Page 10 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)

Chapter Eight

Before

Philadelphia

N aila couldn’t wait to see Basil again the following week for his uncle’s standing Thursday invitation to supper. To her disappointment, Auntie Hamda declined to invite the two men according to schedule.

“ Abe , Auntie, abe ,” Auntie Hamda tsked when Naila casually asked about it.

“Why is it inappropriate?” Naila widened her eyes to look more innocent.

Auntie Majida made a humming sound of disapproval. “Because he looks at you like a lamb he can’t wait to eat.”

“What?” Naila feigned surprise, but secretly she was delighted.

Inglese was clearly interested in her as a woman.

That people around them noticed made it all the more real.

It was flattering but also troublesome. The aunties wouldn’t let Naila out of their sight even more now that they were both convinced her virtue needed protecting.

“ Salam alaykum. ” Eyad walked through the sitting room and stopped to grab a handful of bizzer buteekh , roasted and salted watermelon seeds, which they were snacking on.

“ Alaykum u salam. ” The three of them responded to his greeting. And peace be upon you, too.

“Guess who I ran into at the ice cream shop?” He settled in a chair. “Mr. Linton’s nephew. The one visiting from England.”

Majida scowled. “ Aina baitha. ” He has white eyes. Meaning his eyes widened so much when he looked at Naila that all one saw were the whites of his eyes.

“Please,” she fake scoffed. “He’s an elegant Englishman. I’m sure he has no interest in me.”

After that, Naila developed a craving for ice cream and insisted on going practically every day.

Eyad didn’t mind escorting her most of the time, because he was a true ice cream lover.

If she wanted to see Basil again, and add some amusement to her trip, she needed to force a chance encounter.

After about two weeks of visiting the ice cream shop every day, she finally saw him.

She and Eyad were sitting on a bench in the park across the street eating their frozen treats when Basil appeared and went into the shop.

“This is so delicious,” she said. “I would like another ice cream.”

Eyad frowned. “Another?” She knew her cousin was probably thinking that she was curvy enough but she didn’t care.

“Please,” she smiled beseechingly. “Just this once.”

“A bunch of people just went in there. The line is so long.”

“I won’t ask you to bring me for ice cream again for at least a week. Wallah. I swear.”

“ Yalla. ” He rose. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he disappeared inside the shop, Naila tossed her ice cream out and hurried across the street. She took up a position in a narrow alley outside the ice cream shop and waited. Fortunately, Basil came out before her cousin.

“Hello!” she called out when he walked by.

Basil did a double take when he realized who it was. “Miss Darwish. This is a delight.”

She backed farther into the alley so it would be harder to spot them. She smiled brightly. “Good day.”

He looked around. “Are you alone?”

“No. Eyad is getting me some ice cream.”

“And left you to wait in the alley?”

“No, I was in the park but then I saw you and wanted to say hello.”

“I’m very glad that you did. I was disappointed that Uncle did not receive his customary Thursday invitation to dinner.”

“As was I.” Her heart pounding, she darted a look toward the alley. “I cannot be seen alone with you.”

“I understand. I should like to call on you.”

“That won’t be possible but I will be at the lending library on Cross Street tomorrow at two o’clock.” She purposely chose the time both aunties went down for their afternoon naps. “Perhaps I shall see you there.”

His brows lifted. “Perhaps you will.”

“Excellent.” She needed him gone before Eyad returned. “Goodbye now.”

He paused. “Erm. Good day,” he finally said and continued on his way.

Once Basil departed, she spotted Eyad in the park holding her ice cream and looking around. She crossed over to him.

“Where did you go?” he asked crossly.

“I was looking for the ladies’ retiring room.”

When he looked around suspiciously, she rubbed a hand over her belly. “I think all of this ice cream is causing me some discomfort.”

Eyad, who had no sisters, immediately looked uncomfortable. “I suppose we need to get you home.”

She took his arm. “Yes, let’s go home.”

“You definitely need a break from ice cream.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, grateful that she could finally stop eating ice cream. “Tomorrow, I think I’ll go to the lending library.”

“I did not expect to find you in the architecture section,” Basil told Naila the following day.

“That shows how much you know about me,” she said with a saucy smile.

His heart leapt a little. This girl had a strange effect on him. She looked very becoming in a pink gown that hugged her curves and set off the rosiness in her cheeks. He was unaccountably happy to see her. “I would like to be able to court you so that I could know you better.”

She giggled. “That’s impossible.”

“Why? Don’t you like me?” He knew that she did. Basil possessed enough experience with girls to know when one appreciated the look of him.

“Are you fishing for compliments again?” she teased before lifting her chin. “I like you well enough, but my family will never consent to a foreigner courting me.”

“My intentions are honorable.” Basil hadn’t even realized that he wanted to court this girl, but apparently some instinctive part of him did.

It was the only way to see her, to spend time in her enchanting presence.

Even though courting inevitably led to marriage, and Basil barely knew Naila, the thought of being bound to this mesmerizing girl for life excited him.

“How many girls have you courted before me?” she asked.

“None.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “None?”

It occurred to him that courting in America might not be the same as in England.

She might not understand the seriousness of what he’d just said.

He briefly considered enlightening her but immediately decided against it.

He didn’t want to scare her off, even though Naila Darwish did not seem like someone who was easily frightened.

“You still haven’t said why I should expect to find you looking at books about architecture,” he said.

“Because I am fascinated by building and design.”

“You are?” He had not considered what her interests might be, beyond him, but he found himself wanting to know everything about her. “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, as if the question was ridiculous. “Architecture is functional art. It cannot be art just for art’s sake; it must also be practical.”

He had no idea what she meant but the way her eyes lit up made his heart speed up. “How do you mean?”

“A building has to work, it has to fulfill an important function. It’s everyday art that we walk through and live in and use daily.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I’ve never thought of it like that. To me, a building is shelter and as long as there are windows and a door, I’m generally content.”

“But structures are so much more than that. Each building must reflect the time it was produced in. It’s a living history of its time. It tells us a great deal about the context of the time when it was constructed.”

“Shall we take a walk and discuss architecture?” he asked.

“Oh no,” she said. “I cannot leave the bookstore. My maid is outside. If we want to speak privately, we have to remain inside.”

He frowned. It wasn’t honorable to see Naila behind her family’s back. “I wish I could call on you at your aunt’s house.”

“It’s impossible,” she said with a firm set of her chin. “Now, do you want to spend what little time we have arguing or should we visit the part of the bookstore that reflects your interests?”

His interests? At twenty-two, Basil was still trying to decide what to do with his life. He liked numbers and calculations. It was satisfying when everything added up, but that was hardly as compelling as Naila’s enthusiasm for architecture. “Very well,” he finally said. “Follow me.”

They strolled along the sections until he found what he was looking for. “Ah.” He pulled a book from a high shelf.

She took it from him and flipped through it. “Sailing? You’re a sailor?”

“Not exactly. That’s a book about maritime pursuits. I’m a rower.”

“You like to row people in boats?”

“I was a competitive rower at university. Now I just compete against myself.”

“Do you go out on the water a lot?”

“Every chance I get,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take you one day.”

He registered the doubt in her eyes. She expected to keep their acquaintance small, insignificant and hidden away, a forgotten moment in time, when he wanted nothing more than to walk proudly beside her.

She handed the book to him. “Show me what kind of boat you use.”

“It’s usually a skiff.” He paged through until he found a vessel similar to what he used.

He went through the pages, showing her the different kinds of boats.

He was very aware of her proximity to him.

He relished the soft inhalations of her breath, the lemony smell of her soap filling his nostrils.

Once in a while her arm brushed against his, and the hair on his arms stood up, the feel of her closeness tingling through him.

Eventually they ended up examining her favorite books. He wanted to know why she liked what she did. It gave him some insight into what motivated her. She pointed out the different elements of varying architectural styles, including her favorites.

“You would love England,” he told her after she pointed out several Elizabethan buildings. “Every old estate looks like one of these styles.”

“That would be something,” she said on a wishful sigh. “But I cannot imagine ever going.”

“If we were married, I’d take you.” He spoke impulsively, without thinking. But once the words were out, he did not regret saying them. “It is my home. I would want to show it to you.”

She lightly punched his arm. “If you keep talking like that, I will have to stop seeing you.”

“Like what?” Most women of his acquaintance were thrilled if a man of good family—Basil was distantly related to an earl, which carried a lot of capital back home—and moderate good looks showed a serious interest in them.

“We can only ever be good friends,” she said firmly. “I am here just for a few weeks and then I must return to New York and my real life, where certain things are expected of me.”

“What sorts of things?”

“I am expected to marry a boy from my community.”

“Why?”

“It’s too much trouble to explain,” she said with a wave of her hand. “For these few weeks, let us resolve to have fun.”

He was quickly coming to the realization that he might want more than a few weeks with this gem. But she was obviously skittish, so he resolved to go slow and allow her to set the pace of their acquaintanceship.

“Will I be able to see you again?” he asked. “Outside of a bookstore, I mean.”

She smiled. “As it happens, I have a plan.”

Relief poured through him. He very much wanted to see her again. “Would you care to enlighten me?”

“I can meet you the day after tomorrow at two o’clock” was all she would say.

As long as he could see her again, that was all Basil needed to know.