In the Eye of the Storm

33. Communication Problems

Captain Carter was a real gentleman. Yes, a real, true-born English gentleman. And I don't just mean that he helped me into the saddle of his own camel when we left the cave, or that he gave me a drink from his water bottle. No, those were just trivialities. A girl can only tell that a man is a real gentleman if he does something very special for her – such as not ask her how she happened to get 'lost' several hundred miles away from her hotel in the middle of a desert cave full of bloody, mutilated corpses.

Now, that's what I call a real gentleman.

I could tell from the way they screamed at Captain Carter, that the captains of the French and Egyptian detachments would have been only too happy to question me on the subject, and maybe encourage me a little if I didn't answer right away. But Captain Carter barked a few clipped words at them in French and Arabic, and they went away, grumbling.

I was burning to know what had happened to Mr Ambrose and the others. But I kept my mouth shut. Captain Carter might, for some unfathomable reason, want to protect me, but I very much doubted he would extend the same courtesy to Mr Ambrose and a few hundred mercenaries. So I mounted Captain Carter's camel and let myself be led back towards Alexandria like a good little girl, all the while nearly bursting with the need to run and find him.

Finally, weeks after we had set out from the mountain cave on the Sinai Peninsula, we saw the houses of Alexandria rising out of the mist.

'What are you going to do now, Miss Linton?' Captain Carter asked from beside me. He had been marching beside my mount nearly all the way, repeatedly gazing up at me with a mixture of puzzlement and fascination. 'Continue your, um... holiday?' One of his eyebrows went up, silently adding: And maybe finding a few more blood-spattered caves to get lost in?

'No.' I shook my head and gave him a demure smile. 'I think I've been lazing about long enough. Time to end the holiday and get back home. I will be leaving on the next ship.'

If he is still here. If he waited for me.

In all probability, he and his ship had left long ago. Knowledge is power is time is money, after all. The marriage sham was over, and he no longer needed to pretend. He wouldn't waste any time for me.

'And your grandmother?'

It took me a moment to understand what the captain was talking about. Then, I remembered the little deaf old lady and the web of lies I had come up with.

'Um... well, she will be coming home with me, of course.'

He frowned. 'Nobody else?'

'No.'

His gaze grew more intense, and he took an abrupt step forward. 'What? The two of you don't seriously intend to travel all the way back home to London alone, do you?'

No, I was actually thinking of travelling in the company of a ruthless financier and three hundred bought cutthroats.

I raised my chin. 'Yes, of course we do!'

'Miss Linton, please! I know your independent views, but I can't let you do this! Two women travelling alone on a ship, one of them an old lady who can't hear and is hardly able to stand? You don't even know whether you can trust the captain, and even if he is an honourable man, anyone else could take advantage of you easily.'

I opened my mouth to protest but, in a totally unexpected gesture, he reached up and cupped my face in his hands. I was so taken aback, my mouth remained open, unprotesting. His hands on my face felt so soft, so strong, and as he looked at me, his warm eyes shone like polished mahogany. 'No sense in arguing, Miss Linton! You are coming back with me.'