Victoria Alexander - The Lady Traveller's Guide To Deception With An Unlikely Earl

“Indeed I am. It has been some time since I was last there.”

“How long?”

“Quite some time. Years, in fact.”

“How many?”

“A number of years.”

“Specifically?”

“Specifically? Come now, Mr. Armstrong.” She shook her head in annoyance. “It’s obvious that you are trying to solicit information from me although I must say you are not especially good at it.”

His brow furrowed. “Was I that obvious?”

She cast him a disbelieving look. “Yes.”

“Not subtle, then?”

“Not even a bit. Subtlety, Mr. Armstrong, is an art.”

“One I apparently need to work on.” He paused. “Although soliciting information was really not my intention. I intended nothing more than idle conversation, the same as one would have with any fellow passenger. The kind of thing people do when they’re sharing a sunrise and becoming better acquainted.”

“I have no desire to become better acquainted and we are not sharing a sunrise.”

“Oh, but I believe we are.” He nodded toward the east.

“Regardless, as your declared purpose is to prove me disreputable, I am not inclined to share even the most innocuous detail with you. Furthermore, you did say that for the length of the sunrise, we would ignore the dispute between us.”

He grinned, he couldn’t seem to help himself. “I believe the sun is now fully up.”

“Then there is no need for me to remain and be plied with champagne,” she said in a lofty manner.

He nodded and reached over to top off her glass. “No need at all.”

“It is, however, excellent champagne.”

“I can afford excellent champagne.”

“Do you have a great deal of money?”

“Enough.”

“But you haven’t always had money.” She studied him curiously. “You said on your first trip you had the best champagne you could afford.”

“True.”

“But you are now a wealthy man. Did you make your fortune in Egypt?”

“Now you too are trying to solicit information.”

“What a shocking coincidence.” She smiled pleasantly. “But it does seem only fair.”

“Very well.” He thought for a moment. Her queries were fairly harmless. “The response to your first comment is yes and the answer to the second is no.”

“Oh.” She considered him thoughtfully. “Mr. Corbin said you were well-known among Egyptologists and yet I have never heard of you.”

He bristled. “Have you heard of every Egyptologist?”

“Yes.”

“Surely not.

She raised a shoulder in an offhand shrug.

He stared. “You’re extremely outspoken, Mrs. Gordon.”

“Am I?” Surprise widened her eyes.

“Indeed you are.”

“Oh.” Her brows drew together, then her expression cleared and she cast him a brilliant smile. “Thank you.”

He shook his head in confusion. “For what?”

“For your assessment of my nature. I’ve never considered myself to be outspoken. I’m really quite flattered. You did mean it as a compliment, did you not?”

Why not? “Of course.”

“You do not lie well, Mr. Armstrong. It’s good to know.” She nodded. “But you do have my thanks for the champagne.” She leaned closer in a confidential manner and the merest hint of a scent at once exotic and welcoming wafted around him. “Did I tell you that I am not at all used to champagne?”

“Not directly but I suspected as much.” He bit back a grin. “Although I do find it difficult to believe that the celebrated Mrs. Gordon is not used to champagne.”

“Nonsense, I’m not the least bit celebrated. A bit well-known perhaps.”

“You are the Queen of the Desert after all.”

“Well yes, there is that.” She sipped her wine. “I do try to be circumspect.”

“But you are a member of the Antiquities Society.”

“I have not yet had the opportunity to attend any of the society’s gatherings. And if your uncle has his way, I never will.”

“Why not? The society is most prestigious.” So prestigious, it had never offered him membership.

“And membership is a great honor but I am far too wrapped up in my work to frequent social gatherings.”

“What? No literary society fetes? No grand balls in your honor?” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “I daresay I expected more from the Queen of the Desert.”

“I am sorry to disappoint.” She frowned. “And you needn’t keep calling me that.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Not especially.”

And wasn’t that interesting? “If you’re not indulging in London society, how do you spend your time?”

“I write, Mr. Armstrong. I have no time for anything else.” She pinned him with a firm look. “And what do you do? Other than play errand boy for your uncle. Which does seem to me to be the mark of a man with nothing else to do.”

“I have a great deal to do,” he said staunchly.

“For example?”

“I have not been back in England for very long. I have any number of ideas as to how to spend my time. I am simply trying to decide my next course.”

“Come now, Mr. Armstrong,” she said skeptically. “You’re the wealthy nephew of an even wealthier earl. You have no need to do anything productive at all.”

“A life of boredom is no life at all.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She tilted her head and studied him. “How long since your last trip to Egypt?”

“It’s been some time.” He grinned. “Quite some time.”

“Why did you leave Egypt?”

“Why did you?”

“I believe you’re hiding something, Mr. Armstrong.”

“Yet another coincidence, Mrs. Gordon. I know you’re hiding a great deal.”

“Do you?” She considered him for a long moment. A slow, decidedly wicked smile curved her lips. Her exceptionally fetching lips. “This should be fun, Mr. Armstrong.”

“Fun?” His gaze slipped to her mouth. He suspected her definition of fun at the moment and his were decidedly different. He cleared his throat. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh my, yes.” A definite glint of challenge shone in her eyes. “There is nothing more fun than putting an arrogant man in his place.”

“Then the game is afoot, Mrs. Gordon. And you’re right.” He leaned in, trying to ignore her scent, the long length of her lashes, the distracting nearness of her. “It will be fun. Although I have no doubt as to the ultimate winner.”

“Nor do I, Mr. Armstrong.”

His gaze meshed with hers and for a moment something one could only call awareness sparked between them. Not what he expected. Or wanted. But then Harry Armstrong had always been willing to adapt to new circumstances.

“There you are,” a female voice sounded behind him. Before he could turn, someone short and determined nudged him out of the way as efficiently as a collie cutting a sheep from the herd, and Mrs. Gordon’s band of determined elderly watchdogs surrounded her.

“Good day, Sidney,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said brightly. “And Mr. Armstrong as well. What a lovely surprise.”

“And greeting the new day with champagne.” Lady Blodgett cast an assessing eye at the bottle in his hand. “I never would have thought of such a thing but it is a charming idea.”

“And how very thoughtful of you.” The dragon plucked the bottle from his grip and smiled innocently. “Only one glass?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sidney said with a shrug.

“Then there’s nothing to be done about it.” The dragon shook her head reluctantly. “We shall simply have to adjourn to Mrs. Gordon’s stateroom and request additional glasses from the charming Mr. Gilmore.”

Mrs. Gordon bit back a grin. Why shouldn’t she smile? She had invaded his solitude—he ignored the fact that she had already been on deck when he arrived—commandeered his tradition and was now absconding with his champagne.