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He sent her an innocent grin. “I never thought there would be. Don’t worry about me. I’m quite used to sleeping out in the open. And since your bodyguard seems to have to deserted you, I’ll gallantly position myself outside your tent to protect you from any unwanted intruders.”
“To make sure I don’t sneak off in the night, more like,” Hester countered bitterly.
He leaned back against the low stone wall of the well. “That too. Now, I’m sure you’d like to show your gratitude for my rescuing you.”
He ignored her snort and pointed at the haphazard ruins that littered the hillside. “We still have a few hours left before sunset. Why don’t you show me some nice tombs where I can find a mummy or two? The locals assure me there are plenty left, even if the other grave goods were looted centuries ago. I spoke to a chap named Mehmet on the way here, who said his brother recently discovered the entrance to a new tomb while searching for a lost goat.”
Hester shook her head. “Why do you need to find one yourself? Why not justbuya mummy if you’re so keen to have one? I distinctly remember seeing any number of sarcophagi being offered for sale in antique shops in Cairo.”
“Most of those were simply the decorated wooden cases. The good physicians of London want bodies. And, besides, I was warned against fake mummies in Alexandria. Some unscrupulous dealers use recently deceased convicts, apparently. They cover them in tar, leave them to dry in the sun, then wrap them up in bandages and sell them to unsuspecting tourists.” He straightened and stalked off towards the ruins, his long legs eating up the distance. “No, finding my own is the only way to guarantee what I have is authentic. Come on.”
Hester was tempted to ignore him but then decided she might as well try to dissuade him from his distasteful task. She didnotapprove of removing mummies from their eternal resting place. It would serve him right if he fell into a burial shaft and cracked his handsome head open.
She lifted her skirts and hurried after him. “There are bats inside many of the tombs, you know,” she called. “Some of them are the size of pigeons.”
He glanced over his shoulder and cocked a brow in challenge. “Scared, Morden?”
“Of course not! I’ve learned to deal with all manner of annoying vermin out here.” She paused meaningfully and hoped he caught the insult. “I was merely concerned foryou.”
She heard him chuckle. “It won’t be the first time we’ve ever been in a tomb together, will it? What about Paris? The catacombs? I rescued you then, too.”
“You did not. I knew exactly where I was. You gave me the fright of my life, sneaking up on me like that!”
He chuckled again. “The moment is etched into my memory. The way you clutched at me in fright, you almost leapt into my arms—”
“What rot!”
“Your breasts were plastered against my chest. Your arms were around my neck—”
“If my arms were around your neck, Tremayne, I was trying to throttle you.”
Hester did her best to ignore the uncomfortable flush that heated her face and the thrill of remembered sensation that swept down her body. He was only teasing her. The man just lived to shock. He couldn’t possibly know how many times she’d relived that moment of being in his arms—albeit temporarily—since then. Or how she’d obsessed over their one glorious, unexpected kiss.
They reached the edge of the village and started to pick their way between the domed mudbrick mausoleums and ruined walls of the ancient settlement that covered the hillside. Hester had already explored the area on several occasions, although she’d never done more than peer into the entrances of the many pit graves and necropolises. One chapel she’d discovered had been almost intact, with the most beautiful drawings decorating the walls. Uncle Jasper had thought it dated back to the reign of the Persian ruler Darius.
Tremayne bounded athletically between the huge tumbled stone blocks. The remains of a temple of some sort: twelve palm-columns with stylized tulip-shaped tops lay at odd angles amid the sandy rubble. He glanced back at her, and she reluctantly accepted his outstretched hand to clamber over a particularly large boulder.
His hand was so much larger than hers, long fingered and strong, and she let go as quickly as possible.
“I know you disapprove of me taking mummies back to England,” he said cheerfully, “but it’s hardly a new phenomenon. King Charles the second used to collect the dust from them to use on his skin. He believed the ‘greatness’ would rub off on him.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I’ve also heard of people grinding them into powder to cure all kinds of illnesses.”
Hester made a face. “Ugh. That’s almost as bad as the Ancient Egyptians. You wouldn’t believe some of the things they used as medicine. A bag of mouse bones fastened round the neck, for example, was a cure for bed-wetting.”
Tremayne gave a bemused chuckle. “Pleaseuse that as a conversation starter when we’re back in England. I can’t wait to see the stunned reactions.”
Hester ignored him. “Ingredients were often selected because they came from a plant or animal that had characteristics which corresponded to the symptoms of the patient. So they would use an ostrich egg for the treatment of a broken skull, or wear an amulet of a hedgehog to ward against baldness.”
She glared at the back of Tremayne’s perfect head. He had no need of a hedgehog amulet. His hair was thick and dark, with a slight wave that always made her want to run her fingers through it. Curse him.
She cleared her throat. “They had some very odd notions regarding anatomy, too. The brain was considered relatively unimportant—as evidenced by the fact that it was usually discarded during the mummification process.”
She wrinkled her nose at his broad back. “Actually, they may have been on to something there. I can think of several people whose brains could be removed and one would fail to see a noticeable difference.”
If Tremayne registered her veiled insult, he didn’t rise to the bait. He merely ducked inside one of the small tombs that backed onto the hillside. Hester followed, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darker interior.
