The Christmas Rose

by Dilly Court

  ‘I’m sorry, Bradley. I was wrong to doubt you, but I could hardly sleep for thinking about today. I was imagining all sorts of disasters that might occur.’

  ‘You just have to trust the captain and his men.’ Bradley proffered his arm as they reached the steps that led down to the street, and she accepted without a murmur. He handed her into the waiting landau and climbed in to sit beside her.

  ‘Is there any point in going now?’ Rose asked wearily. ‘If we’d left much earlier we might have been able to see the search party leave the barracks, and we could have followed them – at a safe distance, of course.’

  ‘We’d have been spotted and arrested for spying. This isn’t a game, Miss Rose.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop calling me “Miss Rose”, it makes me feel like an elderly spinster. You and I are friends, aren’t we?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking, but I doubt if Mr and Mrs Sheldon would think that way.’

  Rose shook her head, but she did not argue. There seemed little point, especially when she knew in her heart that he was right. This sort of nicety did not exist in the mining community where she had spent the last nine years, and she was overcome by a wave of homesickness for Bendigo and the family who had given her so much love. Max seemed to have changed out of all recognition and she wished she could turn the clock back to a time when he had meant everything to her. Now she was not so sure.

  ‘Are you listening, Miss Rose?’

  She turned to Bradley, realising that she had barely heard a word of what he had said. ‘I’m sorry. I was miles away.’

  ‘I said that it would be best if I find my mate Stubby again. I’ll ask him if he’s been able to find out anything about the plan of action today.’

  ‘What good would that do? Max and his party will probably be there by now, and who knows what the outcome will be? I really need to know if Eugene is all right.’

  Bradley gave her a searching look. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘He’s a decent man, and I want to get my story cabled back to London before the war correspondents get hold of it.’

  His face split in a wide grin. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Rose said defiantly. She folded her hands tightly in her lap, trying hard to concentrate on anything other than what might happen when Max and his party descended upon the desert camp. The tribesmen were unlikely to give up their captives without a fight.

  Once again, Rose found herself seated in a carriage outside the barracks waiting for Bradley to reappear, although the carriage driver they had hired was less volatile than the one who made such a fuss the previous day. She passed the time by writing the opening lines of her article in which she described the magnificent building, now used as a barracks, but she was finding it almost impossible to concentrate. Having chewed the end of her pencil while she racked her brains to think of something to interest her readers, she looked up and spotted Bradley loping towards the carriage. She leaned over to open the door.

  ‘Well?’ she asked excitedly. ‘What news?’

  He shouted a list of instructions to the driver in Arabic and leaped into the carriage. ‘Hold tight, Miss Rose. We’re on our way.’

  At a crack of the coachman’s whip, the horses lunged forward, but at virtually the same moment the barrack gates opened. A cloud of dust preceded the thundering hoofs of cavalry mounts ridden by soldiers in scarlet tunics, the sun glinting off their brass helmets. Rose had to hold on with all her might as the open carriage rocked like a small ship on a rough sea. Her notepad and pencil fell to the floor along with her reticule, and her straw bonnet flew off and was left hanging by its satin ribbons.

  There was little hope of the rickety landau, drawn by two underfed and overworked animals, being able to keep up with the expert horsemen and their thoroughbred horses, but the driver seemed to be caught up in the general excitement, and he rose to his feet, encouraging his team to go faster. Rose was both exhilarated and terrified. The carriage seemed in danger of being overturned as they rounded a bend in the road, but by some miracle it took the corner on two wheels and then righted itself. All that could be seen of the cavalry was a cloud of dust on the horizon, and the coachman reined in the sweating horses. He turned to Bradley, shouting something in Arabic, and Bradley answered him.

  ‘What did he say?’ Rose asked urgently. ‘Why have we slowed down?’

  ‘He said he can go no further and I agreed with him. The wheels would sink into the sand and we wouldn’t get far. Better to wait here and pretend to be sightseeing. They’ll have to come back this way.’

  ‘But they could be gone for hours,’ Rose said warily.

  ‘It’s up to you. If we pay him enough he’ll be happy to remain here. There’s an inn of sorts, and shade amongst the palm trees. Are you prepared to wait?’

  ‘Yes, I am. All day, if necessary.’

  The inn was a simple, flat-roofed building covered in crumbling white stucco, but the innkeeper was effusive in his greetings and welcomed them into the premises, offering fruit and dates, as well as wine and water. Rose was hungry and she was also thirsty, but Bradley insisted that the water might be contaminated and she accepted a large slice of melon instead. The interior of the inn was comparatively cool, but it was also dark, and smelled strongly of the droppings left by the chickens that wandered in and out at will.

  Rose thanked the man for his hospitality, but she could not stand the suffocating darkness or the stench, and she went outside to sit on a bench beneath the swaying palms.

  Bradley joined her. ‘We could return to the hotel,’ he said tentatively. ‘I know you want to get your story, but is it worth staying here all day in the baking heat?’

  ‘I can’t give in now, Bradley. That’s what everyone would expect me to do, and I want to prove that I can do as well as any man. I want to be sure that Eugene is safe before I leave here.’

  ‘I understand. He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?’

  ‘He’s been good to me. I don’t forget my friends.’

  It was too hot to make polite conversation, and they lapsed into silence. The leathery leaves of the palms clattered together in a gentle breeze, reminding Rose of Sadie’s knitting needles, clicking rhythmically as her skilled hands worked at speed. The sun rose higher in the pearl-white sky and a heat haze shimmered above the ground. Rose found herself nodding off as heat and exhaustion threatened to overcome her, and she came to with a start as Bradley leaped to his feet.

  He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the harsh sunlight. ‘I can see a cloud of dust on the horizon. I don’t think we’ll have long to wait after all.’

  Rose was wide awake now. She sat transfixed by the dusty cloud that grew in size until it seemed to fill the sky and the cavalry burst through it at a gallop. She raised herself from the hard wooden seat, covering her nose and mouth with her hands as the tiny particles of sand clung to her skin and hair, covering her clothes in a white powder. She had not intended to draw attention to herself, but when she saw Max she waved and called his name.

  He reined in his horse, bringing it to a shuddering halt. ‘Rose? What in hell’s name are you doing here?’ He turned to Bradley, his lips white with anger. ‘You’ll be up on a charge for this, Private. You had no right to bring Miss Munday here.’

  ‘It’s not his fault, Max,’ Rose cried angrily. ‘I made him accompany me, and if he had refused I would have come alone.’

  ‘Munday? Is that you?’ A familiar voice rang out from a group of riders, who approached more slowly, some of them slumped over their saddles as if wounded, sick or suffering from heat and exhaustion.

  Rose ignored Max and threaded her way through the sweating animals to where Eugene was seated on a horse that was large enough to pull a gun carriage.

  ‘Are you all right, Guvnor?’ She studied his face, noting a livid scar above his left eye. His cheeks were sunken and he looked pale when compared to the bronzed faces of his rescuers. His normally well-trimmed beard was long
and unkempt, but his eyes were bright and his smile undiminished.

  ‘I’m all the better for seeing you, Munday. But what in heaven’s name are you doing out here in the desert? I thought you were safe in London, learning to use my typewriting machine.’

  ‘A lot has happened since then, Guvnor.’ She turned her head at the sound of Max’s irate voice.

  He strode up to them. ‘Come away, Rose. We have to get the sick men back to the barracks and you’re holding us up.’

  ‘I thought you’d stopped to water the horses, Captain Manning,’ Eugene said smoothly. ‘I could do with a drink myself, preferably a bottle of good claret, or even a cup of tea. Not the minty stuff the locals drink.’

  ‘I’ve given the men ten minutes to see to their horses and get themselves a drink.’ Max seized Rose by the hand. ‘Come with me, Rose. I’ve instructed the driver to take you back to your hotel. This isn’t the place for you.’

  Rose snatched her hand free. ‘I have enough money to pay the driver, and I’m here on business, Max. If the guvnor has ten minutes he can give me his version of events, and I’ll cable my piece to London when I return to Cairo.’

  Eugene dismounted, although Rose was quick to observe that he moved stiffly and grimaced as his feet hit the hard-baked ground. ‘Miss Munday is working for my paper, Captain. I had no idea that she’d been sent to cover the story, but I know that she’s perfectly capable of doing so.’ He slipped his arm around Rose’s shoulders. ‘I might have to lean on you, Munday. Got caught in the crossfire and took a bullet or two, but nothing too serious.’

  Rose glanced anxiously at Max and she could see from his tight-lipped expression and knotted brow that he was about to make a fuss. ‘Ten minutes, Max,’ she said softly. ‘And then I promise you that I’ll go quietly. And please don’t blame Private Cook. He was detailed to take care of me and that’s exactly what he’s done.’

  ‘We’ll discuss this later.’ Max turned away to shout instructions to part of the contingent that had just arrived.

  ‘You might not want to get too close to me, Munday,’ Eugene said with a rueful smile. ‘We weren’t given the opportunity to wash or shave in camp.’

  She hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘You do look a bit shaggy, Guvnor. You might have to be smuggled into the hotel through the back door.’

  ‘And I was expecting a hero’s welcome.’

  ‘Let’s get you into the shade and you can tell me all about it.’ Rose beckoned to Bradley as they approached the bench where she had been sitting. ‘Be a good chap and fetch some refreshment for Mr Sheldon.’ She suppressed a giggle as Eugene lowered himself onto the hard wooden seat. ‘Sorry, Guvnor, but you look as though you could do with a cushion.’

  ‘It’s not funny,’ he groaned. ‘Being shot in the backside is no joke, although I probably shouldn’t use such crude language in front of a young lady.’

  She sat down next to him. ‘I’m no lady, I’m a newspaperman.’

  Eugene threw back his head and laughed, drawing curious glances from the soldiers who were closest to them. ‘I’ve missed you, Munday. I never thought I’d say that, but all I could think about in that dirty, flea-ridden tent was the brief time we spent working together. I knew I could make a journalist of you, but you seem to have become one without me.’

  Rose reached for her reticule and took out the pad and pencil. ‘I am a professional now, so give me a broad outline and I’ll fill in the twiddly bits.’

  ‘Only you would say something like that, Munday.’ Eugene reached out to take the mug that Bradley handed him.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s their rough wine, sir,’ Bradley said apologetically. ‘It’s all they have apart from water, which is probably undrinkable.’

  Eugene drained the wine in one long swallow. ‘That tasted as good as the finest claret, Private. Perhaps a refill is in order?’

  ‘I need you sober for this interview.’ Rose made an effort to sound strict, but she could not stop smiling. ‘It’s good to have you back, Guvnor, even if you do look like a brigand.’

  Eugene leaned back against the rough wall, stroking his hirsute chin. ‘I think I might go clean shaven for a while.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Your lady friends might disapprove.’

  ‘You don’t like the idea of my naked chin?’

  ‘I don’t think I do, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m supposed to be interviewing you.’

  ‘You’re right, Munday. Now where shall I begin? I want you to make me out to be a hero. That will make my sister sit up and take me seriously.’

  ‘You can tell her yourself. We’re staying at Shepheard’s with your parents. They’ll be overjoyed to see you, and so proud.’

  ‘Really, Munday? Do you think so? If you’re right it will be the first time my pa has given me credit for anything. I’ve always been a disappointment to him.’ Eugene accepted another mug of wine from Bradley with a nod and a smile. ‘I’m beginning to feel mellow. Now where was I?’

  ‘You’d best be quick, Guvnor,’ Rose said hastily. ‘Max is getting ready to leave and the men are mounting up. Maybe you could travel in the carriage with me, and Bradley could ride your horse.’

  A sharp intake of breath from Bradley made her look up and smile. ‘It’s a trained cavalry horse, and I’m sure it’s much better behaved than those donkeys we rode in Alexandria.’

  ‘Good heavens, Munday. It sounds as if you’ve had a more eventful war than I did,’ Eugene said, chuckling. ‘Oh hell, here comes your beloved, and he doesn’t look very happy. I’d better climb up on that apology for a horse and ride with the men. We’ll continue this chat at dinner tonight. Tell my parents to book another place at table.’

  The first thing that Rose did on her return to Cairo was to send a cable to Arthur Radley, informing him that Eugene had been found safe and well. She decided to keep the details for a fuller report, but the main thing was to catch the headlines next day. Her attempts to find Mrs Sheldon were fruitless, and the concierge said he had seen her leaving the hotel with her husband. Cecilia proved just as elusive and Rose had to wait for over an hour seated on the terrace, drinking endless glasses of mint tea, until she saw a carriage draw to a halt on the street below and Seth Mallinson handing Cecilia to the pavement. The tilt of Cissie’s head and the way she was smiling up at her escort convinced Rose that her friend was enjoying a flirtation with the dashing colonial officer. And who could blame her? Seth was charming, and his exotic lineage added a hint of danger to their relationship, which would be frowned upon by society. Even so, as she watched them mount the steps, arm in arm, Rose was aware that Cissie was playing a dangerous game. She had been frank about her past affairs, where she had been in control and had abandoned her lovers the moment they began to bore her, but Rose had a feeling that Cecilia Sheldon might have met her match. Seth Mallinson did not look like a man who was prepared to give up easily, and Rose suspected that the attraction was mutual. She stood up and waved to attract their attention, and Cecilia acknowledged her with a nod and a smile.

  Seth escorted her to the table and he greeted Rose with his customary charm, making her feel as though he was genuinely pleased to see her, but when he spoke to Cecilia his tone deepened and his expression changed perceptibly.

  ‘Thank you for a delightful afternoon, Cecilia, but I’m afraid I must leave you now as I have business to attend to.’ He raised her hand to his lips, his intense gaze focused on her and her alone.

  Rose knew then that she had been correct in her assumption that there was more to their relationship than a passing fancy, and she looked away.

  ‘It was lovely, Seth,’ Cecilia said softly. ‘The Sphinx will hold precious memories for me now.’

  For a brief moment Rose thought he was going to sweep Cissie up in his arms and kiss her on the lips, but he merely bowed and smile. ‘Until tonight.’

  Cecilia stared after him as he walked away. ‘Isn’t he wonderful, Rose?’

  ‘Are you falling in love
with him, Cissie?’

  ‘Do you know, I think I am,’ Cecilia said seriously. She took a seat at the table and beckoned to one of the waiters who was hovering at a respectful distance. ‘Mint tea, please. And baklava, lots of it. I’m starving.’ She sat back in her chair, smiling happily. ‘Did you have a good day, Rose?’

  ‘Have you forgotten why I went to the barracks with Private Cook?’

  ‘No, darling. I know it was one of your journalistic wild-goose chases. Did you learn anything new?’

  ‘Not much, other than the fact that Eugene is a free man.’

  ‘What?’ Cecilia’s voice rose to a pitch that caused the other guests to turn and stare at her. ‘They found my brother?’ she lowered her voice. ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘He made light of his injuries and he looked tired, but he’s in good spirits. You’ll see him at dinner this evening.’

  ‘I’ve invited Seth to dine with us,’ Cecilia said, frowning.

  ‘Perhaps it might be better to have a family meal?’ Rose eyed her curiously. ‘I don’t know, but it seems to me that’s what your parents would want.’

  Cecilia looked away. ‘I want Seth to be present. Doesn’t that count for anything?’

  ‘You’ve only just met him, Cissie. Eugene has just been found alive and released from captivity. Are you telling me that this man is more important to you than your brother?’

  ‘I love Gene, of course I do. But I’m nearly twenty-three, Rose. I’ve done exactly as I pleased all my life because my parents indulged me, and I took lovers and rejected them when I became bored.’ Cecilia sat back while the waiter brought her order to the table. She took a sip of mint tea, but shook her head when he proffered the plate of sweet pastries.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me all this,’ Rose said in a low voice when the waiter moved away to serve another table.

  ‘I’m trying to explain myself to you.’ Cecilia lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. ‘A year ago I found myself in a delicate condition, which would have been the ruin of me.’

  ‘What did you do?’