Desert Rogue. Erin Yorke
“As much as we appreciate Hayden’s sterling qualities, we had hoped you would marry a titled Englishman.”
“Mother, Hayden comes from an impeccable family. His bloodlines are nothing to wince at,” said Victoria with a pout.
“Nonetheless, society is much more pleasant when others must curtsy to you, my dear. Still, eventually your father might be able to arrange a title of some kind, baron or viscount, perhaps. Cameron does have Gladstone’s ear on foreign affairs, you know.”
“Hmm, Lady Victoria Reed. I like the sound of it already,” the bride-to-be said with a smile, sinking down onto one of the small benches near the fountains replicating those found in the Shaw gardens in Warwickshire. “Perhaps we should postpone the wedding until Hayden receives that title.”
“Victoria, you are scheduled to marry in less than three months. It would be highly inconvenient to alter our plans now. Since you were the ones who wanted to be married quickly, you should dispense with such foolish notions,” chided Grace, impatient with the heat and wishing she hadn’t mentioned her husband’s hopes. “Come along, now. We have written barely half the invitations. We must get back to them.”
“I do wish the British community in Egypt was not quite so large or that you and Father didn’t know everyone.”
“As the representative of the bank holding the notes on a major portion of the khedive’s debts, it is your father’s duty to invite almost everyone with whom he is acquainted,” sniffed Mrs. Shaw. “Besides, a good number of invitations are for your friends and people Hayden wishes to impress.”
“Mother, I promise you, if you permit me this half hour until dinner, I will produce beautiful copperplate from the moment we finish eating until my hand falls off—or until you grant this prisoner a pardon.”
“Such flippancy is hardly necessary—”
“All right, until we have finished,” corrected the young woman with a winsome smile. “Just let me enjoy the air. Even if it isn’t cool, looking at the water makes me feel better. See, there’s even a falucca on the river. I don’t recognize it, but someone else is appreciating the charm of the Nile.”
Mother and daughter watched the graceful Egyptian boat gliding downriver, its occupants invisible as it barely skimmed the water, making the motion seem effortless. Used for hundreds of years, the design was timeless, and one rarely knew where the crafts were heading or from where they originated. Only one’s imagination could attempt to solve the mystery.
“Very well, but don’t make me send the servants to collect you for dinner. I expect you at the table when I sit down. With your father in Constantinople, I detest eating alone. I always feel the serving girls are waiting for me to spill something.”
“Thirty minutes, Mother, I promise,” agreed Victoria, inordinately pleased at her precious few moments of privacy, time to dream of Hayden and their upcoming life together.
Her fiancé was so much an English gentleman that it was difficult to remember that he had lived in Egypt nearly twenty of his thirty years, she mused, leaning back and closing her eyes to picture him at his desk at the consulate.
His chin was square, his features finely chiseled, so he appeared aristocratic even though he couldn’t lay claim to nobility. Indeed, Senior Consular Agent to the Vice Consul was the only title Hayden Reed owned, but if Father could really influence the prime minister, life would be sweet, indeed. Marriage and a title, what fabulous treats were in store for her in the months ahead!
First, of course, was the ceremony, then a honeymoon voyage home to England, shopping in London, walking the estate in Warwick in cool, crisp country air. Images of bliss cascaded through Victoria’s mind, the blessed promise of tomorrow making her oblivious to the heat of the evening until unwelcome noises called her back to the river.
The sudden sound of feet landing heavily on the quay and subsequent running awakened Victoria from her daydream. Rising, she was astounded to see two natives hurrying up the landing while a third man secured the falucca she had noticed earlier.
“This is private property,” she announced sternly, waving her hand at the men in dismissal. The audacity of the Egyptians was unusual; everyone in the area knew the Shaw lands were not available for public docking. It could be that the men were from upriver, but she’d send them on their way quickly enough. “There is a landing site about two miles from here.”
Still the men approached, moving even more rapidly toward her. Maybe they didn’t understand English.
“I say, be off with you now or I shall be forced to notify the authorities that you are trespassing,” she cautioned. “My fiancé is connected with the consulate and he won’t deal with this matter lightly, I warn you. Now go.”
Despite her urgent commands, for the first time in all the years Victoria had spent in Egypt, the natives did not scurry to do her bidding. Instead, they kept coming closer and closer. The distance between them was barely a few feet now, and, for a brief instant, Victoria felt panic and wondered if she should cry out for the old man working in the far gardens.
But why should she cause a fuss, argued her common sense, when they hadn’t threatened her? Maybe they were heading for the house to deliver a message for her father. They were somewhat scruffy-looking, but that didn’t mean they were intent on mischief. Perhaps they were only lost. Supremely confident of her position once more, she spoke again in an authoritative tone.
“If you have a message to deliver, one of you may take it to the house. But the others will have to wait with the boat,” she insisted, raising her arm to point to the falucca.
“You come with us,” responded the shorter man, grabbing Victoria and yanking her to his side.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, laughing, wresting herself free and stepping backward, losing her hat in the process. Yet, despite her evasive tactic, Victoria found herself captured by the rock-solid arms of the second man. “I am a British citizen and Hayden Reed’s fiancée. Neither he nor my father will stand for my being treated this way.”
All at once a coarse rag was shoved in her mouth and she began to choke at the unpleasant taste. Trying to breathe in such a way so as to avoid the foul flavor of the cloth, Victoria felt herself being lifted and tossed unceremoniously over the tall Arab’s shoulder. Horrified, she worked feverishly to free herself from his grasp, kicking her small pointed shoes toward the man’s stomach with as much force as she could deliver.
Suddenly she knew success and failure simultaneously as her flailing feet evidently hit a sensitive spot. With an anguished cry, her captor dropped her on the riverbank, just yards from the moored falucca. Quickly she scrambled to her feet, but before she could pull the rag from her mouth and begin screaming for help, the smaller man had pinned her arms behind her back and was busy tying them tightly together.
Realizing that she might not be able to free herself from their company for a while, Victoria composed herself enough to notice that the shorter one had a small scar on his left cheek before she was dumped facedown into the falucca.
As the craft began to move, she knew only frustration at her unexpected predicament. To think she had protested writing invitations tonight! Any moment Grace would be sending the servants to find her, but they would be too late. Still, there was Hayden. Once he knew she had been kidnapped, he would have both Egyptian and British forces out searching for her, stopping at nothing until she was found. Of that she had no doubt.
Unwilling to consider the possibility that she, an English woman and the only child of a wealthy banker, could actually come to harm, Victoria felt little more than aggravated at the thought of the waiting invitations that would now have to wait that much longer. But then, Hayden would rescue her long before breakfast, certainly.
Lulled by the boat’s forward motion, she concentrated her thoughts on Hayden’s coming to rescue her, her blue eyes hardening at the memory of the villains’ touch. For surely death awaited them for their unpardonable crime!