The Lord's Inconvenient Vow

Sam resisted the urge to stop her and went to find Edge instead.

* * *

‘What did Miss Osbourne tell you?’

Sam gave a squeak of alarm, her hand fisting against her chest as Edge spoke behind her.

‘Edge! How on earth does someone your size tread so stealthily?’

‘I don’t. You were lost in thought. That was Miss Osbourne, wasn’t it? I heard you talking and decided not to interfere.’

‘Very clever of you. Yes, she—’

‘Not here. Come with me.’

Just outside the room he led her up a spiral stone stairway with barely enough room to accommodate his shoulders. On the upper floor she stopped short at the sight of a full-size statue of a man with his arms outstretched, draped in nothing more than a robe and a clearly contrived fig leaf drawing attention to, rather than distracting from, his nether regions.

Edge glanced back at her, frowning as he saw what she was staring at.

‘Stop gawking at Apollo. Over here.’

‘I will gawk if I want to. I am merely comparing points of interest. He doesn’t look as strong as you and you are far more handsome and larger...but he is passable.’

Edge took her arm, his frown fading and more than just a shade of smugness about his mouth. Once past the statue Sam gave a gasp of delight as they looked down into the open space of the Sepulchral Chamber below. It was even more impressive from above, though the sheer number of statues, urns and architectural elements was dizzying, allowing the eye no rest. Above them was another domed skylight and she leaned on the railing, looking up into the night sky. Except it wasn’t the sky—the indigo velvet of night and the golden stars were just reflections of the candles along the walls, an illusion of openness.

‘Careful.’ Edge moved towards her swiftly, his hand resting on hers, warm and firm. ‘I don’t know how sturdy the railing is.’

‘It would be embarrassing if I landed in a heap in the middle of all the antiquities, wouldn’t it?’

‘It would be...memorable. Come along.’

‘Do you know where you are going?’

‘I think so. He said it was directly above...ah.’

The buzz of voices from below muted as he closed the door behind them. This room wasn’t crammed with statues, but with temples. A central structure supported dozens of models of Greek and Roman temples in wood or plaster or stone. The walls were covered in glass-fronted bookcases and even the windows were decorated with odd-shaped panes reflecting the quivering gold of the candles and for a moment Sam was flung back to that night in the desert, standing on her rock with Edge beside her.

God, she wanted to be back there, with him.

Edge remained just inside the doorway, watching her.

‘Well? What did she say about Rafe?’

Of course. Rafe was all that mattered.

She repeated Miss Osbourne’s words as best she could and watched him assimilate them.

‘So they were searching for her brother. Interesting. Anything else?’

‘No. I don’t believe she was lying about not knowing anything about Rafe’s whereabouts. She is quite nice. I like her.’

He gave a little snort of derision, as if liking someone was a ludicrous proposition at this juncture.

‘No one else here appears to know anything about Rafe. They are naturally curious about the Disappearing Duke, but no one showed the slightest sign of guile when his name arose. As for Miss Osbourne, I can easily see Rafe offering his assistance if she found herself separated from her rather eccentric relations in Egypt. But if what you said is correct, whatever Miss Osbourne’s connection with Rafe, it might now be over.’

He went to the window, tracing a rounded pane of glass with this finger. She stood beside him and traced the other rounded pane, stopping when she realised she was copying him. Not that he noticed.

‘At least you know he is alive and well. Perhaps you should trust him about the rest. It sounds like he has never failed you yet.’

‘I am not worried about him failing me. I merely wish...’ His lips compressed further.

‘Stop being so Edge-ish and keeping everything inside. What do you wish?’

He turned his head and smiled, but it lasted only a moment, slowly fading away as his eyes settled on hers. The room shrank to the size of those miniatures, her skin tight and tingling, she could even feel her breasts firming, readying. Her lips parted because there wasn’t enough air. How did this happen so quickly? Each time it struck faster, harder. If it became any more acute she would start melting in the middle of the street if he merely took her arm.

‘We should leave.’ His voice was rough, or the pulse thudding in her ears made it sound so.