Page 25

A Most Awkward Conversation

A moment later

Helen’s heart raced as Tom offered his gloved hand. “That’s very kind of you,” she said, stepping up into the hantour and settling into the worn leather squabs. “Will you join me?”

Tom stepped back, his gaze darting to the one in which his brother was about to climb into. When he didn’t see Diana, he bounded into the carriage. “Yes, I suppose I will. Seems Lady Forster is riding with my brother.”

Pressing her bell skirts closer to her thighs to make room for him on the bench seat, Helen watched as he removed his top hat and sat back. “Did you enjoy the tour?” she asked.

He nodded. “Indeed,” he replied. “And you?”

“Very much, as did Bradley. I think he was as enthralled as my father.”

Tom stiffened at the mention of the babe. “He, uh, seems to a be a rather happy baby.”

“Oh, very much. Unless he’s hungry, and then he has no problem voicing his complaint,” she replied. “He’s riding with Mother now and will be asleep before we reach Dashur.”

Tom nodded. “I admit to being rather surprised when we came upon your family in Cairo.”

“The feeling was mutual,” she said. “Of all the places to find others from England...” She allowed the sentence to trail off. “Was Egypt on your original Grand Tour itinerary?”

“It was,” he acknowledged. “Randy insisted we go, but I think David... uh, Penton,” he corrected himself, “He was equally interested.”

Helen dipped her head. “But not you?”

He finally directed his gaze on her and lifted a shoulder.

“I admit to ambivalence. I would go anywhere my cousins wish to go. I certainly don’t regret coming here, although.

..” He used a glove in an attempt to brush some of the desert dust from the knee of his pantaloons. “The sand is certainly troublesome.”

“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “I’m beginning to think all my gowns will have reddish-gold hems by the time we return to England.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Helen considered whether or not she should bring up the matter of their kiss during the Morganfield’s ball. She was saved from doing so when Tom spoke first.

“Will you go back to London directly from Egypt?” he asked. “When we’re finished with our tour?”

She remembered her mother and Lady Bellingham mentioning their respective itineraries when they were in the riad parlor in Cairo. “My mother wants to go to Rome before we head back to England,” she replied, deciding it wasn’t really a lie since her mother had put voice to such a request.

“Not Greece?” he asked in surprise.

Helen inhaled softly. “Oh, I’m sure she’d like to go to her birthplace,” she replied. “She was born on Mykonos. An island in the Cyclades.”

“Have you been?”

She shook her head. “It hasn’t been safe to travel in the Aegean, what with the war between the Ottomans and Greeks,” she replied. “But... I would like to go.”

“We were in Athens before we came to Egypt,” Tom said before he chuckled softly. “That’s where Randy acquired his wife.”

“Acquired?” Helen repeated, giggling softly. “You make it sound as if he bought her at a shop,” she teased.

He scratched the side of his nose. “Found her in a temple on the Acropolis, is what he did. I don’t know if it was love at first sight or if he merely thought it was his duty to provide protection for her, but they do seem to love one another.”

“Indeed,” Helen agreed.

“Although my younger sister?—”

“You refer to Grace?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, his expression conveying discomfort.

“Before we left on this tour, she had begun to adopt the practice of wearing my younger brother’s breeches, much to my mother’s dismay,” he explained.

“So when I first met Diana, and she was wearing them, and I was left wondering what was happening in the world of ladies’ fashion. ”

“For her avocation, it makes perfect sense,” Helen replied. “Perhaps your sister can claim a similar excuse?”

He started to open his mouth and closed it, remembering the night before the decision had been made that four cousins and an aunt and uncle would be departing England for a Grand Tour. The night they had brought in the last of the harvest before the heavens had opened up and rain poured down.

Grace had joined them in the fields, garbed in George’s breeches and working just as hard as any of the rest of them and the tenant farmers who were employed for the Gisborn fields.

“Well, I doubt she plans to be a farmer,” he murmured, “but should she marry one, she certainly knows what’s required for success. ” For a moment, he seemed awestruck.

“I rather doubt Lady Grace is going to marry a farmer,” Helen commented.

Chuckling, Tom nodded. “Agreed.” His expression suddenly sobered. “She’ll be having her come-out next year.” He scoffed. “It’s hard to believe she’ll be eighteen years old.”

“Her name has already appeared on the list,” Helen said.

“The list?” he repeated.

“The list of daughters of aristocrats available for marriage,” she clarified.

Tom blinked. “Oh.” He frowned. “Are you aware of any young bucks who might have mentioned her name?” he asked in alarm.

Helen hid her amusement behind a gloved hand. “I heard Farringdon has her under consideration,” she said, referring to Raymond Roderick, the oldest legitimate son of the Marquess of Reading.

“Reading’s whelp?” he asked in disbelief. “Farringdon is barely a year older than I am,” he claimed. He scoffed again. “How did they even meet?”

“Who says they have?” she countered. When he turned and regarded her with a questioning stare, she added, “She is not the only one. There are dozens on that list.” Including me , she almost added. Farringdon wouldn’t really consider her, though. She was practically on the shelf.

“Are you still on that list?” he asked, his gloved hands rubbing the tops of his knees.

Helen blinked. “I am.”

He glanced over as if he was surprised to hear it. “Oh.”

She straightened in the squabs. “Why did you say it like that?”

Obviously uncomfortable, Tom dipped his head. “I’ve been away from England for some time. I realize I cannot expect... situations ... to remain unchanged,” he stammered.

Helen furrowed her brows. “Situations?” she repeated.

He nodded.

Suddenly understanding he was referring to her, she blinked several times. “Well, I certainly haven’t been kissed by anyone since... since I last saw you in London,” she stated.

Tom’s eyes rounded. “You haven’t?”

“I haven’t,” she insisted. “And since I am here , I am missing this Season, but...” She sighed. “I don’t mind, really. Thomas, I wouldn’t trade this opportunity to see the world...” She waved to the up-close scene of the Bent Pyramid to their right. “For all the entertainments London has to offer.”

Before he had a chance to respond, the hantour suddenly came to a halt and Omar’s voice sounded from somewhere to their right, his words describing the dark pyramid.

When the carriage resumed its trek to Dashur and their ship, the two sat in uncomfortable silence until they were nearly to the dock.

“I agree,” Tom stated suddenly.

“Agree... with what?” she asked in confusion.

“I wouldn’t trade this Grand Tour for a Season in London.

For... three Seasons,” he corrected himself, as if he just then realized he would have been away from England for that long by the time they returned to British shores.

He chuckled as the hantour came to a halt.

“But then, I’ve never attended one, so I’m not really sure what I’m missing. ”

Helen narrowed her eyes and allowed him to help her down. Before she had a chance to shake out her skirts, Bradley came running up, his arms outstretched.

“Oh, dear, you’re awake,” she said on a sigh.

When she glanced over at Tom, she saw his expression change to what appeared to be one of disgust, and she blinked.

“Thank you for riding with me,” she said, wondering at the sudden change in his demeanor.

She lifted Bradley and settled him on her hip, wincing when she saw how much of the reddish dust had been ground into his white gown.

“You’re welcome,” he said curtly, giving her a slight bow before turning toward the dhahab?yeh .

He didn’t offer his arm before making his way on board.

Sighing in resignation, Helen waited until he had disappeared down the central corridor before boarding.