be helpful as the people at Carter’s camp were, they were knee deep in a very big—monumentally big—historic enterprise. And the uncomfortable shenanigans of a misbehaving British Viscount and his wife, not to mention their equally troublesome American traveling companion, was just one big pain in the excavation site. Carter had made it clear to Spenser in no uncertain terms that, Lord Carnarvon’s friends or not, the Digbys had worn out their welcome and needed to be encouraged to move on down the road. “Lord Bingham has a smashing good hole dug on the other side of the Valley. Why not encourage them to go see what he’s up to?”
Spenser had already broken the bastard’s nose and was only too happy to be the bearer of get-up-and-get-gone news if it meant he could stop babysitting and get back to running the camp. Unfortunately, it seemed the limey bastard’s evening with Carter, his fellow countryman, had bought him a reprieve—at least as long as he was willing to see the back of his wife and her friend. Digby had agreed to escort the women back to Cairo (let them be the boat captain’s problem for awhile) before rejoining the dig at the end of the month when Carnarvon was expected to be in the country.
Spenser didn’t care. He just wanted them gone. Without the women to distract him, he didn’t expect any more trouble from Digby. Which is why it was all so annoying to stand in front of Digby’s tent—to actually be shown into his tent by that ape Abdullah—and be informed that the women (goddamn them!) had taken two of the horses in the middle of the night and decamped.
“Where did they go?” he asked with a stunned expression on his face.
Digby shrugged. “I have no earthly idea,” he said. “Women.”
“Are they going to the river? Do you think they intend to get on a boat bound for Cairo? Are they trying to get back to the city?”
“My good man,” Digby said patiently. “I am not a confidant of either one of the ladies in question. I had no hint that they were planning to leave abruptly in the middle of the night.”
“How do you know they went on their own steam?”
“Beg pardon?”
Spenser slapped his pith helmet against his leg. “Were they taken, man?” he said impatiently.
“As in stolen away? I hardly think so. Abdullah saw both of them untie the horses and lead them on foot from the camp.”
Spenser looked at the tall implacable Egyptian. “And he did nothing to stop them?”
“Surely you are not suggesting he lay hands on a white woman? Even an American? That would not be his place, sir.”
“Would it be his place to inform someone of what he saw?”
“That was perhaps a lapse in judgment on Abdullah’s behalf, I agree,” Digby said, eyeing the Egyptian as if trying to decide.
Spenser turned on his heel in disgust. “Mount up,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Get mounted, man!” Spenser shouted. “There’s a lot that can happen between here and the river assuming that’s the direction they went in. We need to go now!” As he left the tent, Spenser ran into a small Egyptian boy who had come running down the hill to the tent, his robes flapping in the dusty, constant breeze.
“Effendi Spenser!” he yelled. “Effendi!”
Spenser grabbed the boy and fo
rced him to stand still. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Men come, effendi!”
“From the village?” Spenser asked, shielding his eyes to look in the direction the boy was pointing.
“No, effendi. From the river.”
As Spenser stood looking, his hands on his hips, he saw a group on horseback growing larger as they approached. A woman with thick dark red curls bounced along on a horse in front of the group, her large bosom seeming to keep time with the rocking chair cadence of her mount. There were at least six people in her group, all of them mounted. At one point, he thought he heard singing.
Good God, now what? he thought with resignation.
Rowan tried to digest the information over the deafening roar of his disappointment.
He had missed her by a few hours.
He stood in Ella’s tent trying to get any feel at all that she had been here. He saw no personal effects that reminded him of her. The dresses looked like they belonged in a museum, even the scent in the tent was obliterated by a musk that hung in the air like an unseen fog. He picked up the silk slippers from under the bed and held them in his hands.
To be so close!
He left the tent and walked to the center of the camp where the rest of his group stood. He could see Marvel with her hands on her hips confronting the head foreman. He knew how stubborn she could be when she wanted something but a quick look at Spenser’s face made it pretty clear he was at the end of his patience. Rowan didn’t know what had happened in the camp to make Ella leave in the middle of the night. His glance fell on the reedy, unctuous looking Englishman they called Digby. But he would damn sure find out.
“We have just arrived!” Marvel said, following Spenser as he attempted to circumvent her in order to approach Rowan. Whether he detected a vein of common sense in Rowan or was just drawn to another American male, Spenser had quickly looked to Rowan in the midst of the growing contretemps.
“You must all leave and go back where you came from,” Spenser growled in frustration. “Pierce? We’ve got a situation on our hands here.”
Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) Page 13