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Rhys stared at her as his heart skipped in his chest. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her. It was a hard kiss and not the least bit gentle as it should have been. She stilled for a heavy beat as his lips pressed hers, then to his surprise, she stepped closer and returned his kiss. What had begun as a brief but fervent kiss of elation quickly grew into something deeper.
With the amulet clutched in one fist, she settled her hands on his shoulders. When she lifted onto her toes, he pulled her tight against him. His hand traveled the contour of her spine, feeling the warm and weightless form of her beneath the loose blue cotton. Her lips were as soft as a whisper, and she tasted of moonlight—glowing and mysterious.
Their edges fit together perfectly. Never had he kissed a lady who felt so right in his arms. Dimly, he thought if he ever sorted this Collector business, he might like to enjoy more kisses with Miss Cor—
The Collector. His sister was still missing. As elated as he was, as perfect as Miss Corbyn’s lips felt beneath his, he couldn’t lose sight of that fact. He slowly withdrew and ran a hand through his hair.
“My apologies,” he said gruffly. His voice was not his own, and he cleared his throat.
Her lips were parted and red from their kiss, and she wore a gratifyingly stunned look that sent his already racing heart into full gallop. Her chest rose and fell as she pulled in a heavy breath and cleared her own throat.
“N—no, it’s quite all right,” she said as she returned the amulet to him with shaking fingers. “I understand the emotions of the moment must be overwhelming. I myself can be overcome by a marvelous find, and this one—”
“Miss Corbyn,” he interrupted. “Please tell me about the Pharaoh’s Trinity.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Heavens! Wasthatwhat she’d been missing? The poets’ ink and paper had not been wasted after all. Helen could still feel the press of Mr. Evelyn’s warm hand along her spine.She lifted a shaky hand and gingerly touched her lips. They burned with a feverish tingle, and even her hair felt electrified, as if she’d come too close to one of Edmund’s experiments.
But far more important than the delicious sensations Mr. Evelyn’s lips had wrought was the relief she felt to have the truth. Mr. Evelyn wasnota smuggler of artifacts, nor did he make a habit of robbing museums.
While she couldn’t deny the excitement of their encounter behind the Egyptian Saloon, the knowledge that he was simply a man concerned for his sister was welcome, and her tension eased along with her uncertainties about his character.
He spoke, his words dim as if coming to her through water. “Tell me about the Pharaoh’s Trinity.”
The Pharaoh’s Trinity… right. Her pulse thrummed a rapid beat, this time for purely academic reasons. No one would ever believe she’d beheld such a legendary piece. It belonged in a museum where it could be studied, not hidden in Mr. Evelyn’s watch, although she understood his need for secrecy and security. His sister’s very life depended on it.
She recalled his earlier question:Would you fault a man for doing what he must to protect his own?She pressed her lips against a niggling sense of shame. She’d been so rigid in her argument when the truth of the matter was simple: she and Mr. Evelyn weren’t so very different in this regard, as she’d do whatever was needed to protect a member of her own family. Perhaps she would do well to seek more understanding. To extend more empathy.
He motioned to the saddle and they settled back in their places. He leaned close enough that she caught whiffs of his sandalwood scent as she shared the legend of the Trinity.
“The texts tell of a powerful amulet coveted by pharaohs and alchemists alike. It’s comprised of three pieces,” she said. “A scarab beetle’s body and two jeweled wings that can be attached to either side.”
“I suspected as much from the holes,” he said.
“Professor Tyndale believes the Order of Osiris may have uncovered one of the wings in a market in Nubia, although it’s not a fact that’s widely known. He’s been invited to consult on the authenticity of their find, and I myself have seen obscure references to the Trinity in some newly unearthed texts.”
He turned the amulet in his fingers with a frown. “But I’ve seen countless artifacts like this scarab. How can this piece be any different?”
“The Trinity is special,” Helen said with a smile. “It’s said that when it’s fully assembled, the etchings on the back provide an alchemist’s recipe.”
“A recipe? To turn lead into gold or some such nonsense?”
“It’s not nonsense to those who believe, but this recipe doesn’t promise to create wealth. It provides direction for an immortality elixir.”
Mr. Evelyn snorted but remained silent as she continued.
“According to the legend, the Trinity was originally created by Thoth, who was, among other things, the god of magic. Thoth, it’s said, crafted the amulet from sacred carnelian and other gems and personally inscribed the recipe for the elixir of immortality on its back. He gave the amulet to the pharaoh Anuk and warned that its power was both great and dangerous, and that only a worthy and pure-hearted individual could safely wield it.”
“Worthy and pure-hearted,” Mr. Evelyn said skeptically. “It sounds like a recipe for failure more than anything.”
Helen smiled at his scorn, for he wasn’t far from the truth. “Just so,” she said. “Anuk became greedy and began to trade the elixir to gain power and wealth. He amassed a great army and conquered neighboring lands, but he became increasingly worried about losing the amulet’s power. He ordered his priests to hide the amulet in the deepest chambers of his temple where it was guarded by legions of fierce warriors.”
She explained that as the centuries passed, the Trinity was lost to history. “It was rumored to have been stolen by a slave, who broke past the guards and took the amulet before vanishing into the desert. It’s said the three pieces were spread wide across the kingdom, and a curse placed upon them to prevent others from abusing the Trinity’s power. Of course, no one knows the truth for certain. Or at least, we haven’t found the full extent of it in the ancient texts, merely small bits here and there.”
The hour had grown late as Helen’s tale unfolded, and the air had taken on a distinct chill. She wrapped her scarf about her and stretched her feet closer to the fire. Mr. Evelyn leaned against the palm and crossed his arms with a frown.
“And you think this fantastical tale is enough to protect my sister?”
