Today's Embrace (36 page)

There were still more passengers jamming the cabanas in the
souk
,
the market, vainly hoping to find a lavatory. In the crowd and confusion, Evy became separated from Mrs. Croft. She stopped and turned back, but Mrs. Croft was nowhere to be seen.

Oh no! Where could she have gone? She couldn't have gotten that far behind.

Then Evy remembered Mrs. Croft's arthritic limp, and she berated herself for such thoughtlessness. She had rushed on her way without so much as a glance behind to see if her dear friend was keeping up. Mrs. Croft had once called out to her, but Evy thought she was pausing to look at blue beads at one of the stands. But Mrs. Croft knew Evy was going to the silk stall, and she would surely go there to meet. Evy gave one more searching look around before turning once again toward the cabana at the far end of the souk. Surely Mrs. Croft would show up if Evy just waited there.

It was terribly hot and dry, despite the nearby blue water of Tangier Bay. The sunlight was glittering and hurting her eyes. Her throat grew dry with thirst, and she looked about for water to buy. She proceeded forward, determined to find the bolt of silk she wanted.

Evy made her way through the sluggish throng toward the other end of the souk to one side of the harbor. She paused when she saw some Arab men watching her. Had she not seen these same men before? When she had disembarked from the ship? Were they following her?

A French legionnaire standing just ahead was questioning some uncooperative Arab traders with camels. The men were seated in the dusty shade of a tamarind tree. The presence of the French mercenary soldiers made her feel a little safer. She walked on in search of Mrs. Croft and the silk cloth.

She came near the whitewashed walls at the edge of the souk. Here some Berber women sat on the hard, swept ground, wearing striped blankets and straw hats adorned with black pompons—a remnant of old Spain that had once ruled the Sahara before France. The women were guarding their piles of eggs and dried
medejul
dates. Evy paused, dug into her handbag for some English coins, and handed them to one of the
Berber women in exchange for the dates, but she was too thirsty to eat them now. She wondered if Rogan would enjoy them aboard ship.

She walked forward, glancing in all directions for a sign of Mrs. Croft. She couldn't have gone far. She hoped she would suddenly appear. What would she tell Rogan if she lost poor Mrs. Croft amid the bazaar?

She stood in the dusty square, her concerns becoming as heavy as the bag slung over her shoulder. She tried to assure herself there was little reason for alarm. So they had somehow separated from each other; that was no cause for panic. Even now Mrs. Croft might already be at the cabana, among hats and bolts of cloth, waiting for her. Yes, that surely must be. After all, Mrs. Croft knew she wanted to buy silk, so she would move toward that spot. Evy quickened her steps.

An Arab walked by hawking his drinking pitcher and his tin cup. Water! If she didn't get some soon, she'd begin seeing mirages! Mrs. Croft—and water—that was it! Mrs. Croft had gone for water …

She called for the Arab to stop. “How many English shillings?”

The stoic-faced trader held up five fingers. He suddenly grinned at her, showing a missing tooth.

“Five shillings!” She didn't have that much loose change. “That's robbery,” she murmured, sure he couldn't understand her English.

“For you, two shillings.”

“One shilling and these dates.” She pushed both toward him.

“Allah will reward you.”

“Um—I'd prefer not. Just the water, please.”

As he poured she looked about uneasily. “Tell me, have you seen an English lady with gray hair, tall, rather large, wearing a flowered hat and carrying a straw bag—oversized?”

He poured the trickling water into the tin cup.
I don't care if a camel drank from it, I'm thirsty
, she thought.

She took a chance in drinking from the cup, but she felt feverishly hot. Her lips were dry and cracked and her throat such that she could hardly talk.

“Veery beeeg lady, mademoiselle? Like thees?” He held his palm up a foot above his own head, grinning amiably.

“Well … yes, I suppose, that is rather overdoing it, but … and wearing a blue frock with large puffed sleeves?”

“Ahh!” He nodded vigorously, watching her with the same hungry smile, his shiny black eyes fully expectant. He pointed behind him. “I see madam go that way—behind the
hanootz.
” He pointed to one of the now empty bazaar stalls. “I bring you there, yes?”

“Evy!
Don't
drink that!”

She whirled, stunned by Rogan's shout. He was pushing his way toward her through the throng, his dark hair damp beneath his hat as he rushed up.

“It's drugged, no doubt,” and he grabbed it from her and whiffed it, tasting it. He spat it out, threw down the cup with a clatter, and grabbed the Arab by the front of his djellabah.

The man pleaded for mercy as Rogan shoved him angrily to the dust. “I ought to break your neck.”

The Arab groveled in the dust, covering his head with both arms and rolling up into a knot. Evy grabbed Rogan's arm. “Mrs. Croft. She's disappeared. He was going to lead me to her.”

Rogan's eyes flashed. “That's an old trick. He hasn't seen Mrs. Croft. She's waiting for us back near the front of the souk. This ruddy camel trader was going to drug you and sell you to an Arab trader. You'd have likely wound up in some Arab sheik's tent somewhere. Slavery is rampant around here.”

“Slavery—” She gasped and stared at him, a cold chill running through her blood.
A harem
.

Rogan steadied her, drawing her into the safety of his strong arms.

“Darling, didn't I ask you to stay aboard ship and wait for me?”

“You didn't tell me anything,” she protested. “You told Mrs. Croft.”

His dark eyes flickered. His jaw tensed. “All right, I was a little arrogant in not explaining to you myself, but I was in a ruddy hurry. An English ship is leaving for the Cape in the morning, and it was
important we had space on it. Look, Evy,” he said more gently, “I apologize. I didn't take you seriously about wanting to see the souk.”

She clenched her jaw to keep from crying. She had almost been taken into slavery to be sold into some Arab's harem!
Oh, Lord Jesus, thank You for looking after me in my ignorance. Thank You for sending Rogan in time. I should have listened to him and not willfully pushed ahead with my own wishes
. A tear welled up in her eyes and suddenly, despite the throng, she found herself in Rogan's embrace. He was holding her so she could hardly breathe.

“Evy, darling, if anything had happened to you—”

Mrs. Croft came rushing up, sweating and breathing hard, her face flushed red with heat and anxiety.

“Oh, thank God he found you, Evy, dear lamb. I was so afraid. I turned around, and you were gone. I didn't know where you'd disappeared to. I went straightaway back to the harbor and saw Master Rogan coming this way. He was like a mirage. I was so happy to see him.”

Rogan watched the Arab, who was crawling away under one of the stalls. “Come, let's get out of here. I don't like the looks of him. He's likely got a ring of thugs waiting on the other side of the souk.”

He took Evy's arm and Mrs. Croft's and led them toward the harbor. He looked down at Evy. “Shall I carry you?”

“No.” She smiled nervously. “I'm all right now. But I don't think I'll ever get over shuddering when I remember what could have happened to me.”

Some of the same gravity and irritation sparked in his eyes. “Now do you see why it would have been wiser to stay at Rookswood and good old Grimston Way?”

Evy looked away. She knew he still had not fully forgiven her deception of withholding from him the conception of their baby.

The HMS
Horatio Nelson
docked at Capetown weeks later. “You'll want to stay at Cape House for a few days with Camilla,” Rogan told Evy after they arrived at the Cape. “She'll be able to share facts about Katie. You can even tour her room and have a look at the now infamous stables where Henry was knocked unconscious by Heyden when the Black Diamond was stolen.”

They left the ship, and he hailed a coach to bring her and Mrs. Croft to the house.

“You sound as though you won't be staying at the house.”

“I have business to take care of before the trek. I should be back in a week or so.”

She reached a hand toward him. “Rogan, I—”

“I'm sure Camilla will have a doctor you can see while here.”

She slowly withdrew her hand, which he had not taken, and turned her head away from his laconic gaze. A glance toward Mrs. Croft in the back showed her unhappy face. The trouble between Evy and Rogan was impossible to hide.

Cape House was as she had expected: a white two-story mansion with a red roof and encircling verandas. There looked to be several acres of land with stables. She had always thought that coming here would in some way touch her heart. As she stood looking at Cape House, knowing Katie had grown up here under Julien's rule, Evy surprisingly felt very little. Nor did the long anticipated meeting with her father and
stepmother bring her joy. Mrs. Croft had been ushered off by the housekeeper. Rogan, who had been about to leave after bringing Evy to meet her stepmother, stopped short in the hall and turned sharply when Camilla announced in brutal honesty, “There is no good news with which to greet you, Evy. Your father, Anthony, is dead. He's been murdered at Bulawayo. No one there knows who did it, or why.”

Evy felt the emotional blow. Anthony, dead?
Murdered?

She must have turned ashen, for Rogan came quickly beside her, holding her, and leading her to a chair.

“I shouldn't have shocked you like this,” Camilla said remorsefully. “I'm beside myself. I fear I'm not thinking well.”

“Evy is expecting a baby,” Rogan told her. “After this long voyage, I think we should call for a doctor.”

“I'm all right,” Evy interjected.

“Do you have a doctor you respect?” Rogan asked Lady Camilla.

“I'll call Dr. Morris at once.” Camilla hurried off, and Rogan looked down at Evy with concern.

“Darling, are you all right? Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?”

Darling
. He hadn't called her that in weeks.

“I'll be all right,” she said. “Oh, Rogan,
murdered
. How could this have happened? Do you suppose there's some mistake?”

“Stay calm. We'll find out. I should be able to wire Peter.” He turned as Camilla came back.

“He's on his way. I've asked Tandy to bring tea.”

“How did it happen, Camilla?” Rogan asked. “Are you sure it was murder? Not an accident on the trek to Bulawayo?”

“No, Rogan, murder. It was horrible, horrible …”

“How do you know this?” Evy cried.

Camilla gestured to the desk beside the window. “All the papers and letters are there, Rogan. I've gathered everything together for you. At first Julien wired from Bulawayo that Anthony had met with an accident, but later new information came to me from Captain Ryan Retford.
Darinda, too, wrote me. You can read all the details yourself. I don't understand how this could happen, but it has.”

Camilla turned to look at Evy and held out a hand to her, her eyes full of pity. “And you, poor child. No sooner did you learn who your father was and reconciled with him, than you lost him.”

Evy in turn tried to comfort Camilla, but her own heart was like a tomb. “I still have a stepmother,” she said, “and … I'm going to have a baby.”

“If only we had happier news about Anthony. He would have been thrilled to have a grandchild—”

“Oh, Camilla—”

Rogan did not leave Cape House that day as he had planned; the departure for Bulawayo was delayed. With Evy receiving a clear bill of health for traveling from Camilla's doctor, Rogan arranged to leave the next day. There was a train to Kimberly, he told her, and something new had been added since he'd left. There was now a stagecoach line that made a run between Kimberly and Bulawayo.

“You'd better turn in early, Evy,” Rogan told her. “You won't be able to do much sleeping on the train. It's a dusty journey and none too comfortable. I'll do what I can to get you both an extra seat so you can lie down.”

“I'll be all right,” she said briefly.

He glanced her over, then, nodding good night to Camilla, he turned and left the house. Where he went, Evy had no idea. She saw Camilla look a bit surprised, but she didn't ask questions. Evy noted, however, that she treated her sympathetically.

As Camilla led her upstairs to the bedrooms, Evy told her the truth.

“I've blundered terribly. You see, I wanted so much to come that I feared to tell Rogan I was going to have a baby until we were out at sea, too late for him to ask me to stay at Rookswood.”