Page 53

A Proposal

A few minutes later

Pacing across the hotel lobby, Thomas listened intently for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. His meeting with the earl had gone better than expected given how the evening had ended the night before.

Apparently the Earl of Everly had been too deep in his cups to remember he had discovered Tom in Lady Helen’s hotel room the night before.

Or maybe he remembered and had decided it was an opportunity to see to it his three-Seasons-out daughter was finally betrothed.

Whatever the reason, the earl had assured him he would draw up a marriage contract and grant Tom the dowry he had arranged for his daughter.

“I’ll set it aside for her and our children,” Tom had assured his future father-in-law. “Should something happen to me.”

The look of appreciation Harold Tennison displayed showed through the obvious discomfort of the hangover he was experiencing. “Good man,” he had said.

The two had shook hands and the earl had taken his leave, promising to send Helen to meet with him.

Tom glanced around. Was a hotel lobby in Luxor, Egypt really the appropriate place in which to make his marriage proposal?

He had half a mind to escort her to the nearby ruins of the temple and either stand in front of the statues of Amun and Mut or find a three-thousand-year-old column next to which he could make his promise of eternal love and affection.

Was it though? Eternal love and affection? If for the rest of his life he felt only half of what he had that morning, when he had awoken to the thought he might find Helen snuggled up next to him in his bed, then he was sure she would own his heart for eternity.

If he did propose somewhere in the Temple of Luxor and did so before the afternoon hours, they could be assured of some privacy.

At least privacy from fellow tourists and explorers. As for anyone else—or anything else—there were plenty of standing structures behind which they could hide.

The thought that some linen-wrapped mummy might pay witness to his proposal and haunt them for the rest of their lives had him thinking he might have to amend his plans.

The sound of a soft cough and the words, “Father said you wished to speak with me,” pulled him from his reverie.

Tom whirled to discover Helen regarding him with curiosity.

How had he missed her arrival? She managed to look resplendent in a gown he hadn’t yet seen her wearing on this trip, one that would put shame to what any of the wives of the pharaohs might have worn back in the day.

Even if their gowns had been as form-fitting as what was depicted in the hieroglyphics on temple walls, accentuating their bosoms and hips, they weren’t nearly as snug as the bodice of Helen’s gown.

The thought of cupping her breasts in both his hands had him swallowing and clearing his throat before he could remember what she had said.

“I do,” he replied. “But… not here, I think,” he stammered.

She glanced in the direction of the front doors, where the reflection from the morning sun danced on the smooth waters of the Nile. “Perhaps you would like to take a walk along the waterfront?” she suggested.

He nodded. “I would,” he agreed, not having considered the Nile as a backdrop for his proposal. Offering his arm, he grinned when she glanced up at him with the same expression he remembered from the night before. “Did you sleep well?”

She giggled softly as she placed her arm on his. “I admit to having tossed and turned a few times.”

“Because of me?” he asked, momentarily thrilled that she might have been thinking of him at the same time he was thinking of her.

“Of course, because of you.” She audibly sighed as they reached the well-worn path along the east bank of the river.

In the distance to the right, the columns of the temple glowed a golden yellow, the morning sun well above the opposite bank of the river.

“I admit to hoping you might return for...” Here she visibly reddened.

He swallowed. “For...?” he prompted.

“Another kiss,” she whispered.

“I wanted to,” he said, his chest puffing out at hearing her admission.

“Mayhap... more?” she pressed.

Nearly stopping mid-step, he made an odd sound in his throat. “More?” he repeated, his voice sounding strangled to his ears.

She seemed to think better of her query. “I knew you wouldn’t, of course. You’re far too honorable to have taken my virtue before settling affairs with Father,” she said, her head falling to one side as she glanced up at him.

“Do you find fault with my honor?”

She quickly shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, I find it refreshing in a man of your age.”

He regarded her with a quirked brow. “The young bucks in London lack honor, do you mean?”

“Some do,” she acknowledged. “There are some who would ruin a young woman merely for sport.”

Making the odd sound in his throat again, Tom frowned. “Is there someone I need to hunt for sport?” he asked, his manner conveying his sudden anger.

Helen inhaled sharply. “Not for me,” she replied. “My older brother has obviously seen to deterrents on my behalf.”

“As he should,” Tom replied, his momentary anger quickly dissipating. Deciding they were far too exposed so close to the river, he led them onto a path that fronted the temple grounds.

Given how most of the Luxor temple seemed half-buried in sand and debris, it was difficult to imagine what it might have looked like when it was first built.

“The symmetry is all wrong here. The missing obelisk is far too obvious,” Helen said, reaching up to trace one of the carvings on the side of the remaining obelisk with a gloved fingertip.

“It is,” Tom acknowledged. “Back in 1830, the Egyptian ruler Mohammed Ali Pasha had them both gifted to France. One was removed and shipped off to Paris, but I rather doubt they will ever come back for the second.”

“Why ever not?” She placed her hand back on his arm, apparently oblivious to the red stain left on her glove.

“Blunt. Diana said it cost two-and-a-half million francs to pay for the dismantling, shipping, and re-erection in the Place De La Concorde. The French had to pay for the relocation, of course.”

Helen gasped. “So, not exactly a gift,” she murmured.

He nodded his agreement as they passed through the wide opening in the pylon.

The pair of carved busts of the pharaoh Ramesses II flanking the opening appeared far different in the morning sun than they had the afternoon prior.

He tried to imagine what they looked like below ground, but without an image or drawing to use as reference, he couldn’t.

A third torso topped the sand off to the right side of the pylon, its base still buried in the mound of sand fronting the pylon.

Leading her along the well-worn path into the temple, where sand had drifted to surround the base of most of the columns, Tom paused in between two columns along the grand colonnade where the bases were mostly exposed.

He moved to stand in front of her and dipped his head.

“You are right when you say I would not have done such a thing as attempt to take your virtue,” he said, returning to their earlier conversation.

Despite the lack of a roof above, the spacing of the columns made the area seem closed in. Intimate.

Her eyes rounding at hearing his claim, Helen appeared disappointed. “But... were you... thinking about it?” she asked, hope sounding in her voice.

He barked a laugh but quickly sobered. “I fear I am not as honorable in my thoughts as I have been in my actions,” he admitted sheepishly. He swallowed again. “Actually, I have thought of it many times,” he admitted. “What it would be like to... to lie with you.”

For a moment, he wished he hadn’t put voice to his thoughts, but now that he had, he was desperate to learn her feelings. What if she didn’t feel affection for him? What if she had changed her mind since the kiss they had shared the night before? “Have I shocked you?” he asked.

“Not as much as you fear, I think,” she replied, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “Have you had these thoughts since… since we were in Cairo?” she pressed.

Reaching out, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her against the front of his body, relieved that she allowed the impropriety. “Since the Morganfield ball, actually,” he stated, as he rolled his eyes.

“Thomas,” she said softly, a brilliant smile lighting her face. She rested the side of her head against his chest.

“I cannot help it. I rather enjoyed that kiss. I thought of it often whilst I watched my cousin Donald with his new wife, and now when I see how Randy is with Diana, well, I think I should like to start and end my days with such a kiss. With you.”

Helen pulled her head away from his chest and angled it to one side. “Only at the start and end of each day?” she gently teased.

His gaze darted to one of the columns, its capital carved into the shape of a papyrus bud and its smooth surface a testament to the erosion caused by centuries of wind and sand. “Well, we could kiss in the middle of the day, too,” he replied. “If you’d like.”

“Mayhap before dinner?”

“Oh, I’m quite sure that could be arranged.”

“And now?” she whispered.

He lowered his forehead to hers. “Only if you agree to marry me,” he said. He suddenly squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, that was a terrible proposal,” he complained. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Helen giggled and lifted a hand to the side of his face. “Kiss me, and I’ll allow you to try again.”

He chuckled softly and barely touched her lips with his.

The tentative nature of the kiss continued, their breaths held until he pressed harder.

When she parted her lips, he took it as an invitation to press his firm pillows harder against her softer, fuller mouth.

He slid his tongue between her lips, the tip brushing along the bottom edge of her teeth.