Eden admired Genevieve for her need to rescue every wounded bird. After all, she didn’t know what would have happened to her and the others had Genevieve not taken them under her wing. But she still felt odd about having someone else move to Willoughby Hall to take Lavender’s place. Especially someone who seemed so glum and downtrodden.
“I’ve never been on a ship before,” Mrs. Carlisle admitted, obviously anxious to be doing so now.
“Neither have I,” Eden replied. “But I’m ecstatic to be leaving England for the first time. I can’t wait to see all the things that lie ahead of us.”
Mrs. Carlisle brushed a stray strand of dirty blond hair back beneath her cap and sighed. “I fear that I’m not up to this journey.”
Eden tamped down her irritation, not wanting to add to the woman’s dismay, but she very much feared the same thing. “Why don’t we go up on deck and watch England disappear in our wake? Perhaps it will do you good.”
Mrs. Carlisle shook her head furiously. “Oh, no, my lady. I’d rather just stay down here and unpack.”
“Suit yourself then,” Eden said, relieved that the woman had ignored her invitation. She didn’t want this experience ruined by Mrs. Carlisle’s obvious despair.
She headed above decks to watch their departure and found a secluded place at the rail. Her heart swelled as she gazed out at the receding shoreline.
The steamer’s funnels loomed against the sky, their forms softened by the lingering mist. Eden stood motionless, her heart hammering in her chest.
She couldn’t believe she was finally doing this. Excitement filled her, but also the heavy weight of expectation. Now that her plans were in motion, she must actually prove all her theories. And if she failed...
Well, almost everyone expected her to, so perhaps she shouldn’t worry so much. But she knew she’d never forgive herself if she did meet with failure.
Max approached her, his gait marked by the surety of a military man. There was something different about him now, a change she couldn’t quite place. The years had hardened and weathered him, but she sensed it went deeper than that. He’d been through hell since she’d last seen him, and she wondered if he’d ever open up to her about it.
Would she ever tell him what her life had been like while he’d been gone? Those bad years with Richard?
Perhaps not.
He didn’t say anything, simply joined her at the rail. A little thrill went through her to have him standing beside her as the country of their birth fell behind them. She took a breath, the tang of sea air invigorating, and cast her eyes toward the distant horizon, where the sun rapidly sank.
“The Channel should be behind us by dawn,” he said, perhaps mostly to fill the space between them. “We should reach Gibraltar in four days. Malta in a week, if the wind holds.”
Eden’s eyes tracked a fishing boat laboring in their wake, its crew tiny silhouettes against the gloom. “And after Malta?” Though of course, she knew. She’d traced this journey in her mind a thousand times. She just wanted to keep him talking.
Max shrugged, feigning indifference. “Alexandria. Cairo by train, if the line’s running. There are rumors of floods on the Delta.”
Eden looked at him, searching his face for some trace of the boyish enthusiasm she remembered. He was reserved, yes, but more than that: she felt the invisible, unyielding barrier he had built around himself. She nodded, acknowledging both his words and that wall.
Eden watched England fade into a smudge on the horizon, and her heart ached with a freedom both exhilarating and terrifying. Egypt lay ahead, but so did weeks of shared proximity with a man who’d once occupied a far more intimate space in her life. She wondered, not for the first time, if engaging his services for this journey had been wise.
Still, the comfort of his presence was undeniable—the only fixed point in this vast, sudden expanse of ocean.
Chapter Eight
On their third day at sea, the sky darkened forebodingly, a vast, churning cloud that swallowed the horizon. Eden stood at the porthole of her small cabin, uneasily watching as they seemed to head right toward it.
