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‘I know,’ Lucas replied. ‘I am not concerned he will disappear back to Brazil. I am concerned he will become embroiled in Greybourne’s dubious affairs. I know you promised Edge not to summon Oswald, but if this new husband of yours sees nothing wrong with leaving you in London and wandering off...’
‘Lucas, enough. She gave her word,’ Olivia intervened and Lucas turned his glare on her and threw up his hands.
Sam rubbed a smudge on the paper. She hated causing friction between Lucas and Olivia and she knew he was right, but so was Olivia. It was a small thing, a promise, but as foolish as it might be she felt not honouring it could risk unravelling the frail tapestry of their union .
Patience is a virtue.
Patience was an agonising twisting of her innards. She hated being patient. She wanted Edge to walk in the door right now, tell her Rafe was alive and well and dedicating himself to leek farming and now they could finally...
There she drew a blank. She tried and tried to imagine what her life with Edge would look like. What their home would be like. Somehow in Egypt it had all made perfect, wonderful sense, then faltered on the Lark, recovered thanks to a hammock and a headache, and now it was fading again.
Perhaps she’d been suffering from some desert malady and invented the whole thing. Perhaps Edge had disappeared and would never return. Perhaps he was somewhere suffering from another horrible megrim with no one to help him...
‘Sam... Sam, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.’ Lucas bent over her, his hand on her shoulder. The door snicked shut and she realised Olivia had left them. She bent and stroked Inky.
‘And I’m sorry you and Olivia are arguing because of me.’
He grinned.
‘No, we aren’t. Livvy knows full well I fume when I’m worried and has learned to ignore me, thank God. But she is also concerned. She wants me to stay here instead of going with her to Yorkshire for her brother’s wedding.’
‘No! Lucas...’
‘Calm down, there is no way in hell I will leave her to face the people who humiliated her alone. In fact, I am looking forward to terrorising a few of them and one in particular. But I give you two choices. If Edge, blast his dour soul, has not returned by the time we leave, you either come with us or I set Oswald on to him. Now I’ll go soothe my worried wife and you finish your drawing.’ He glanced at it. ‘Is that Senusret’s temple? Edge must have changed a great deal to agree to climb a temple and act as model.’
Sam squinted at the figure.
‘It isn’t Edge. It is Gabriel, from the Desert Boy books.’
‘Looks like Edge to me. I wonder if he will be flattered to feature in a romantic novel?’
‘I doubt he will even look at it. He didn’t show any interest in the books.’ That stung. After their reconciliation aboard the Lark she’d shown him her copies of the first two books, but he’d changed the subject very effectively, making her forget until quite a bit later he hadn’t even looked at her illustrations.
‘Then he has changed,’ Lucas said. ‘He used to read aloud to Janet and Mama every night. I think he enjoyed it as much as we all did. Remember? You would lie on the mastaba staring at the ceiling and making shapes with your hands as he read and when he dared stop you would bark out commands that he continue as if you were the Khedive himself.’
Sam laughed.
‘What a nuisance I was.’
‘Yes, you were. Managed us all like a little field marshal. Now that I think of it, Livvy should be grateful to you—I think it was all that practice being manoeuvred by a pint-sized dictator that made it so easy for her to order me about.’
‘Edge said the same, but I did not order you about.’
‘Ordered. Us. About. And before you begin worrying about that as well, allow me to point out that Edge derived quite a bit of enjoyment out of riling you. Your husband is not as straightforward as he appears, Sam. Which is precisely why I want a word with him.’
On that parting shot he left the room and Sam allowed her shoulders to droop. She wanted a word with Edge as well. More than a word. With every passing day of silence the chasm grew. She knew he was probably in no danger and yet...
She wanted to see him. She needed to see him.
Devil take him.
* * *
Sam was lying on the upper deck of the dahabiya, staring at the stars, the scent of jasmine drifting above the murkier smell of the river. But then the crescent moon became a gaping jaw and the fabric of the night twisted into a beast with searing comets for eyes streaking towards her. Any moment she would be devoured but her body would not move. Then the river splashed and seethed and two dark columns rose from the depths, wrapping about the beast which writhed as it was dragged down. Then she was falling, too, waiting for the cold to strike her...
