Free Novel Read

The Most Loved of All Page 18


  Chapter 24

  I awoke with a start, certain I’d heard my name being called.

  I smiled sleepily. Of course I hadn’t. I took a moment to enjoy my pleasantly aching body, before I rolled over to embrace my lover. Only to find I was alone in the big bed.

  I sat up, stretched, and gazed around. “Tommy?” Perhaps he had gone to the bath to fetch a flannel to clean us—he was no doubt as itchy and sticky as—but no, no light spilled from the adjoining room. In addition, when I ran a palm over my chest and groin, it was to find myself clean of the residue of our passion.

  Could he have gone to make us a pot of tea? He’d done that before.

  I lay back down, waiting for him to return, and ran an idle hand over the place beside me where he slept. It was cool, cooler than if he’d just risen.

  Moonlight filtering in through the net curtains enabled me to see the clock on the mantel, which revealed it was a little past three. A nagging sensation urged me to recall what I’d been dreaming of when that phantom call awakened me. Tommy, ever the gallant officer, taking those pearls to return them to a man I obviously feared, or at the very least of whom I was wary.

  Suddenly I felt distraught. Could he really have…?

  The sense of urgency grew stronger, and I sprang out of bed and grabbed the first items of clothing I came across—the dress clothes that had been flung aside earlier in the heat of passion. I scrambled into them, although instead of shoes, I stepped into a pair of boots. I dashed down the stairs to the room where Tommy’s brother kept his pistols and rifles. There I found a duelling piece missing. My insides turned to water, and I bit back a moan of panic.

  All right, Sayer. This is no time to play faint heart. I stiffened my spine, loaded the mate of the duelling pistol, and slid it into a pocket. Lady Eugenia had showed me a knife that belonged to Tommy, a gift sent to him from Canada by his friend Warrick. The slim blade folded in on itself and sprang out when pressure was applied to the hilt, and it was kept in an elegant case that I ventured to guess cost as much as the knife itself. I opened the case, observed the silver wolf etched into the hilt, then removed the knife and slid it into my boot.

  My mouth was dry as I let myself out of the stately manor house and went in search of my lover, for I knew as surely as I knew my name was Teremun—

  I froze. God in heaven, what was I thinking? My name was Roddy Sayer.

  Yes. I swallowed. Yes. And I was certain Thomas was in desperate danger.

  The horses were awake when I opened the doors to the stables, and all the stalls were occupied, signalled by the swish of a tail or the stamp of a hoof. All except one—Anubis was gone, and I would have whimpered in distress, but I had work to do.

  Hubini had recognized my step, and was waiting for me when I approached her stall, her ears pointing alertly toward me. I couldn’t take her, however, for she was in foal, and I didn’t want to chance her losing it. Instead I went to George and led him out into the night. Behind us, Hubini gave a muffled whinny, letting me know of her displeasure not only of having her mate removed but of being left behind.

  I went back and spoke to her gently. “Hush, beloved. Danger awaits, and while I know you would trample to death any who chose to harm me or my love, you must remain here for the sake of your baby.” I stroked her dish-face, and she settled down. I hugged her neck, gave her a quick pat, then raced out of the stables to where George was standing impatiently in the stable yard, no doubt having picked up on the urgency I felt. I swung up onto his bare back and kicked him into a flat-out gallop.

  In the time I’d been at Greenbriers, I’d ridden all over the estate and the surrounding countryside. I knew the location of Thorny Walk, knew where it marched adjacent to Smythe land. I headed the chestnut stallion in that direction.

  Lord Carnarvon and Mr Carter had both spoken of the guards Ammon Runihura had surrounding the property, and I was uncertain how I would elude them. This was not exactly the correct hour of the day to be paying a morning call.

  In the end, however, it proved unnecessary.

  They saw me cantering up to the gates and allowed me to enter, unchallenged.

  * * * *

  The guards—all massive men who dwarfed me—said nothing, just led me to Thorny Walk House. I knotted the reins, slid from the stallion’s back, and with a slap to his rump, sent him racing home. Before the guards permitted me to enter the house, they relieved me of Sir Bertram’s pistol. Luckily, they didn’t give me enough credit to have more than one weapon, and they didn’t bother looking for anything more. The knife remained safely hidden in my boot.

  The large front door was opened by another who served Ammon Runihura, and I was ushered into a huge hall that reminded me of Tourneur’s Revenger’s Tragedy: Hell would look like a lord’s great kitchen without fire in’t. It was exceedingly chill, and I looked around, taking note of its sparse furnishings. Was that due to Sir John removing his family’s belongings or to Runihura’s preference?

  Two of the Egyptian’s guards came silently up behind me and stood on either side. There was something vaguely familiar about them, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Have we met before?”

  The one on my left parted his lips, his expression not in the least friendly, and I recognised him, recalled the gap between his teeth, large enough to drive a cart through. He’d been one of the men at the dig. Oh my God, had he been following me all this time?

  “Sorry. My mistake.” I turned away from him.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the guards faded deeper into the shadows that surrounded the hall.

  A follower dressed in flowing robes came to stand before me. “It took you long enough to arrive here.”

  “Where is Captain Smythe?”

  “You will learn of this in good time.” His gaze raked over me, and he sneered. “Give us no trouble, princeling. These men are prepared to take action should you challenge them.”

  “I’m no prince.”

  “Of that I have no doubt, but Lord Khentemsemet thinks otherwise, and who are you to say otherwise?” His sneer deepened.

  “Who are you?” I demanded. Charlie would have sneered at him in return—he had no patience with those he referred to as “foreigners.”

  “I am Touthmosis,” he announced proudly. He waved to indicate the men who gathered behind him. “We, his loyal priests, have waited to keep watch through the vast traverses of time in order to return our high priest to life. All we needed was the Scroll of Thoth, and once it was found, someone to recite the prayers. Now you will be reunited with his Excellency, and all will be as it should have been millennia ago.”

  Touthmosis gestured the men to escort me toward what proved to be the east wing of the house.

  The hallway ended in a brick wall, and they shoved me toward it. I thought my nose was going to be literally put out of joint, but Touthmosis pressed a sconce and twisted it slightly. The section of wall before me slid open, revealing a steep, narrow, winding stairway leading down. Flaming torches were placed every few yards, and shadows grew to gigantic proportions, only to shrink to nothing as we descended.

  The walls had a slimy feel to them, and I touched them as little as possible. The air became fetid and redolent of damp, and I tried to breathe shallowly. And still we descended. How could we still be descending? Were the cellars that far underground?

  Finally we reached the bottom of the staircase, and entered into a large amphitheatre, which had been turned into a replica of the courtyard of the temple of Anubis. A huge black statue of the jackal-headed god stood to one side, while in the centre of the room was a stone altar.

  How had they managed to accomplish this? How was it none of the neighbours had noticed the statue being ensconced here?

  Around the perimeter were cells, no doubt for the priests who once hid within the walls of Thorny Walk House when it had been owned by Papists during the time of Cromwell. Now they were probably used by the Egyptian’s followers, who kept herding me toward o
ne cell in particular. Reluctantly, I let them crowd me forward. Until I could discover my lover’s whereabouts, I was not about to give them any reason to either tie me up or knock me unconscious.

  A short, compactly built follower, also dressed in flowing black robes, approached me. His eyes glittered maniacally, and his bald skull shone in the fitful light of the torches. “So. You are the one our master has been waiting for.” His gaze raked over my frame, and then his lip curled. “A pretty enough boy, but there are many such to be had.”

  I could have challenged him, could have said, “If that is so, how is it I’m the one your master wants?” But until I found Tommy, I thought it best to keep silent.

  As it was, Touthmosis responded for me. “He is the one his Excellency desires, Iahmescu.”

  So take that, you…foreigner.

  Iahmescu pretended not to hear him. “Obey the high priest,” he ordered me, “or it will be my pleasure to give you to his guards.”

  In spite of myself, I took a single step toward him before one of the guards closed his beefy hand around my arm and stopped me. “Get stuffed.” I snarled at Iahmescu. That was the mildest of the epithets I could have hurled at him. Being married to a man who’d been a riverboat captain had greatly broadened my vocabulary. “Where’s Fortescue-Smythe? Bring him to me, and I’ll be more than happy to obey this high priest of yours, whoever he might be.”

  Iahmescu gathered himself in, his affront obvious, but then he curled his lip once again in a disdainful sneer—

  “Touthmosis does it better,” I snapped at him.

  He gritted his teeth and turned on his heel, then gestured for the door to be opened and for me to enter the cell. When I didn’t move fast enough, a hard hand to my back had me stumbling forward. Just before the door closed behind me, leaving me in darkness, I saw that I was not alone. A body was sprawled face down on the floor, the white-blond hair dark, as if matted with blood.

  And then the door clanged shut, and I could hear the key being turned in the lock, but it was as if it was occurring in another lifetime.

  A miniscule amount of light filtered through the tiny grilled window in the door. Beyond its reach I could just make out the motionless body in the deep shadow—the body of the man I loved. All I could think was I had found Tommy, but it was too late.

  Tommy. Pain ripped through me, a living, breathing entity, so powerful it forced me to my knees.

  It didn’t matter now what the Egyptian had planned for me—I had that knife in my boot, and I’d see he regretted the day he’d ever set eyes on me. Afterward…afterward with nothing left for me here on Earth, I’d join my lover.

  I crawled to where his body lay and cradled him in my arms, rocking his lifeless form. Tears slid down my cheeks and dripped onto his face.

  “Here, now, love, don’t drown me.”

  I dropped him and scooted backwards on my arse. “Alive? You’re alive?”

  Now that my eyes had become accustomed to the dimness of the cell, I could better make him out. I dried my cheeks on my sleeve and stared at him stupidly. He angled himself up on an elbow and gingerly touched a hand to his head, wincing as he came across the laceration that had caused his scalp to bleed.

  “Yes, it looks like I am.”

  “You bleeding git! You miserable, sodding, bent bastard! You—” Before I could continue castigating him, he crawled to my side, hauled me into his arms, and kissed me into silence.

  I closed my hands on the material of his shirt and held on, sobs racking my body.

  “I’m sorry, Roddy,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. Don’t carry on so, beloved.”

  “I thought you were dead! I thought—”

  “Shhh.” His mouth came down on mine again, soft, teasing kisses meant to distract me. Finally I dropped my head to his shoulder and tightened my arms around his ribs. He flinched and hissed with pain.

  “What’s wrong?” I released him immediately, and just as immediately, he brought my arms back around him.

  “Your Egyptian gentleman was not happy with me. He had his guards give me a going over.”

  “Which was nothing more than you deserved for doing such an idiotic thing.” I let my fingers trace the lines of his ribs, and he tried to bite back a groan. The fear of nearly having lost him swept back over me, but I was still curious as to what he was doing at Thorny Walk House. “And just for future reference, he’s not my gentleman.”

  “Yes, Roddy.”

  I ground my teeth together. “Why did you decide to meet with Ammon Runihura alone?”

  “I didn’t want you to face that bastard. I saw how…how disturbed you were by him.”

  “So instead you went to face him, leaving me to wake up to an empty bed?”

  “I thought I’d be back before you woke.”

  I ground my teeth together. “Do you have any idea how much that disturbed me? No, just listen to me a second,” I growled when my lover would have interrupted me. “There are forces in effect here of which you know nothing.”

  He rubbed his palm against the stubble that covered my chin, trying to calm me. “Now you’re starting to sound just like Mrs Shelley.”

  “Tommy, I’m serious. Don’t you understand—Never mind.” I decided this conversation was fruitless. “Why’d he have you pummelled? I’m assuming you brought him the pearls, since they weren’t by the bed when I woke up.”

  “Oh, yes. The pearls.”

  “Thomas!”

  “Runihura really believes they have supernatural powers, love. He took great delight in telling me what he planned to do with them.”

  I sighed. “Let me guess. It had to do with him putting them in my arse.”

  “Actually, no, but…That doesn’t bother you?”

  “I’ll kill myself before I let him touch me again.”

  “What do you mean, touch me again? That bugger had his prick up your arse?”

  I rubbed my forehead. “No, of course not. I…I don’t know why I said that. I met him for the first time last evening.” I leaned into my lover’s embrace. “That isn’t important. What did you do to cross him?”

  I could just make out the scowl that darkened Tommy’s face. “The bastard became quite chatty. He nattered on and on, told me he was going to use those pearls to dominate you again—and I don’t know what it is with both of you and again.”

  “It’s hardly important.”

  He made a dismissing sound. “At any rate, he said once he was done with you—”

  “He honestly thought I’d let him put his slimy hands on me?”

  Tommy ignored that. “—he’d strangle you with the pearls. According to him, you’d be a willing sacrifice to his god. I told him Allah doesn’t accept human sacrifices, and he laughed and said he didn’t worship such a young god.”

  “Anubis. He’s a high priest of Anubis.”

  Tommy’s blond eyebrow disappeared into the fringe that covered his forehead, but then he shrugged. “If you say so, love.”

  “And he has the pearls now?” I felt sick. Since entering Thorny Walk House, more and more of the young prince’s memories were coming back to me, and I was only too aware of what those pearls would make me, if the Egyptian forced me to take them once again into my body. Perhaps that was why I’d taken the knife. I’d kill one of us—Runihura or myself—before I permitted it.

  “No.”

  “What?”

  His single eye looked at me with innocence. “Well, you see, old chap, there was a bit of a cock-up.”

  I regarded him suspiciously. “I think you’re enjoying the telling of this entirely too much, Thomas.”

  He shrugged. “Do you want to hear what happened, or not?”

  I scowled but nodded.

  “Very well. He demanded that I give him the pearls, and of course, being an honourable subject of His Majesty, the King, I had to return the property in question. He took great pleasure in informing me of that. But if you’ll remember, they were slicked up. Somehow, when I stepped for
ward to give them to him, they slipped from my fingers to the floor. And I’m afraid I’m such a clumsy oaf, I stepped on them.”

  “Tommy…”

  He dropped the plummy tone and his languid Englishman pose. “Ground the bloody things to powder,” he said fiercely. “It was worth the beating, if only to see the bastard start foaming at the mouth and tearing his hair.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that.” The cords of uncertainty that had been wound around my heart loosened, and I hugged him again. “They’ve truly been destroyed? Thank you.”

  “Er…there’s just one thing about those pearls. Runihura claimed there really was a spell woven into their creation.”

  “I know. Whoever has them inserted into his body belongs to the one who puts them in and then removes them on the point of orgasm. Oh. You needn’t worry about that, Tommy. I know that’s nothing but superstition. Besides, it was only good the one time,” I lied. “You can tell me to leave whenever you want to, and I’ll be gone.” It killed me to say those words. But if he believed in the legend, he’d never believe that I had fallen in love with him long before last night.

  “Well, I had rather…that is…I rather…Oh, bugger it! I liked the idea of having you as my own personal love slave. And I don’t want you to leave. Not ever. Not even if you decide never to have sex with me again.”

  “Why would I do something so foolish?”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Wizard.” He settled his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, groaning as I leaned into a tender spot.

  “How romantic,” a voice sneered from the other side of the door—it was Runihura, peering through the little window, and here was a man who knew how to sneer—and we broke apart. “And how typically English. Remove them.”

  A key sounded in the lock and the door swung open. Half a dozen of the Egyptian’s guards rushed in and hauled us to our feet, dragging us out into the centre of the temple. Three of them restrained me, and at a gesture from the Egyptian, the other three sliced the clothing from Tommy’s body, bound his arms behind his back, and dragged him to the altar, where he was flung face down and secured.