Only You (13 page)

Y
ou were walking with
Mr. Grey.”

Theo peered over at Susan and said, “Yes, after supper.  What of it?”

“What if Mother had seen you?”

“Then I’d have had to sit through another scolding in a long line of what has to be a thousand scoldings from her.”

“Is he courting you?”

“Mr. Grey?  Courting me?”

Theo laughed, and she had to laugh, or she might break down and weep.

She’d let herself become smitten, so she was courting catastrophe.  She’d once told Soloman—should she be caught in another compromising situation—her father would lock her away in a convent or an asylum.  Fathers did that to their recalcitrant, disobedient daughters all the time.

She was in Egypt to improve herself, to calm herself and reflect on why she must never repeat her transgression.  But then she’d met Soloman Grey, and despite the dangers, she couldn’t force herself to behave.

She’d had such a sheltered upbringing before going to London that she’d never learned what other females seemed to instinctually know.  Passion was addicting.  Desire was amazing and exhilarating.  She was desperate to be alone with him again, desperate to have him demonstrate more of the illicit conduct on which he thrived.

“No,” she firmly stated.  “Mr. Grey is not courting me.  He’s a confirmed bachelor.”

“If he changed his mind and decided he’d like to wed, would you be interested?”

“I doubt it.  He’s had a hard life, and he’s been on his own forever.  It would be difficult to wedge myself into his world in a way that didn’t infuriate him.”

“He’s very handsome,” Susan said.

“He definitely is.”

“And very manly.”

“He’s that too.”

Susan smirked.  “You don’t sound like an unbiased party.  I predict—if he proposed—you’d leap at the chance to accept.”

Theo sighed.  “Don’t pester me about it.  You make me remember why I was banished to Egypt.  Considering my trouble in London, I’ll likely never marry, and it saddens me.”

“You don’t believe any man will ever want you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Scandals fade, Theo.”

“Some scandals don’t.  Look at Mr. Grey’s.  It’s been a decade and people still talk about it constantly.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be luckier than he was.”

“How will I be?”

“You were just in the wrong dark parlor.  You didn’t kill anybody.”

“He didn’t kill anybody either.”

“He discussed it with you?  You’ve grown that close?”

“No.”  Theo waved away the notion.  “He simply mentioned it once.  I told him why I was in Egypt, because I felt we had our disgraceful pasts in common, and he explained how some gossip never dies down—even when it’s completely false.”

Theo spun away and stared up at the stars.  They were at the bathing pools Cedric Webster had constructed near the river.  He’d dug several small ponds and had devised a clever set of canals and pumps that pushed fresh water through them.  He’d invited them to use the spot whenever they liked, and in light of how hot it was in the day, and how Theo sweated in her heavy British garments, the pond should have been a welcome treat.

But after her almost drowning in the Nile, she was wary of moving much beyond the sandy shore.  The pool they’d chosen was the most secluded, with dense foliage shielding them from passersby.  It was about ten feet across, with a pretty waterfall trickling at the far end.

There was a stone bench underneath it, and Susan was seated on the bench and dipping her head under the cascading flow to wash her hair.  Theo was just barely in the pool, her legs planted on the bottom, with the water lapping over her thighs.  Though Susan had shown her the middle wasn’t deep, that it was merely up to her chest, Theo wasn’t about to wade out and check for herself.

“You were gone last night,” she casually said, anxious to broach the subject, but not eager to quarrel.

“Yes, I was,” Susan replied just as casually.

“I waited up for you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“When I finally dozed off, it was very late.  I heard you come in, and it must have been a bit before dawn.”

“Yes, that’s about right,” Susan admitted. 

She was very blasé about it, and Theo was shocked by her nonchalance.  There was only one place she could have been.

“Were you with Mr. Price?”

“Yes.”

For a long while, they were silent, with Theo studying her cousin.  She yearned to be smarter or wiser so she’d offer the correct comments.

“What are you thinking, Susan?” she ultimately inquired.  “You can’t assume this is appropriate.”

“It doesn’t concern you, Theo.  Don’t work yourself into a lather over it.”

“What would your mother say?  Have you thought of that?”

“Of course I have.”

“But Susan,
think
.  You’re putting me in an impossible position.  You can’t expect the affair will remain a secret.  This will blow up into a disaster.  I can feel it in my bones.”

“If it explodes into a disaster, it will be
my
disaster,” Susan blithely said.  “You needn’t worry, and I certainly won’t apprise Edna that you knew and didn’t stop it.”

“Oh, Susan, I worry incessantly.  Won’t you reconsider?”

“I don’t want to reconsider.”

“He’s not the best option for you.”

“No one’s asked your opinion, Theo.”

“Are you doing it to spite Edna?  Is that why?”

Susan snorted out a laugh.  “Spite Edna?  I hardly know the woman.  Can you actually suppose I ponder her when I’m making plans?  Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Are you and Mr. Price making plans?  Is that what’s happening”

“If we are—and I’m not claiming that’s what transpired—I wouldn’t announce my intentions in a bathing pool.  I’d proceed in a very public location so I could shout them to the whole world.”

“You can confide in me, Susan.  I wish you would.”

“That’s the problem for you, Theo.  I have no wish to confide in you.  You should simply be aware that I’m cognizant of my choices and I’m happy with my decision.  Please remember that in the coming weeks.”

“What does that mean?  You could be speaking in code.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Susan stood and waded across the pond.  She passed by Theo, donned her robe, grabbed her other belongings, and continued on.  They’d walked over fully dressed and had stripped to their chemises and drawers, being too modest to remove everything.

Theo had presumed they’d dry off, then dress again, and return to their tent together.  As Susan strolled through the break in the ferns that led to the path, Theo called, “Susan, don’t leave me here by myself.”

“You’ll be fine, Theo.  There are no boogiemen lurking in the shadows.”

“But I want to go with you.”

“I’m sorry, but
I
don’t want to go with you.  I have a lot on my mind, and I’ll be busy tonight.  Don’t wait up for me and don’t you dare tattle to Edna.  You promised you wouldn’t.”

She vanished, and Theo sighed with exasperation. 

She’d suspected it would be difficult for them to discuss Mr. Price, but Susan wasn’t a dunce.  She was exhibiting brazen conduct, and there would be grave consequences if she was caught, but she was willing to risk it.  Why?  Had Mr. Price proposed?  Edna would never agree to the match, and if she didn’t, Susan’s dowry would be forfeit.

Had Susan clarified that fact for Mr. Price?  He was precisely the sort of cad who would chase after a girl for her money.  If he was informed that she wouldn’t have any as his bride, would his infatuation suddenly end?

Then again, if Susan had already engaged in marital acts, wasn’t it too late for Mr. Price to back out?  Wasn’t he on the road to matrimony whether he liked it or not?

Oh, she had to tell Edna!  She had to!  Yet she was positive Edna would kill the messenger.  She’d devise a reason to blame Theo for the imbroglio, then Susan would never forgive her.  Their combined animosity would make for a lengthy and exhausting voyage to England.

She pushed herself farther into the pool, keeping on until the water rose up to her waist.

“What to do?  What to do?” she mumbled to the starry sky, when behind her there was a snicker and footsteps.  She whipped around.  “Is someone there?” 

She frowned over to where her clothes, towel, and robe had been, then she leapt up and raced over, kicking about on the sand, but they had all disappeared.

“Fenton!” she muttered, then she shouted, “Fenton!  You get back here right now!”

He didn’t reply, but she sensed him out in the foliage, watching her, silently chortling over his prank. 

When she’d fallen off the boat, Soloman had insisted Fenton deliberately shoved her, but it had occurred so fast that Theo wasn’t sure of the truth, and there’d been no further mischief.  She’d thought Fenton had learned his lesson and would be more careful in the future, but apparently he had no desire to cease playing tricks.

“Fenton, if you don’t return my things at once, I swear—when I find you—I will take a stick to you.  Better yet, I’ll have Mr. Grey handle it for me.  He has a much stronger arm, and I’m betting he’d be delighted to pitch in.”

She heard no sound—except perhaps a pair of feet tiptoeing away.

Soloman was walking down
the path to his favorite bathing pool when a woman murmured his name.

“Soloman.”

The summons slithered by on a breath of wind, just brushing his ear so it might have been a ghost following him in the dark.  He tamped down a shiver as his name was voiced again, a tad more urgently.

“Soloman!”

He peered into the foliage, seeing a pair of big blues eyes gazing out at him from among the ferns.

“Theo?  What on earth are you doing?”

“You will not believe what happened to me now.”

“Yes, I will.  What’s wrong?”

He moved toward her, but she shrank deeper into the shadows.

“Please don’t come any closer,” she said.

“Why not?  What is it?”

“I was bathing.”

“I was about to myself.”

“And…well…my clothes seem to have vanished.”

“Your clothes vanished?”

“Yes.  My towel and robe too.  They were folded in a pile behind me, and then they weren’t.”

“In my experience, inanimate objects don’t trot off of their own volition.”

“Someone giggled and ran away.”

“Fenton,” he fumed.

“Probably.”

“I will skin him alive.”

“I’m not certain it was Fenton,” she hastily declared.

“Don’t defend him to me,” he sharply said.

“I’m not defending him.  I’m simply not sure who it was.”

“You know it was Fenton.  Stop being so gullible.  He could have killed you last time he played a prank.  Should we permit him to continue until you’re seriously injured?”

“It’s just clothes, Soloman.  It’s not worth starting a huge ruckus—and it’s actually kind of funny.” 

He grinned.  “Are you naked?”

“Near enough.”

“Let me see.”

He dropped his towel and soap and stepped off the path, as she quietly scolded, “Soloman!  Stay where you are!”

“I’d really rather not.”

She was attired in her chemise and drawers, the fabric damp and clinging to her skin so it looked as if she was wearing nothing at all.  Instantly, his cock was hard as stone.  He was overcome by such a wave of lust that it almost doubled him over.

Ever since their stirring kisses on the dock the previous evening, he’d pondered her constantly.  He’d searched for her all day, hoping he’d bump into her, but she’d remained conspicuously absent.

In his opinion, they should act on their mutual attraction.  Life was short, and they would only be at the camp for a brief interval.  He never planned to wed, and she had no husband in her future, so it wasn’t as if she was saving all that fussy virginity for a spouse.  Why shouldn’t she toss it in his direction?  He’d be thrilled to take it from her.

“Give me your coat,” she said.

“We’re in the middle of the desert, Theo.  I don’t have a coat.”

“Then run to your tent and bring me a blanket to cover myself.  No, wait.  Don’t leave me.  I can’t bear to be out here alone.”

“Why are you alone?”

“I was with Susan, but I drove her into a snit, and she left without me.”

“Then Fenton stole your clothes, and you’re stuck.”

“Yes.”

“You’d like me to rescue you again.”

“Yes, if you’d be so gallant as to oblige me?”

“I think—considering all the effort I expend on your behalf—that I should get a reward for my troubles.”

“What sort of reward?”

“Bathe with me.”

“Bathe?  The two of us?  In the water together?”

“Yes.  I was just going to wash.  Come into the pool with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s…indecent.”

“Yes, it is.  But it’s also very exotic and very, very enjoyable.”

“Someone might see.”

“Everyone is in bed except us.  There’s no one lurking.”

“Fenton might be.”

“With how he tricked you, I’m betting he’s hiding outside your tent, eager to watch you slither back.”

“And if he’s not?  If he’s out there somewhere and spying on us?”