Only You (5 page)

Susan Wallace strolled out
to the verandah and downed the contents of a glass of champagne.

Her mother wouldn’t like her drinking, which was the reason she’d come outside.  Susan adored champagne, and with Edna finally home and watching her like a hawk, there were so few occasions to imbibe.

Edna wanted to constantly lord herself over Susan, but Susan had spent too many years without a mother, and now that she was twenty, she didn’t need her mother butting in and telling her how to behave. 

She wouldn’t say she was bitter over how her mother had lived in India and left her alone in England.  She was simply far beyond the time when that part of their past mattered in the slightest.  Susan had grown up, but Edna had missed Susan’s childhood and wished she was still a little girl.

She leaned her hips on the balustrade and stared into the parlor, assessing the gowns of the women from Paris.  Mrs. Valda in particular was stunning.  Susan yearned to comport herself in such a sophisticated manner, but she’d never had the chance to learn what French females seemed to instinctually know.

And there never would be a chance because Susan would never have the money to buy such beautiful clothes.  Her mother believed Susan should marry a soldier as Edna had done, that she should trot off to India and be courted by men like her father, men who were manly men, who wasted their days killing the natives, then bragging about it at supper.

Susan would never wed a paltry soldier, and she was desperate to figure out how she could get what she wanted—that being tons of money and an exciting life—in the quickest, easiest way.

A man stepped out, and he came over, not stopping until he was right next to her.  In London, a chaperone would have had to present him to Susan, and she loved the more casual atmosphere in Cairo.

She loved Monsieur Valois’s villa too and was curious as to how he’d reply if she begged to stay with him after her mother went to camp in the desert.  Edna insisted they were about to have a grand adventure, but Susan would rather slit her wrists than tour the pyramids with Edna and Fenton. 

Theo she liked well enough, and she thought it would be fantastic if they could remain at Valois’s.  Susan would be able to fill her evenings flirting with the sort of handsome fellow who’d just approached.

“I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting you,” he said.  “You won’t faint if I introduce myself, will you?”

“I’ll try not to.”

He chuckled.  “I am Preston Price.”

“Hello, Mr. Price.  I am Susan Wallace.”

“A very pretty name for a very pretty girl.”

“Thank you.  I’m charmed by flattery so feel free to dispense more of it.”

“You like flattery?  Wonderful.  I’m an expert at bestowing it.”

He had two glasses of champagne, as if he’d been watching her and knew her first one was empty.  He handed it over without asking if she wanted it, and she sipped the bubbly liquid, studying him over the rim.

He was much older than she was, perhaps as old as forty, but she liked older men.  The boys who’d courted her once she was out of school had been tedious and silly.  With the exception of Neville Pinkerton, she’d refused to give any of them a second glance.

Mr. Price was tall and slender, with a full head of dark hair, although it was peppered with strands of grey so he looked very distinguished.  He had the most luscious brown eyes, and he was evaluating her with an intensity that was exhilarating.

In his formal evening attire, he appeared dapper and fit and extremely polished, and she suffered a little thrill from realizing that she’d tantalized him sufficiently that he’d been compelled to say hello.

“What brings you to Cairo, Miss Wallace?” he inquired.

“We’re sightseeing.  How about you?”

“I’m planning the same.  I have acquaintances who are some distance down the river.  I’m arranging transport so I can join them.”

“Will you roam the desert like a nomad and consort with savages?”

“Gad, I wouldn’t think so.  I rather like my creature comforts.”

He toasted her with his champagne glass, and they both laughed.

“I can’t guess what we’ll find at our destination,” she said.  “We’re off to an archeological dig that’s being run by an old friend of my father’s.  Cedric Webster?  I’m told he’s quite famous.  Have you ever heard of him?”

“No.”

“He’s been digging there for decades, so supposedly it’s a very modern encampment complete with all the amenities.”

“Let’s hope so—for your sake.”

“Have you met my mother, Mrs. Wallace?”

“Yes, I chatted with her inside.”

“My father was in the army and stationed in India, so she’s often traveled to exotic lands.  She swears I’ll enjoy myself once we arrive.  Do you imagine I will?”

“I doubt it.  After you’ve seen one crumbling pyramid, won’t they all start to look alike?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t been to Egypt before.”

“Neither have I, but I’ve visited plenty of museums.  After a bit, the artifacts all blur together.”

“That’s my opinion exactly.”  She sighed and sipped her champagne.  “Oh, I wish I could stay in Cairo and let my mother flit off to that camp by herself.”

“Have you suggested it?”

“It would be pointless.  She’s determined to expand my horizons.”

“You poor dear,” he sarcastically crooned, and they laughed again.

“If you’re not interested in sightseeing,” she asked, “why are you here?”

“I’d grown bored in London, gaping at the same faces day in and day out.  I was desperate for a change of scenery.”

“You’ve definitely found it.”

“Yes, I definitely have.”

But from how he was assessing her, she could tell that he didn’t mean the landscape.  He was intrigued by
her
, and she preened under his scrupulous appraisal.

Neville was the only man who’d ever gazed at her with such searing regard, and she’d relished sending him into such paroxysms of ardor.  His bold and blatant attention had spurred her to consider conduct she’d had no business considering. 

He’d been madly in love with her, and she’d pretended to feel the same.  She must have been a very capable actress, because he’d believed every word she’d ever uttered.  Of course circumstances had quickly spun out of her control.  He’d begged her to elope, but she never would have.  She’d liked leading him on, but a future had been impossible between them. 

Although he was nice enough and handsome as a Greek god, he was a penniless artist who lived to paint.  While she’d never admit it to her mother, it had been a relief when Edna had dragged her away from London in order to separate them.  Susan had protested Edna’s autocratic ways, but not very fervidly.

She’d used her mother as an excuse to break it off, and he’d probably been bereft when she’d jilted him.  She’d fled without a goodbye, so she had no idea.  But honestly!  What had he expected?  

She wondered if Mr. Price had any money.  From their brief conversation, he certainly seemed to possess many captivating attributes.  His dress and mannerisms—and the fact that he could afford a trip down the Nile—had her suspecting he’d have more than a few farthings tucked away.

It might be beneficial to get to know him better.

“How long will you be in Cairo?” he asked.  “Are you leaving for the desert immediately?”

“We’ll be here for several days yet.  Mother still has to hire the porters and make all the arrangements.”

“Where are you staying in the interim?”

“At the Hotel Cairo.”

“A lovely establishment.  I’m staying there myself.”

“Are you?” she blandly replied.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if our paths began to cross.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised either.  Have you seen much of the city?”

“No, Mother isn’t keen on venturing out among the native hoards.”

“Pity.  There are some delightful spots I’d like to show you.”

“I’d like that too.”

“I’d call on you, but I’d really rather not sit around drinking tea with your mother.”

“A fate worse than death, I assure you.”

“If there was some way to…well…
sneak
away, I wouldn’t necessarily complain.”

Susan raised a brow.  “Why, Mr. Price, that sounds like a naughty proposition.  If I was an innocent girl, I might swoon.”

His lazy gaze wandered down her torso, and his evaluation was scandalously personal.

“I wouldn’t take you for the swooning type,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

He pulled out a cheroot, and he used a nearby lantern to light the tip.  They dawdled in the quiet, watching the guests inside, enjoying the verdant garden.  With the cheroot dangling from his fingers, he looked suave and polished, so very different from poor, besotted Neville whose hands had always been flecked with paint no matter how diligently he washed.

Butterflies swarmed in her stomach.  What would it be like to strike up a liaison with such a dashing, older man?  It might be very thrilling.  She’d been alone with Neville on numerous delicious occasions, and she knew how to prevent any irrevocable conduct from being committed.

She was anxious to entice Mr. Price and couldn’t let her mother butt in and wreck things.  But with him being so mature, she couldn’t act like a silly schoolgirl.  He had to view her as worldly and sophisticated.  She thought of the glamorous Parisian, Cassandra Valda, and recognized—if she wanted to capture his attention—she had to comport herself as Mrs. Valda would.

“I was thinking,” he said, “with our both being at the hotel, it might be simple to socialize once in awhile.”

“I’m certain it would be.”

“In fact, if you were cautious, you could just come to my room.  We could relax and revel without interruption.”

Susan’s heart pounded with alarm, but with excitement too.  She was eager to demonstrate that she could be the woman he needed her to be.

“I could do with a bit of
relaxing,”
she blithely said.  “You can’t imagine how stressful it’s been to travel with my mother.”

“Yes, I can.”  He took a final puff of his cheroot, then crushed it under his heel.  Casually, he mentioned, “I eavesdropped on your mother when she was chatting with Valois.  She’s meeting him tomorrow afternoon to discuss your journey down the river.”

“Is she?”

“That sort of planning is quite involved.  It will take an enormous amount of time to hash out the details.”

“It probably will,” she agreed.

“If you remain at the hotel while she’s with Valois, you might have several hours to yourself.  Could you convince her to leave you behind?”

“Absolutely.”  Susan grinned.  “And if I call on a new friend after she departs, there’s no one to know that I kept my own appointment.”

He grinned too.  “No one to know at all.  I’d never tell.”

“Neither would I.”

“Until tomorrow then,” he said.  “Around three?”

“Three sounds perfect.”

He clasped her hand and bowed over it, and as he drew away, she realized he’d slipped her a piece of paper.  He winked, then went inside, and she glanced at it, seeing his room number was written on it.  They were housed on the same floor, although his room was in the opposite wing of the building.

She crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the ferns.  Then she strolled inside too. 

If there was a loud voice shouting in her head, warning her not to proceed, she didn’t have to listen.  From the minute her mother had announced she was a widow and was rushing to England to bring them together as a family, Susan had been livid.

She’d explained to Edna that she was an adult and could make her own decisions.

The entire trip to Egypt had been a bore and a slog.  If she could jump into a clandestine romance with Mr. Price, at least she’d have some delectable memories to carry home to England once they were able to flee the desolate place.  And it was always possible that the relationship would turn out to be more than a romance.  She wouldn’t know if she didn’t try.

She peered across the parlor to find Mr. Price snuggled in a corner with Mrs. Valda.  At the sight, she was shockingly jealous, and if she’d had any reservations about engaging in a flirtation, they were swiftly tossed away.

Tomorrow afternoon at three, Preston Price would definitely have a visitor.

H
ow far is it?”

“To Cedric’s camp?”

“Yes.”

Edna stared at Valois, trying to look firm and confident.  She didn’t trust the French, and he was much too elegant and urbane in all the ways she detested.  She was convinced, should she show the slightest weakness, he’d take advantage of her.

She’d run her husband’s household in India like the most miserly sergeant.  She was an expert at counting her farthings and, before leaving for Cairo, she’d investigated the costs of a Nile voyage.  She knew what she should pay, and she wouldn’t pay a penny more.

“It’s a three-day journey,” Valois said.

“Long days?”

“Yes, but travel on the river can be very luxurious—if you can afford to hire experienced people.”

“I can afford it, but I won’t be cheated,” she vehemently stated.

“Well, of course you won’t be cheated.  That’s why you retained my services, isn’t it?”

He flashed such a smooth, ingratiating smile that she had to brace herself against it.  He was a wily scoundrel, and she wouldn’t be tricked by his smooth manners or placating demeanor.

He was near to fifty as was she, but somehow he didn’t seem to have aged as she had.  He was thin and fit, gracious and congenial, and in his presence she felt dowdy and unkempt.  It didn’t help that she was wearing her widow’s weeds, but when Colonel Wallace had passed away, she’d sworn she would mourn him forever. 

She was in Egypt, and the black clothing was completely unsuitable for the climate, but it made no difference.  She would dress as was appropriate to her personal circumstances.  She just hated that Valois appeared so comfortable.  In his loose trousers and shirt, he was thoroughly at ease, and she was irked at how it put her at a disadvantage.  In any situation, she liked to be in charge.

They were in his office, with him seated behind his desk and her in the chair across.  The previous evening at supper, he’d had servants everywhere, fanning the guests, and she couldn’t figure out why the blasted man didn’t currently have some of them in the room to move the air around with palm fronds.

She suspected it was a French ploy.  He’d keep her miserably hot, which would allow him to manipulate her into agreements she hadn’t intended. 

He was renowned for assisting Europeans in Egypt, but it was always for a very high price.  He was thrifty and shrewd and could deliver whatever type of aid was required.  The fact that much of that aid might be dubious or illegal was of no account.

“How many are in your party?” he asked.  “You told me, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”

“Myself, my two children, and my niece.”

“So four in total.”

“Yes.”

“You can go in one boat.”

“I should hope so.”

“But you’ll have to bring your own supplies, so it will necessitate a second boat.” 

“I have no idea why,” she huffed.

“I’ve been acquainted with Cedric Webster for a long time.  He will expect you to arrive with your own tents, food, servants, and other amenities.”

“It was my understanding that hospitality would be provided.”

“He will likely greet and receive you, madam, but the prior group I sent to him was not so lucky.  As for
hospitality,
you will have to furnish your own.  He’s distracted by his work and a bit of a…character,
non
?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

She hadn’t seen Cedric Webster in two decades, but he and the Colonel had attended school together.  He’d always encouraged the Colonel to visit his archeological dig. 

She and the Colonel had meant to accept Cedric’s offer, but he’d perished before he could make the trip.  Edna viewed the journey as a sort of homage to the Colonel.  He hadn’t been able to go, so Edna was going for him—and taking his children.

She wished Fenton and Susan would recognize how fortunate they were to have the chance to honor their father’s memory, but neither of them had really known the Colonel, and it was difficult for her to get through to them on any topic.

She didn’t remember much about Cedric—except that he was a tad eccentric—and when she’d written to ask if she could come, his reply was short but civil.  He’d explained that he was very busy, and while she was welcome, he wouldn’t be available to entertain her.

Which wasn’t an issue.  She’d spent most of her life in India with the Colonel away from home with his regiment.  She was accustomed to amusing herself, and Cedric’s archeological dig would prove fascinating and rewarding.  The isolated, desert oasis would also be the perfect place to ingratiate herself to Susan and Fenton.

They never showed her the esteem she deserved as their mother, and she was positive the sojourn at Cedric’s camp would bond them.  She chose to ignore the pesky problem that—if bonding was possible—it would have occurred during the lengthy voyage to Egypt, but it hadn’t.

And it hadn’t helped that she’d dragged Theo along.  When the scandal had erupted in London, it had seemed a brilliant decision to bring her with them, but Edna couldn’t see that she’d had any beneficial effect on Theo.  Nor had Theo produced any inroads for Edna to connect with her children.  If anything, Theo’s presence had made matters worse.

“Fine,” she said to Valois, “I’ll need two boats.  I trust you can recommend a competent crew?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“I also trust you’ll negotiate a fair price?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Wallace.  I have a guide who’s about to head down the river to take another passenger beyond Cedric’s camp.  He can escort both of you, and you and the other party can share the cost.  It will save you money.”

“This is a native?”

“No.  He’s from London.”

Edna nodded.  “I’d like to have a British person.  I’ve never been overly fond of hiring the locals.”

He nearly served up a retort, but in the end he tamped down his remark, so it went unvoiced.

“Who is your British guide?” she asked.  “Did I meet him at supper?”

“No, he didn’t attend, but I believe you know him.  It’s Soloman Grey.”

Valois held himself very still, and she suffered the oddest notion that he was testing her, or perhaps taunting her.  She stared him down, feeling as if she was being deliberately baited.

“Who is his passenger?”

“Mr. Preston Price.  You were introduced to him last night.”

“Yes, I was, and I must confess that neither man would be suitable.”

He bit down a grin.  “Why is that?”

“I am traveling with my daughter and my niece.”

“Yes, they’re lovely girls.”

“I agree.  They’re very pretty, but extremely impressionable too.  I can’t have them forced into close quarters with such handsome rogues.”

“Soloman excels at his job.  If there’s trouble, there’s no one I’d rather have guarding my back.”

“Be that as it may, I can’t use him, and I’m not interested in sharing a boat or the expense with Mr. Price.”

“It’s Soloman or a native, Mrs. Wallace.”

“It will have to be a native then.”

“Are you sure that should be your choice?”

Edna didn’t need to reflect.  She was determined to set Theo on a better path, so she would never throw her together with Soloman Grey.

As to Mr. Price…well!

She’d spoken to him for all of a minute and had easily deduced his devious attributes.  She hadn’t yet heard any negative gossip about him, but with sufficient opportunity, she imagined she could uncover all sorts of unsavory details.

Theo and Susan would not travel with Preston Price or Soloman Grey.  They would not fraternize.  They would not be…
tempted
.  There!  That’s what worried Edna.  Both girls had proved themselves frivolous where men were concerned, so they couldn’t be trusted to behave appropriately.

Soloman Grey and Preston Price could sail their own boat down the Nile, but they wouldn’t sail Edna’s!

She’d had enough of Valois, with his fawning and polite obsequiousness.  She pushed back her chair and stood.

“When might we be ready to depart?” she asked.

He gave a very French shrug.  “How about in two days?”

“Two days will be fine.  I’ll be at the hotel.  Send me a note if you require any information or assistance from me.”

“I’ve delivered many, many people down the Nile, Mrs. Wallace.  I’m positive I’ll be able to get you where you’re going.”

“I’ll be counting my pennies, Monsieur.  Don’t fritter them away.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She spun and left, and if she thought he rolled his eyes in exasperation, it had to be a trick of the light.

Theo walked onto the
dock behind Monsieur Valois’s villa.  His butler had shown her into an exquisite parlor where she could have waited for Edna, but he’d also encouraged her to head to the river if she preferred.  The temperature was much cooler by the water.

She’d been on pins and needles, terrified that—whatever location she picked—she’d run into Mr. Grey.  He’d claimed to live with Valois, and she had no reason to doubt him, just as she had no reason to suspect he’d be loitering in the house in the middle of the afternoon.

Still though, she wouldn’t risk another encounter.  He was tremendously fascinating, and she wasn’t immune to his massive charm.  She didn’t want to fend it off so, should she bump into him, nothing good could come from any meeting.  

When Edna had announced that she was calling on Valois, Theo had worked to convince Edna to let her stay at the hotel with Fenton and Susan who’d pleaded a case of indigestion.  But after Theo’s prior shenanigans, where she’d trekked off to the bazaar the moment Edna wasn’t watching, Edna had insisted Theo accompany her.

She was trying to relax, but it was impossible.  At every noise, she jumped, certain it would be Mr. Grey stepping out onto the dock, with his not realizing she was there too. 

Finally, she decided to return to the parlor, and she went to the path that led into the garden and onto the verandah.  Just as she would have emerged from the foliage, she heard two people talking.  She stopped and peeked through the ferns, disturbed to discover that she’d stumbled on Mr. Grey after all. 

He was with the ravishing French beauty, Cassandra Valda.  They were in the shadows, their bodies pressed together, with not an inch between them, and Theo was irked to recollect that he’d stood that close to
her
when they’d flirted the previous evening. 

Had it been flirting?  Yes, and she was aggravated to learn that he would behave similarly with another woman such a short interval later.

Of course Mrs. Valda was glamorous and exotic in a way Theo could never be, so Theo could understand her allure and why Mr. Grey would be intrigued.

“Will you visit me tonight, darling?” Mrs. Valda asked him, her voice husky and low, her French accent captivating.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I have many preparations to complete.”

Theo scowled, not sure if she was upset by the fact that he was leaving or that he would visit Mrs. Valda.  From her seductive tone, it didn’t sound as if she planned an innocent rendezvous.  Where was her husband?

Mrs. Valda feigned a pout and snuggled herself even closer.  “Why bother with the likes of Mr. Price?”

“I have to earn a salary in some fashion.  Not all of us have a rich spouse to pay the bills.”

“How many times can you sail up and down the Nile before it becomes a tedious bore?”

He shrugged.  “I never tire of it.”

“You’d have much more fun if you remained in Cairo with me.”

“I suppose so, but then how would Mr. Price get to his friends’ camp?”

“Let him hire some natives.  They can take him.”

Mrs. Valda wrapped her arms around Mr. Grey’s waist, and she kissed him on the mouth.  He eagerly joined in, his arms going around her as well.  He pushed her up against the wall, their private parts touching, and they rocked their hips in a stirring motion that had Theo’s pulse racing.

She told herself to sneak back to the dock, but she was afraid they’d hear her shoes crunching on the gravel.  If they spun and saw her spying on them, she’d die of mortification.  So she was locked in place, wrongly observing an event she absolutely shouldn’t have viewed.

Mr. Grey was stroking his hands over Mrs. Valda’s body, and Theo couldn’t imagine where it would all lead.  It almost seemed as if he might start removing her clothes, but nothing more risqué occurred.

Quite abruptly, Mr. Grey appeared weary of her, as if he wasn’t as thrilled by the torrid embrace as he should be.  He wrenched his lips from hers, and though she reached for him, he stepped away.

“You toy with me,” she scolded.  “You get my blood boiling, but you never cool it down.”

“I’m not about to ravish you on Valois’s verandah.”

“Then you must visit me at my apartment and ravish me there.”

“I’ll think about it.”  He pointed into the house.  “Now would you please go?  I’m very busy today, and you know I don’t appreciate you stopping by.”

“Valois doesn’t mind.”

“He’s just being polite, and considering all he’s done for me, I don’t want to insult him by engaging in inappropriate conduct in his home.”

“He’s done you no favors.”