Under A Desert Moon. Laura Martin
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‘A shame?’
‘That it will end up on the bottom of the Nile.’
With a swift movement she leant over the edge of the felucca and held the Shabti above the water.
He lunged forward, catching her wrist in his hand. Her fingers still gripped the artefact but it would only take one movement to send it to the bottom of the river, never to be seen again.
‘I don’t like being lied to,’ she said.
Sebastian almost laughed. She was doing this because he’d lied to her?
‘How did you come to be in possession of such a piece?’
He shifted slightly, aware his body was pressed up against hers in a most delightful manner. If he wasn’t careful, her protective old bodyguard would have a sword up against his throat for bad behaviour.
‘I had a scroll,’ he said. ‘It hinted at the location of a chamber under the Temple of Horus.’
He saw the interest flash in her eyes and he relaxed. Here was a woman who loved Egypt. She wouldn’t destroy a piece of its history by dropping it into the Nile.
‘I spent a week searching for it and today I got lucky.’
‘And the men who were chasing you?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘They’d noticed my sustained interest in the temple and were out to take the Shabti for themselves. The market for genuine ancient Egyptian artefacts is one where demand is greater than supply. No doubt they worked for one of the more underhand antiquities dealers in Cairo.’
‘Was there anything else in the chamber?’
He could hear the excitement in her voice and found her excitement enthusing him. He let go of her wrist and leant back, relaxing.
‘The entrance was hidden under a huge stone slab. Once I managed to move it to one side, it revealed a narrow staircase.’
He watched as Emma unconsciously brought her hand back over the side of the boat and cradled the artefact between her fingers. Her eyes were alight with a passion he knew was reflected in his own when talking about archaeology.
‘I had to take a flaming torch down the stairs to illuminate the chamber below. The flickering light revealed the most wonderful paintings all over the walls.’
‘Were they colourful?’ Emma asked.
He nodded.
She looked back towards the Temple of Horus wistfully.
‘All the paintings I’ve seen whilst I’ve been in Egypt have been exposed to the elements,’ she explained. ‘The colours have faded. I’d love to see something so well preserved.’
Seb nearly found himself promising to take her to see the chamber below the Temple of Horus, but thankfully stopped himself before the words formed on his lips. The last thing he needed was to spend time acting as tour guide for a wide-eyed English lady. She might be a very pretty lady, but she was off-limits. She had that air of the upper class about her, and, although Seb had left the English gentleman part of his persona behind many years ago when he’d left England, he knew better than to dally with an unmarried innocent young woman. As much as he wanted to.
Emma Knight was exactly the kind of young woman his father had been so eager for him to marry all those years ago. Petite, blonde, pretty and innocent. The very embodiment of the saying ‘an English rose’. Seb had refused then, and now he was too old and worldly-wise to get himself in trouble over a pretty face and an enthusiastic smile.
‘I would offer to take you to the chamber,’ Seb said smoothly, ‘but unfortunately I’m not sure I’d be welcome.’
She nodded, clearly disappointed to have missed such a well-preserved slice of Egypt.
‘The chamber had a few statues dotted around, and on a raised stone platform was that Shabti.’
Emma glanced down to the Shabti in her hands, running her fingers over the engravings one last time before holding it out to him.
‘Thank you,’ he said, slipping the artefact back into his bag.
‘Will you sell it?’ Emma asked.
He nodded.
‘I would find it so hard to part with something so beautiful.’
Seb shrugged. Once, many years ago, he’d felt the same, but he couldn’t afford to be sentimental now. He had a business to run, and employees who relied on him to sell the artefacts they found, not become attached to them.
Mohammed shouted from the front of the boat and pointed ahead of them.
‘Cairo,’ Seb explained. ‘Is it your first visit?’
Emma nodded, her eyes widening with excitement.
‘You won’t want to miss this.’
Seb stood and held out his hand to help Emma rise to her feet. They moved to the edge of the felucca and watched the city take shape before their eyes.
Ten years ago when Seb had left England he’d been directionless, moving from place to place. He hadn’t known where he would settle or how he would make a living. He’d sailed down the Nile in a felucca very much like this one and when he’d caught his first glimpse of Cairo he’d known he was home.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Emma said.
Seb had heard Cairo being called many things but beautiful wasn’t the usual response. Most people fresh from the rolling green hills of England thought Cairo was dirty and dusty. Only a few saw the gem nestled in the desert, the charm of the whitewashed buildings and the narrow streets.
‘This is only the beginning,’ he said quietly to Emma.
She turned to him, the enthusiasm evident on her face.
‘I want to see it all,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually here.’
Seb watched her as she looked out at the dusty city. He wondered what this well-brought-up young lady was doing so far away from home. There were plenty of Europeans in Cairo—the West had become interested in what Egypt had to offer in the last few years—but you didn’t see many unmarried, basically unchaperoned young women out here on their own.
He glanced at Emma’s elderly protector. He was originally from Egypt, if Seb wasn’t much mistaken. He watched his young mistress like a hawk, but Seb doubted he would be much use if she actually got herself into a dangerous situation. And he didn’t think Miss Emma Knight was the retiring kind of woman who kept herself out of danger well.
‘What are your plans when we reach Cairo?’ Seb asked.
For the first time since he’d met her, Seb noticed a veil come down over Emma’s expression. She glanced at him warily.
‘We will be staying with Colonel and Mrs Fitzgerald,’ she said after a few seconds. ‘They were friends of my father and have promised to help me arrange some trips to see different temples and tombs.’
Intriguing. If he wasn’t much mistaken she had a hidden agenda, something she didn’t want him to know about.
‘Mrs Fitzgerald is at the centre of the Cairo social scene.’
Emma looked at him quizzically. ‘There’s a Cairo social scene?’
He laughed. ‘Nothing like what you’d be used to in London, I’m sure.’
‘Are you part of this social scene?’
Seb glanced at her again. Anyone else with that question he would have assumed was flirting with him, but Emma’s face was free from guile. She was just genuinely interested.
‘The runaway son of an English lord? I’m the guest of honour at most of these events. The community here does love a little bit of scandal.’