As one, they concurred.
When their carriagereached Piraeus and their ship, Elizabeth pressed her face to the window and breathed deeply of the sea air.
She would not miss Athens. The city was nothing less than magnificent, but she disliked the ugly emotions that Helena’s presence had awakened in her. To her shame, she had privately requested that the artist they found draw no images of the woman in her journal. Before they searched the Agora, she reconsidered and allowed the artist free rein.When did I become so petty?Elizabeth was not proud of herself.
Captain Morrison’s call to proceed with the next part of their journey once again energized the ship’s crew.Tommy scampered by and asked what Elizabeth thought of all those old buildings, to which she responded, “There is much to admire in Athens, Tommy.” To herself, she whispered,and much to forget.
TheMary Catherineslipped the moorings and headed into the Sea with Elizabeth standing at the stern as Athens faded into memory.
Wickham’s luckhad finally turned.
Three days earlier, he had been hauling ropes aboard a merchant vessel with bleeding hands and an empty stomach, a desperate sailor working for passage. Now he sat in a well-appointed stateroom that reeked of ink and old parchment with maps spread across every surface like paper wounds. Best of all, he was wearing clean clothing that actually fit and had coins jingling in his pocket forthe first time since Captain Gilmartin had fleeced him at cards in Gibraltar.
Professor Fouché adjusted his wire spectacles and traced a finger along the Mediterranean coastline while his colleague, Professor DuBois, huddled around charts covered in symbols that meant nothing to Wickham. Their French murmurs rose and fell like incantations, punctuated by the scratch of quills and the rustle of ancient texts.
The scholars had found him in a tavern in Piraeus, recognized his English accent, and struck up a conversation that changed everything. When Wickham mentioned that he was following a group seeking a treasure in Alexandria and explained how the initial clue sent them to Rome, they were intrigued. Amazingly, they had come from France to seek the same treasure. And once he told them he was very familiar with members of the expedition, their interest sharpened considerably. A hot meal, a proper bath, decent clothes, and a purse quickly followed, along with passage aboard their vessel.
“Monsieur Wickham,” Fouché looked up. “How did you learn Monsieur Darcy was searching for the great treasure? Are you an intimate associate of his?”
Wickham leaned forward, adopting earnestness that served him so well in drawing rooms. “I met with Viscount Levinson, who gave me a copy of the first clue and informed me that this clue had been shared with two other individuals. They are currently traveling on theMary Catherine. I have closely followed their movements since London. Their first stop in Rome led to Greece, where they must have found the next clue, because they hurried from Athens atgreat speed. Both Darcy and Bennet carry themselves with the confidence of one who possesses knowledge, knowledge they believe will lead them to an extraordinary find.”
The younger scholar, DuBois, tapped his pen against a leather-bound journal. “We, too, believed that clues would be found in Rome and Athens?clues that speak of a discovery that would eclipse the treasures of pharaohs.”
Wickham’s fingers unconsciously curved, imagining the weight of stones larger than robin eggs, their facets catching light like captured stars. The professors had been deliberately vague about the exact nature of the treasure. Perhaps they did not know whether it was gemstones or precious metals, but their excitement was infectious. It could be no less than gold, so pure it would glow like the sunset, emeralds and rubies that would make kings weep with envy. It had to be.
Professor DuBois said, “Your familiarity with this Monsieur Darcy will allow us to anticipate his movements,non?”
Wickham smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. “I know how his mind works, his methods of reasoning. Where he goes, I can predict. What he seeks, I can help you claim first.”
The scholars exchanged glances, and Wickham caught the hunger between them, the same hunger that gnawed at him.
From the corner of his eye, the two burly men standing on each side of the doorway remained silent throughout the conversation. The professors had introduced them simply as “associates”?Marseilles dockworkers, by their look and accent. Wickham suspected their role was more muscle than scholarly assistance.
Fouché rolled up the nearest chart with ceremonial care. “Then we have no need to journey from port to port. Let them go where they need and discover what is necessary to locate the treasure in Alexandria. At dawn, we sail directly to Egypt. There we will await Monsieur Darcy with the final clue that tells us exactly where in Egypt we need to search to claim the prize.”
Professor DuBois agreed. “Yes, we have no need to follow the trail of clues. Our sponsors want only the results, which will be with this Darcy.”
“Sponsors?” Wickham boldly asked.
“Oui.Empereur des FrançaisNapoleon assigned us the task of locating the objects he desires.”
“I see.” Wickham tapped his chin with his finger.Not in my lifetime would I share with anyone, even an emperor.
Through the cabin’s small porthole, stars reflected in the dark water like diamonds spilled from a jeweler’s case. Soon, Wickham told himself, he would be holding the real thing.
30
Later that night, Elizabeth stared out at the dark sea that stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Thick clouds obscured the new moon, vanquishing the stars that had appeared earlier in the sky, leaving the sea as black as her troubled thoughts. The gentle roll of the ship beneath her feet felt oddly comforting after the emotional turmoil of their time in Athens. She could not shake the restless dissatisfaction that surrounded her like the London fog.
They had been sailing for hours since leaving Piraeus behind, yet she still held the uncomfortable weight of unexamined feelings. The easy confidence she had experienced in Rome seemed fragile now, undermined by observing Darcy work so naturally with someone whose expertise far exceeded her own. With her deepening feelings had come an unaccustomed vulnerability she was not sure how to navigate.
“Elizabeth.” His voice behind her was soft, careful.When she turned, he approached with the cautious manner of someone who recognized troubled waters.
“Fitzwilliam.” She managed a smile that was forced. “I thought you had retired for the evening.”
“I could not sleep knowing you were distressed.” He moved to stand beside her at the rail. “What happened in Athens? You seemed to find no joy in a city that should have delighted you.”
His perceptive observance rendered her uncomfortable. Trust Darcy to notice what she tried so carefully to conceal. She struggled with how to describe her petty, contemptible feelings.
