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Her suspicion was confirmed when he lifted a hand to rub it along his bristly jaw. “Dash?”
She crossed her arms. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”
“Ah, but how can it be eavesdropping when the words are spoken over a man in his own bed?”
Warmth filled Helen’s cheeks, and she uncrossed her arms to touch the back of one hand to his brow. His skin was cool, and relief surged through her. He reached a hand up to take hers. His palm was large, and she relished the solid, vital strength of it. He’d been foolish to jump in front of Sir Rupert’s gun, and she had a mind to tell him so, but she only twined her fingers with his. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been kicked by Fiona then dragged through the desert.”
His sister had moved to the far end of the room, ostensibly to sort Rhys’s shaving things. The room wasn’t that large, however, and Helen suspected Fiona could hear everything.
“It’s true your sister can be a bit… strong-willed,” she said without lowering her voice, “but I don’t think she’d ever do anything so cruel.”
Rhys laughed then winced, and she knew a moment of regret for her jest. “My camel,” he said. “Not my sister.”
Fiona frowned at that and returned to the bed. “You named yourcamelafter me?”
——
Rhys shifted asFiona plumped his pillow. “Are you in much pain?” Helen asked. Concern tugged her brow low. “The physician left some laudanum, and I’ve still some opium powder left in my box.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her with a bright smile, although the skin over his ribs pulled and burned whenever he moved.
She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him. Before she could slip something into his tea, he distracted her with a question. “What’s to become of our consul-general? Tell me what I’ve missed.”
Helen settled on the chair next to the bed and arranged her skirts as his sister fussed with the water pitcher. “The governor’s men have personally escorted Sir Rupert to Alexandria, where I understand he’s to be placed on a ship bound for the embassy in Constantinople. There will be a trial and, needless to say, he’s been relieved of his post.”
“That’s good,” Rhys said. A trial could take some time, but he hoped the wheels of justice moved strong and swift.
She told him next that there’d been no saving Sir Rupert’s manor once the drawing room collapsed. “It’s a shame his collection was lost in the fire,” Helen said. “I’ve no doubt we would have learned a lot from studying his artifacts.”
“Akeem wasn’t able to recover the wing then?” Rhys asked.
Fiona tensed ever so slightly, and he regretted bringing the man’s name into the conversation. He’d told her of Akeem’s claim that he’d been protecting Fiona by leaving her at St. George’s, but she remained skeptical of the man’s character. He couldn’t say he blamed her, after the ordeal she’d suffered.
Helen shook her head at his question. “No one’s found anything thus far. The Order of Osiris has been guarding the site, but since Sir Rupert’s villa smoldered for some time, searching the remains has been nearly impossible.”
Fiona returned to the other side of his bed to say, “What I don’t understand is why Akeem met you in Alexandria, when you had agreed to return to Cairo with the amulet.”
Rhys had considered the same question. “I presume he meant to secure the scarab before the Collector could get to it.”
Helen nodded. “Although he claimed to be working on behalf of the Collector, we now know that was a fiction. He’s told me he was suspicious of your motives,” she said to Rhys, “and when I interrupted the exchange in Alexandria, he directed members of the Order to retrieve the scarab. The amulet would have fetched a good price, and he thought you meant to sell it.”
“At my sister’s expense?” Rhys said incredulously.
“Yes, well, the ladies in Akeem’s life don’t inspire the same degree of affection, it would seem.”
Rhys rubbed a hand over his brow, glad to have the whole business behind them. When Helen had gone, Fiona stepped closer to his bed.
“You may keep her,” she said after a long pause. “Although, she seems a trifle opinionated to me.”
Rhys smiled. He couldn’t disagree with her assessment, but whenever he thought of the past days and how close he’d come to losing Helen, his heart nearly stopped. He didn’t know how he could have borne such a thing, if Helen had been erased from this world before she had a chance to enjoy all of her adventures. The notion tightened his throat and brought an unfamiliar sting to his eyes.
At his silence, Fiona settled on the edge of his bed, a sure sign she wished totalk. Casting her eyes down to her hands, she said softly, “As a widow, my opinion has some merit when I say you will come to regret every moment spent without her.”
His sister’s grief filled him like it was his own, and Rhys covered her hand. “You may be surprised to know I’ve reached the same conclusion. I just need to determine if Miss Corbyn feels the same. It’s very possible she does not.”
Fiona considered him for a moment before replying, “At the risk of making this too easy for you, I am confident she does.”
