“Agreed,” Rose said, and they both grinned at each other.
It was nice to distract herself from what her next steps with Thomas should be. She had the urge to confess her secrets to Rose, but held back. Thomas was also one of Rose’s closest friends. She didn’t want her in the middle. She would eventually need to decide whether to tell Thomas about Alice. No, she would tell him, she decided. She just needed to find the right words.
“Rose!” Alice said, excited to see her. Lisbeth’s daughter adored her scholarly friend.
*
Thomas sat inone of the saloons of the SS Dipper. The ocean, luckily, had been relatively calm during the trip. The ship’s previous stop had been at Malaga. They’d spent two days there so the captain could resupply.
This wasn’t the nicest vessel Thomas had been on, but it wasn’t the worst. All ships seemed to be undergoing changes of late, marketing to those wanting to take a grand tour. It was a booming business. Benjamin had even proposed to Rose’s club that they might offer to host a few ladies at their excavation site.
Both Benjamin and Rose would be surprised to see him in London. He’d sworn he would never visit the blasted city, but he was days away from doing so. It was all for Lisbeth.
“Are you playing?” Jacob Matthison questioned.
He shook his head. Thomas was playing cards with the man to ease the boredom. Matthison was an engineer of some type. He was returning to work on a building for the Great Exhibition after spending three years in Syria working on wells.
The engineer sighed and tossed his cards down on the table. “We’ve played three days in a row. I can tell when the game isn’t holding your interest. I think we can pass for today.”
Thomas took a sip of his brandy and smiled. “We could sit here and talk.”
Matthison leaned back in his chair. “Are you ready to be in London? I imagine your admirers will be seeking you out.”
He snorted, not believing him. Matthison’s eyes widened. “I don’t think you understand how famous you are.”
“I receive letters, but I doubt it is at the level you are suggesting.”
His card partner chuckled. “I both envy and feel sorry for you. Ladies will throw themselves at you, but you may not be able to escape them. I imagine some of them may be intense.”
His mind flashed to the letters he received. Most were polite, some flowery, but there were a few that made him uncomfortable. Written by ladies who thought they had some type of ownership of him. It didn’t frighten him. They were, after all, young women who wrote to him from afar, but a few he’d found peculiar.
A chuckle escaped Matthison. “I think you are regretting your choice to return to London.”
He shook his head. “Not at all, but I’m not interested in getting to know my admirers.”
“Ah…there is a woman.”
Thomas didn’t deny it. He was returning to London for Lisbeth. He didn’t know what would happen or what that meant, but he was tired of being the Majnun. It was time to go home and claim what was his. A vision of Lisbeth kissing him in Latakia flashed in his mind.
Matthison sighed. “I think I will go enjoy a cigar. You are not your normal talkative self.”
Thomas laughed and stood. “Shall we play tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
He strolled back to his room and pulled out the last stack of letters he had received from his admirers before departingSyria. Would it really be a big deal to London society that he was returning? It seemed so far-fetched. He pulled an envelope with hand-drawn flowers from the pile. It emanated the same distinctive floral scent that was only associated with one admirer. Thomas wrinkled his nose, wondering how much perfume the woman put on her envelopes that the scent always lingered after its journey from England.
He unfolded the letter and read, the hairs standing up on the back of his arms.
Dear Thomas,
I read about your recent find in northern Syria. I can’t wait until it is exhibited somewhere in London. Even though it wasn’t mentioned in the newspaper, I suspect it was a gift for me. Am I correct?
While I love all your thoughtful mementos, I yearn for your return so we can be together. I can’t wait to read in the papers that Thomas Easton has returned to London, because then we can get married.
I know you’re a man and have needs, but I hate hearing about your conquests. That will have to end when you return, or I shall end it for you. You belong to me.
Your ever-patient love,
