Historical Romance: April Books 1 - 4. Marguerite Kaye

Historical Romance: April Books 1 - 4 - Marguerite Kaye


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held tightly on to his hand as they passed the sites of their previous excavations, up to the gap between the two outcrops, where he picked up a lantern and lit it, holding it high. ‘What have you found?’ Tahira asked, frowning when they came to a halt. ‘It is far too small to be any sort of dwelling.’

      ‘Come further in and see,’ he replied, leading the way, lowering the lamp in order to guide her steps.

      ‘What is it? I can tell from your voice that it is—Christopher, don’t keep me in suspense, it’s cruel.’

      He laughed. ‘Only a moment longer.’ He came to a halt at his small excavation and handed her the lantern. ‘Go on, take a closer look and tell me what you think.’

      She stooped down to examine the ground he had so painstakingly cleared. ‘This is where you found the gold bangle, isn’t it?’ She took her time, her fingers tracing delicately over the area he had exposed, before she stood up, stepped back, paced around, frowning. ‘There is nothing. No evidence of foundations, and I presume you haven’t found any other artefacts?’

      ‘As a matter of fact I have, but I’d rather wait to show you it. Look more closely.’

      ‘What for? Is it another entrance to the mine?’ Tahira peered down at the dirt and rocks, shaking her head. ‘What am I missing?’

      And then she saw it, the tiny gap at the base of the rock which his digging had exposed. Dropping to her knees, she examined it more closely, running her hands over the rock’s striations, then standing up, running her hands up further. ‘I thought it was a fissure, but it’s not, is it?’

      Christopher shook his head.

      ‘It has been very cleverly done,’ Tahira said, her face almost pressed up against the rock. ‘An opening has been blocked up with stone and adobe to blend in with the natural rock. Time has done its work most effectively to cover it up, but I am sure of it. This has been sealed very carefully indeed. Someone has been most determined that whatever is behind here should not be discovered. Could it be our thief’s treasure trove?’

      He waited, clearly enjoying watching her thought process reflected in her face. ‘But, no,’ she said now, shaking her head, ‘that would not make sense. If our thief did exist, he would have wished to recover his loot at some point. This would take a great deal of effort to break through. That, and the effort put into concealing its existence means that it was never intended to be opened up.’

      ‘Exactly,’ Christopher said, primly.

      She burst out laughing. ‘It is not fair, you have the advantage of me. What have you found?’ She set the lantern down, gave his arm a shake. ‘Please, I am desperate to know.’

      He handed her something, wrapped in a piece of cotton. ‘This was buried at the concealed entrance.’

      Tahira dropped to the ground to open it, crossing her legs and setting the bundle between them. Slowly, she unwound the protective wrapping—one of Christopher’s cloaks had been sacrificed. The effigy was carved from stone, and almost perfectly preserved. She held it reverently as she traced the cat’s feet, tail, ears. The paint was flaking in places, but the rings on the tail and legs clear enough. ‘It’s a sand cat,’ she said, smiling, flattening her hand over the head of the statuette, running it down the back as if she were stroking the real animal. ‘A perfectly beautiful sand cat. And very, very old.’

      Christopher nodded. ‘What do you think is its purpose?’

      ‘Purpose?’ But almost before the word was out, she understood. ‘It’s a guardian, isn’t it? This pose, sitting sentinel, I have seen drawings of such things. They usually guard—by the stars! A tomb?’

      ‘Of a wealthy and important person too I reckon. Though I fear it has been raided, for that is the only explanation of our finds.’

      ‘But the entrance has been concealed so perfectly.’

      ‘It was most likely raided not long after the burial, before the tomb was properly sealed. A common occurrence in Egypt, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Who could be buried here?’ Tahira wrapped the sentinel sand cat back up carefully, and got to her feet. ‘I’ve never come across anything like this in Nessarah. It begs the question, why? Do you think it’s possible for us to take down these stones?’

      Christopher grinned. ‘Do you think it’s possible for us to resist? Though it’s very well done, I don’t think it would be too difficult, and fortunately, we’re quite some distance from the mine, it’s highly unlikely anyone will notice.’

      ‘My heart is racing. I can’t believe it. Could we start tonight?’

      ‘Do you really have so little time left before you are—is your betrothal so imminent?’

      In the light of the lantern, she was reminded of their first meeting at the entrance to the mine. His hair had shimmered like gold. His eyes were such a striking blue. A dangerous man, she’d decided and she’d been right, but during the long nights working together, she had come to see that there was so much more to him than that. An honourable man. A troubled man. A man with demons. A thoughtful man. A man who would take ridiculous risks, go to any amount of trouble, to make a wish come perfectly true. A man she had come to care for far too much, despite the fact that he was also a man about whom she knew far too little. A man who, in a very short period of time, she would never see again.

      ‘Tahira?’ Christopher gently wiped the tear which tracked down her cheek with his thumb.

      She caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. ‘My sister says I am very fortunate. He is not old or cruel, the man my brother has found for me. My sister says she would gladly marry him herself. He is a widower, with a small child. A boy. I would not even be expected to provide an heir. He even lives—he lives within travelling distance. I could not have asked for a more suitable and amenable match, Christopher, but still I cannot—I simply cannot bring myself to embrace it.’

      He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. She burrowed her face into his chest, breathing deep of the scent of lemon soap and whatever it was that was particularly Christopher.

      She had heard Ghutrif boasting about the mine to Juwan yesterday, promising her a turquoise necklace made of the first ore, when their son was born. If she could find a way to steal a sample for Christopher, it would save him from taking yet another unnecessary risk by stealing a sample himself.

      And yet, the more she helped him, the sooner his quest would be over and he would leave for ever. Another thought struck her forcibly. The more she helped him the more likely it was that he would turn up at the palace to hand back the amulet. Reducing the risk to him made the risk of his discovering her true identity terrifyingly likely, and if he then let slip their acquaintance...

      Acquaintance! A word that fell a long way short of whatever it was that they had between them. She shuddered. It simply didn’t bear thinking about. If the worst came to the worst—or the best came to the best—or the worst came to the best, or whatever combination—she would think of something to prevent him storming the palace. She would have to.

      ‘Tahira?’

      She forced herself to look up. Christopher pushed her hair back from her cheek, his expression set. ‘There is no chance that this betrothal will come to nothing, like the others?’

      At least he had not guessed her true thoughts. Tahira smiled wanly. ‘Lightning will not be permitted to strike again. The last time, I was not—I made my indifference clear, and so too did my betrothed.’ She hesitated. Christopher was frowning, that frown he wore when he was trying to bite his tongue. ‘That previous match was arranged by his family,’ she elaborated, which was the truth, though not specific enough to betray her identity. ‘In the end, he chose to ignore their wishes.’

      The one thing she could not do. The words hung between them, but they’d already said more than enough on the subject. ‘Should we make a start?’ Tahira asked, far more brightly than she felt.

      *


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