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Emma took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she reopened them there was a steely focus about her.
‘That was a mistake, Mr Oakfield,’ Emma said in a tone that invited no argument. ‘I would appreciate it if you would leave. I will make your excuses to the Fitzgeralds.’
Seb knew there was no point arguing. The intimacy they’d shared during the kiss had been shattered, and Emma was not going to allow him another opportunity to relive it.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ Seb said quietly, taking her hand in his own and raising it to his lips. He felt a thrill of triumph when she didn’t pull away, but didn’t push his luck any further.
‘Goodbye, Mr Oakfield,’ Emma said with finality.
Chapter Five (#ulink_88d55f9f-e708-5168-a23f-3e657a842c3c)
Emma hadn’t slept. No, that was a lie; she felt as if she hadn’t slept. She’d lain awake for hours tossing and turning, trying to banish Sebastian Oakfield from her mind. Then when she’d finally fallen into a fitful slumber, she’d dreamt about the annoyingly charming man. This morning she felt frustrated and unrefreshed.
She couldn’t believe she’d let him kiss her. She grimaced and silently corrected herself—she couldn’t believe she had kissed him. There was no point denying that she had been an active participant in the kiss. The worst part was that she’d enjoyed it, and she knew if he’d pulled her into a darkened corner and furthered the embrace she would probably have let him, she’d been so caught up in the moment.
Groaning, Emma buried her face in the pillow. She wished she could erase the past twenty-four hours—then she wouldn’t have ever met Sebastian Oakfield, and she would never have kissed him. Or spent the entire night reliving that kiss.
With an effort Emma threw back the light sheet that covered her bed and crossed over to the window. She looked out over the rooftops of Cairo and her mood lifted slightly. Yes, she might have done the exact thing she’d promised herself she’d never do again last night, but this morning she was waking up in Egypt, the land she’d dreamed about for so long.
Emma rested her elbows on the window sill and watched the hustle and bustle of the street below. Men were pushing carts of produce and women were carrying baskets. She wondered if they were headed to the famous Cairo market. Emma yearned to be down there with them, to follow them through the windy streets and explore this exotic city. Momentarily she wished she were a man. Then she’d be free to wander the streets at her leisure, not waiting for a suitable escort and chaperone to take her to only the appropriate sights for a well-brought-up young lady to see. She wanted adventure and freedom, not to have exchanged the constraints of English society for those of an expatriate in Cairo.
A light tap on the door made Emma spin around and she smiled as the young Egyptian maid called Dalila entered the room.
‘Would you like to get dressed, miss?’ the young woman asked in accented English.
Emma nodded, knowing the hour was already late and she shouldn’t waste any more of the day shut away in her room, ruminating over the events of the previous night.
‘Were you born in Cairo?’ Emma asked Dalila as she slipped the dress over her head.
The young maid nodded. ‘I’ve never left Cairo, miss.’
‘What do you think I should see?’ Emma asked. ‘I know the pyramids and the new Museum of Antiquities, but, as someone who’s grown up in Cairo, where do you think a visitor should go to get the authentic feel of the place?’
Dalila paused for a moment, considering. ‘The market,’ she said eventually. ‘Not the tourist antiquities market, but the real thing. Where we go to buy our food and spices. You’ll see everyone from the poorest beggar to the richest housewife.’
Emma allowed the maid to fasten the back of her dress and cocked her head to one side. She wondered if she could persuade Mrs Fitzgerald to take her to the market. She doubted it, but it was worth a try.
Making her way downstairs, Emma realised the hour was later than she’d first imagined. The Fitzgeralds had both already had breakfast, but the colonel was still sitting at the table, sipping strong, dark coffee.
‘Good morning,’ he said genially.
Emma liked Colonel Fitzgerald, even after knowing him for only a day. He was a kind old man. The previous night he had saved her from embarrassment by rescuing her from Sir Henry’s unwanted advances. And he had offered to introduce her to a guide who would take her into the wilds of Egypt.
‘I’m sorry I slept so late,’ Emma said, sitting down at the table. ‘I must have been tired after the journey.’
‘Nonsense,’ he said with a wave of his hand. ‘You are a guest in our house, you can sleep in until whatever time you like.’
He motioned to a young man who darted from the room and within seconds returned with plates of food balanced on his arms. He set them in front of Emma with a flourish and she inspected each dish in turn.
‘We can have the cook make you something more English if you prefer.’
Emma shook her head. Everything looked delicious; she didn’t know where to start.
‘This here is flat bread, served with a bean, onion and tomato dip. Or if you prefer something sweet, the honey and nut pastries are delicious.’
The Egyptian footman returned with a steaming cup of strong coffee and placed it on the table. Then he melted into the background, allowing Emma to make a start on the feast in front of her.
‘What are your plans for today, my dear?’ Colonel Fitzgerald asked after a few minutes.
Emma took a sip of coffee before speaking.
‘I’m not too sure. Mrs Fitzgerald kindly said she would take me to see the pyramids next week. Possibly the Museum of Antiquities.’
Colonel Fitzgerald nodded in agreement.
‘A very interesting place. However, I was thinking we might take advantage of the fact that Mrs Fitzgerald has a charity meeting arranged, so we could organise for that guide to take you deeper into rural Egypt.’
Emma’s eyes lit up immediately. She could feel her pulse quicken at the prospect of exploring Egypt properly, with just a guide for company, discovering long-abandoned temples and following in the footsteps of the Ancient Egyptians.
‘He might take a bit of persuasion—he can be a stubborn man when he wants to—but I’m sure you’ll be able to convince him to be your guide.’
Emma was imagining a weathered old Egyptian who knew every inch of his country.
‘And if that doesn’t work, you can remind him he owes you his life.’
Emma frowned. She opened her mouth to question Colonel Fitzgerald then promptly closed it again. Sebastian. He was talking about Sebastian Oakfield. The man who had rendered her senseless with just one kiss. There was no way she could spend a week with him. Who knew what would happen?
Silently she admonished herself. She was stronger than that. Granted, she had allowed the man to kiss her on their second meeting, but now she was savvy to his charms. She would recognise the fiery look in his eyes and that seductive smile and she would put a halt to any further kisses.
Emma gave a tiny nod. She might have fallen for Sebastian Oakfield’s charm once, but she wouldn’t do it again. Her life had already been ruined by one man who had convinced her kissing and intimacy weren’t wrong; she wouldn’t make the same mistake.
‘We must make sure Mrs Fitzgerald doesn’t get wind of your plans. She’ll crucify us both if she thinks I’ve let you go off unchaperoned into the desert.’
Emma felt herself smile weakly. Maybe Mrs Fitzgerald would have a point.
‘Of course I wouldn’t let you go off gallivanting with anyone. I know Mr Oakfield would do anything to protect your virtue. He’s a good man.’
Emma wanted to ask the colonel to expand on this information but didn’t want to seem too keen.
‘He’s helped me out of one or two scrapes myself,’ Colonel Fitzgerald continued. He lowered his voice before saying more. ‘There was one mission for the army Oakfield assisted us with. A group of bandits had kidnapped the daughter of a very important visitor. Oakfield guided us to their camp in the desert and rescued the girl himself. He’s a handy man to have around in a crisis.’
Emma sensed there was more to the story, some further reason Colonel Fitzgerald trusted Mr Oakfield completely.
‘What’s more,’ the colonel continued, ‘the girl became infatuated with him. Kept throwing herself at him. Oakfield didn’t bat an eyelid. One of the most trustworthy and upstanding men I know.’
Emma thought about their kiss on the balcony and wondered what Colonel Fitzgerald would make of it.
‘He really is the best guide as well,’ Colonel Fitzgerald mused. ‘Can’t think of a single other chap who knows the desert better.’
Emma smiled. If he was the best, then he was the guide for her. Her trip into rural Egypt required someone with good knowledge of the country.
‘Then he sounds like just the man.’ She paused, wondering if she should continue. In the end her curiosity won out. ‘What is it that Mr Oakfield does exactly?’ she asked.
The colonel laughed. ‘No one really knows. He acquires artefacts, brokers deals, translates scrolls. He’s a man with many talents.’
Emma pushed a little further. ‘I wonder what brought him to Egypt in the first place,’ she mused.
‘Some family problem, I think. It’s common knowledge he doesn’t speak to his father. I think it all started with a falling out around the time of his mother’s death. Whatever it was, I’m glad he decided to stop here. He’s a good opponent in cards, and a handy man to have around in a crisis.’
A family problem. Bad debts? An illegitimate child? Emma’s mind started throwing out hundreds of different possibilities.
Emma sipped the last mouthful of coffee before standing.
‘When would be a good time to go and see Mr Oakfield?’ she asked.
‘I will be ready in half an hour. Shall we meet at noon?’
Emma ascended the stairs to the first floor. Her room was at the end of a short corridor. Just as she rounded the corner she heard a soft thud followed by a scraping sound. She froze, then forced herself to continue. The door to her room was slightly ajar. She was sure she’d left it closed. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that Dalila or one of the other maids could be inside right now, cleaning the room. Nevertheless Emma found that her hands were shaking as she pushed open the door.
A figure clad entirely in black flowing robes froze as she entered the room. Emma gasped in shock, all the breath leaving her body in an instant. She tried to scream but found the muscles in her throat had seized up. Instead of an ear-splitting scream a tiny croak escaped her lips.
Instantly the figure was on his feet. With a final glance around the room he vaulted over the small table and out of the window.
Finally galvanised into action, Emma rushed to the window just in time to see her mysterious intruder disappear around the corner.
In shock, Emma sank onto the bed and felt her hands start to shake. She hadn’t managed to get a good look at the intruder—the baggy robes had disguised his build, and all but his dark eyes had been covered on his face—but she knew she’d recognise those eyes if she ever saw them again.
Once she had regained a little of her composure she contemplated calling one of the servants, but quickly dismissed the idea. She knew exactly what the mysterious intruder had been searching for, and luckily she had had the forethought to tuck it into a concealed pocket in her skirt before breakfast. Informing the household of the intruder would just open her up to questions of what he could have been searching for.
Emma’s hand closed around the small scroll in her pocket as she reassured herself it was still there. This was her father’s most treasured possession, and he had bequeathed it to her on his deathbed. For years he had studied the scroll, making notes on the accompanying pieces of paper, deciphering the ancient language and piecing together a location from the obscure references. Emma had wondered whether he had planned one final trip to Egypt before he died.
Quickly she stood and straightened out the room. The intruder hadn’t made much mess—there were just a few papers to be straightened and the sheets on the bed to be smoothed.
After a couple of minutes she looked around the room with satisfaction; no one would know anything untoward had happened here.
Grabbing her parasol and closing the door to her bedroom behind her, Emma realised the incident had made it even more imperative that she find a suitable guide quickly. She didn’t want to put the Fitzgeralds in danger. So if that meant begging Mr Oakfield to be her guide, well, she would have to swallow her pride and do just that.
Chapter Six (#ulink_690f6dfe-db4a-58f2-916d-590e6f7da150)
Seb whistled while he worked. He was in a good mood: he’d found a buyer for his latest acquisition, and today some scrolls he had been waiting for had been delivered to his office. Everything in life was going smoothly.
Well, almost everything. There was the small issue of Miss Emma Knight, the petite Englishwoman who seemed to have bewitched him during their first meeting. Sebastian was a man of the world; he’d flirted and kissed and shared intimate nights with a good number of women. The encounters had always been fun but fleeting. Many years ago he’d realised he would never marry, never have children. It was a choice he had made, and one he made sure the women in his life were well aware of before they became intimate.
Emma was not the sort of woman he should be dallying with. She was obviously from a respectable family, and was the sort a man ought to propose to if he compromised. There was nothing on earth that would convince Seb to get married; he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes his parents had.
Therefore the best solution would be to avoid the very alluring Miss Knight so he didn’t find himself seducing her on dark terraces and wishing for more.
An image of his mother flashed into his mind and he stopped what he was doing momentarily. He missed her. He missed her quiet voice and gentle smiles. Every day he wished he’d been able to persuade her to leave his father, to come away with him and start a new life, free from fear of violence in the one place she should feel safe. Sebastian knew he had failed her, knew her death would always sit heavily on his conscience. Silently he cursed his father, and the image of the man he hated most in the world reminded him why getting involved with anyone like Emma Knight was a bad idea.
There was a sharp rap on the door and Seb jumped a little as he was roused from his thoughts.
‘Come in,’ he called.
‘Colonel Fitzgerald is here to see you,’ Tariq, his assistant, announced.
Seb nodded and a couple of seconds later Colonel Fitzgerald entered the room followed by Emma Knight.
Seb tried to suppress a groan. Emma hadn’t seemed the type prone to hysterics, or likely to make a scene out of their kiss the night before, but he had only known the woman for one day.
‘Colonel, Miss Knight, what an unexpected pleasure.’
The colonel smiled. He didn’t look like a man who was about to demand Seb ‘do the right thing and marry the girl.’ Seb liked the colonel. They’d spent some time working together before the colonel had semi-retired from the army, been on missions that had bonded the two men together as only danger could.
‘Please have a seat.’ He gestured to the two leather chairs facing his desk and watched as his guests sat down. Once they were comfortable he sent Tariq to make some coffee then took a seat himself.
‘What can I do for you today?’
Emma wasn’t meeting his eye. In fact she looked more nervous than either of the previous occasions that he’d met her. One hand was twisting the material of her dress whilst the other was tapping out a silent beat on the side of her chair.
‘We need a favour,’ Colonel Fitzgerald said, getting straight to the point.
Seb raised an eyebrow and felt himself relax inside. So Emma hadn’t let the secret of their kiss slip out.
‘What sort of favour?’
Colonel Fitzgerald motioned for Emma to speak. Seb watched as she swallowed, straightened her spine then lifted her head to meet his eyes.
Her gaze was unwavering and Seb felt himself shift under her scrutiny.
‘Colonel Fitzgerald assures me you are the best,’ she said.
Seb couldn’t help himself, he grinned. Emma’s eyes immediately widened as she realised what she’d just said but she ploughed on.
‘The best guide. That you have the best knowledge of Egypt.’
Seb didn’t deny it. He had scoured almost every mile of the country at one point or another. The only places in Egypt he hadn’t been were the bottom of the Nile and a few of the desert villages.
Tariq knocked quietly at the door and set a tray of coffee down on the desk. Silently he poured three cups. Just as he was about to leave Colonel Fitzgerald caught his eye.
‘Might I have a quick word about the latest shipment?’ the colonel asked.
Tariq nodded and waited for Colonel Fitzgerald to follow him from the room.
‘Alone again,’ Seb murmured.
Emma cleared her throat and ignored his comment.
‘I need a good guide, the best, to take me into rural Egypt.’
