Laura Martin - Under A Desert Moon

‘We must make sure Mrs Fitzgerald doesn’t get wind of your plans. She’ll crucify us both if she thinks I’ve let you go off unchaperoned into the desert.’

Emma felt herself smile weakly. Maybe Mrs Fitzgerald would have a point.

‘Of course I wouldn’t let you go off gallivanting with anyone. I know Mr Oakfield would do anything to protect your virtue. He’s a good man.’

Emma wanted to ask the colonel to expand on this information but didn’t want to seem too keen.

‘He’s helped me out of one or two scrapes myself,’ Colonel Fitzgerald continued. He lowered his voice before saying more. ‘There was one mission for the army Oakfield assisted us with. A group of bandits had kidnapped the daughter of a very important visitor. Oakfield guided us to their camp in the desert and rescued the girl himself. He’s a handy man to have around in a crisis.’

Emma sensed there was more to the story, some further reason Colonel Fitzgerald trusted Mr Oakfield completely.

‘What’s more,’ the colonel continued, ‘the girl became infatuated with him. Kept throwing herself at him. Oakfield didn’t bat an eyelid. One of the most trustworthy and upstanding men I know.’

Emma thought about their kiss on the balcony and wondered what Colonel Fitzgerald would make of it.

‘He really is the best guide as well,’ Colonel Fitzgerald mused. ‘Can’t think of a single other chap who knows the desert better.’

Emma smiled. If he was the best, then he was the guide for her. Her trip into rural Egypt required someone with good knowledge of the country.

‘Then he sounds like just the man.’ She paused, wondering if she should continue. In the end her curiosity won out. ‘What is it that Mr Oakfield does exactly?’ she asked.

The colonel laughed. ‘No one really knows. He acquires artefacts, brokers deals, translates scrolls. He’s a man with many talents.’

Emma pushed a little further. ‘I wonder what brought him to Egypt in the first place,’ she mused.

‘Some family problem, I think. It’s common knowledge he doesn’t speak to his father. I think it all started with a falling out around the time of his mother’s death. Whatever it was, I’m glad he decided to stop here. He’s a good opponent in cards, and a handy man to have around in a crisis.’

A family problem. Bad debts? An illegitimate child? Emma’s mind started throwing out hundreds of different possibilities.

Emma sipped the last mouthful of coffee before standing.

‘When would be a good time to go and see Mr Oakfield?’ she asked.

‘I will be ready in half an hour. Shall we meet at noon?’

Emma ascended the stairs to the first floor. Her room was at the end of a short corridor. Just as she rounded the corner she heard a soft thud followed by a scraping sound. She froze, then forced herself to continue. The door to her room was slightly ajar. She was sure she’d left it closed. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that Dalila or one of the other maids could be inside right now, cleaning the room. Nevertheless Emma found that her hands were shaking as she pushed open the door.

A figure clad entirely in black flowing robes froze as she entered the room. Emma gasped in shock, all the breath leaving her body in an instant. She tried to scream but found the muscles in her throat had seized up. Instead of an ear-splitting scream a tiny croak escaped her lips.

Instantly the figure was on his feet. With a final glance around the room he vaulted over the small table and out of the window.

Finally galvanised into action, Emma rushed to the window just in time to see her mysterious intruder disappear around the corner.

In shock, Emma sank onto the bed and felt her hands start to shake. She hadn’t managed to get a good look at the intruder—the baggy robes had disguised his build, and all but his dark eyes had been covered on his face—but she knew she’d recognise those eyes if she ever saw them again.

Once she had regained a little of her composure she contemplated calling one of the servants, but quickly dismissed the idea. She knew exactly what the mysterious intruder had been searching for, and luckily she had had the forethought to tuck it into a concealed pocket in her skirt before breakfast. Informing the household of the intruder would just open her up to questions of what he could have been searching for.

Emma’s hand closed around the small scroll in her pocket as she reassured herself it was still there. This was her father’s most treasured possession, and he had bequeathed it to her on his deathbed. For years he had studied the scroll, making notes on the accompanying pieces of paper, deciphering the ancient language and piecing together a location from the obscure references. Emma had wondered whether he had planned one final trip to Egypt before he died.

Quickly she stood and straightened out the room. The intruder hadn’t made much mess—there were just a few papers to be straightened and the sheets on the bed to be smoothed.

After a couple of minutes she looked around the room with satisfaction; no one would know anything untoward had happened here.

Grabbing her parasol and closing the door to her bedroom behind her, Emma realised the incident had made it even more imperative that she find a suitable guide quickly. She didn’t want to put the Fitzgeralds in danger. So if that meant begging Mr Oakfield to be her guide, well, she would have to swallow her pride and do just that.

Chapter Six

Seb whistled while he worked. He was in a good mood: he’d found a buyer for his latest acquisition, and today some scrolls he had been waiting for had been delivered to his office. Everything in life was going smoothly.

Well, almost everything. There was the small issue of Miss Emma Knight, the petite Englishwoman who seemed to have bewitched him during their first meeting. Sebastian was a man of the world; he’d flirted and kissed and shared intimate nights with a good number of women. The encounters had always been fun but fleeting. Many years ago he’d realised he would never marry, never have children. It was a choice he had made, and one he made sure the women in his life were well aware of before they became intimate.

Emma was not the sort of woman he should be dallying with. She was obviously from a respectable family, and was the sort a man ought to propose to if he compromised. There was nothing on earth that would convince Seb to get married; he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes his parents had.

Therefore the best solution would be to avoid the very alluring Miss Knight so he didn’t find himself seducing her on dark terraces and wishing for more.

An image of his mother flashed into his mind and he stopped what he was doing momentarily. He missed her. He missed her quiet voice and gentle smiles. Every day he wished he’d been able to persuade her to leave his father, to come away with him and start a new life, free from fear of violence in the one place she should feel safe. Sebastian knew he had failed her, knew her death would always sit heavily on his conscience. Silently he cursed his father, and the image of the man he hated most in the world reminded him why getting involved with anyone like Emma Knight was a bad idea.

There was a sharp rap on the door and Seb jumped a little as he was roused from his thoughts.

‘Come in,’ he called.

‘Colonel Fitzgerald is here to see you,’ Tariq, his assistant, announced.

Seb nodded and a couple of seconds later Colonel Fitzgerald entered the room followed by Emma Knight.

Seb tried to suppress a groan. Emma hadn’t seemed the type prone to hysterics, or likely to make a scene out of their kiss the night before, but he had only known the woman for one day.

‘Colonel, Miss Knight, what an unexpected pleasure.’