“Seton! You’re hurting me!” Onora recoiled.
His grip eased. “Apologies, my dear. I forget how little you know of the world, without even a mother to prepare you. Butyou are a grown woman, soon to be my wife. The mysteries of the ancients will become familiar to you, along with...other duties.”
She almost flinched as he reached for her cheek though, in contrast to his former rough handling, this caress was more tender.
“Ah yes, you shall do very well indeed.”
CHAPTER 12
Late that night
Once Madame Auvray’s maid had helped her undress, Onora observed through the voile curtains, waiting. The men were seated in the courtyard, lingering over cigars, but when they’d drifted away to their beds, she slipped out. Avoiding the garden’s main path, she walked where the planting was dense. Not that she expected anyone to be following her; the hour was far too late for that.
The breeze shivered the palm fronds as Onora approached the water, and light fromthe low-hung moon rippled silver on the slow-flowing river. The night air was fresh, the stars violently bright, and it was a relief to be alone, with no small talk to make or smiles to give, away from her aunt and the others.
Away from Seton.
How long had she been having second thoughts about this marriage? Since their journey south from Cairo, or before? Thinking back, even some of his letters had made her feel uncomfortable, but she’d pushed those feelings aside, knowing that she shouldn’t judge until they met in person again and she came to properly know him.
Her younger self, in the days before her father’s death, could not be trusted for any opinion. Seton was a great deal older than herself but, by any standard, he was handsome; the silver at his temples added to that attraction.
Instinct told her to fly. The hourglass was not yet empty, and she had means of support, if she werecareful with her father’s legacy. She might never marry at all, but there would be compromises.
Seton’s wealth and position would guarantee a certain lifestyle, and enable her to remain in beloved Egypt—although even her feelings about that had grown confused. The image of the statue, the goddess Qadesh, fearsome and alluring, troubled her.
Those eyes!
Seton had been transfixed.
What was it she was really afraid of? Not a statue, surely? Nor Seton…for she couldn’t believe he would truly harm her.
Through dinner, he’d been solicitous, affectionate even. Aunt Clodagh had recovered her spirits and joined them, narrating a lively tale of her encounter with the cobra, including the valiant assistance of Mr. Jack Balfour.
That man!
He was irritating in the extreme, but he’d been there twice when she’d needed him. He really wasn’t bad to look at either, if you didn’t mind a man having dust in his hair and a physique that betrayed him indulgingin more labor than was fitting for a gentleman.
She’d noticed, too, that his hands bore callouses. How would it feel to have him place those hands on her waist, firm and strong?
What if he did more than span my waist?
Her mind indulged in fantasy…imagining them in his tent, Jack Balfour undressing her, his gaze languid with desire. Dipping a cloth in a bowl of cool water, then caressing her neck, her breasts, the curve of her hip. Kissing his way across the landscape of her body, sinking to his knees as he pressed his mouth to her belly. His hands, cupping her behind.
An ache took hold, demanding that she touch herself, to push her fingers inside, to…
“It never grows old, does it?” A masculine voice tore her from the reverie. “I could look upon this sight for an eternity and still gape at its beauty.”
Jack Balfourwas standing right there.
“It flows through old hush'd Egypt and its sands,
Like some grave, mighty thought, threading a dream.”
Heat rushed up Onora’s neck. Defensively, she crossed her arms. She was, at least, wearing the thicker of her two dressing gowns. “I beg your pardon?”
He cast her a sideways glance. “The awe and mystery of the Nile. Leigh Hunt’s poem sums it up perfectly. That great unstoppable force, surging onward, bringing life to the land. I take it that’s what you were pondering.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she’d an inkling he was laughing at her.
