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Patience.
She kept repeating that one word. Patience. This is Edge. Give him time, give him space and hope he will reward you by sharing his concerns once he has worked them through.
Patience.
She had no patience, none. Only fear that what had barely begun was dying and there was nothing she could do.
She looked across the table at her husband and wished she was brave enough to demand the truth and face it.
Instead she folded the newspaper. ‘Are you placing another advertisement tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Though there is hardly any point—no doubt he’s guessed it is I, blast him. I hate that he is one step ahead of me at all times.’
‘Only one?’ With an almost conscious act of will she tried to recapture some of the teasing that had existed so easily between them.
‘You aren’t helping, Sam.’ He looked so disgruntled she had an almost overpowering urge to walk around the table and hug him. But disgruntled was better than cold so she poured fresh coffee into his cup and continued.
‘Fuming won’t help either, Edge. You used to be such a calm, staid fellow, Bunny. What happened to you?’
‘You happened to me. And kindly stop calling me by that ridiculous name.’
‘I like Edge. It is very...edgy—all sharp angles you can cut yourself on if you’re not careful.’
‘I didn’t mean that, I meant... You know which name I meant. It is demeaning.’
‘No, it isn’t, it is adorable. And perfect. You are Edge on the outside but inside there is that little fluffy, darling Bunny...’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Edge pushed away his coffee, but his gaze moved over her with that shade of tenderness she missed, his mouth softening. It was such a small thing, but her heart felt like it was bleeding with relief. She reached across the table.
‘Edge, I—’
The door opened abruptly and Tubbs entered.
‘A gentleman to see you, my lord. He goes by the name of Mr Grey.’
Edge was out the door before the name even registered on Sam.
‘Tubbs? Is it him?’
‘Unless I am very much mistaken, it is, Miss Sam. In a rather disreputable state. I shall go prepare a bath, I think.’
* * *
Edge had seen his brother in various states over the years, but rarely so unkempt. He wore a grimy serge coat and was half-seated, half-prone on a chaise longue, the beginnings of a beard only partially covering the scars along his jaw.
‘Good God, Rafe. You look like hell. Are you ill?’
Rafe’s laugh ended on a wince.
‘Always blunt, Edge. No, I had a little altercation with a cutpurse and his cronies. My mistake, I wasn’t paying attention and one of them stabbed me in the leg. I’m too old for this nonsense.’
‘Do you think so?’ Edge held himself firmly against the need to drag his brother into an embrace. The relief was so overpowering he wanted to break something. He wanted Sam here with him. He pushed that thought away just as he’d pushed away most of this thoughts about Sam these past few days.
Rafe. Concentrate on Rafe.
‘You need a doctor.’
Rafe sighed and nodded.
‘I hoped to get by without a blasted surgeon, but that was probably optimistic.’
Tubbs appeared promptly at Edge’s summons, glancing past him towards the newcomer.
‘We will need a doctor, Tubbs...’
‘I know just the one. What shall I tell Miss Sam? She is worried.’
Edge rubbed his hand over his knuckles.
‘Ask her to wait.’
‘Not your run-of-the-mill servant,’ Rafe commented when the door closed behind Tubbs. ‘I’ve heard the Sinclairs have their little battalion of efficient minions.’
‘Yes. And knowing him that doctor will be here in moments so I suggest you take that time to explain why you have put me through hell these past months. I thought you were dead, Rafe.’
‘Don’t look like that, Edge. Damn this leg. I knew it would take something drastic to drag you back into the land of the living. Every time I told you to return to Egypt you told me to jump off a cliff. So I did, figuratively. A contact of mine forged that letter from the embassy. I knew you might not believe it, but you couldn’t ignore it. I planned to leave clues along the way and wait for you in Luxor and have you finally show me this precious Egypt of yours.’
‘You amaze me. So what happened to that charming little plan?’
Rafe shifted his leg with both hands and wiped his forehead.
‘I came across someone who’d become separated from her family in a very inhospitable corner of the world.’
‘Miss Osbourne.’
Rafe looked up with a grimace.
‘I was wondering about that advertisement. I knew it wasn’t that unctuous little worm Pettifer. How did you figure it out, by the way?’
