Mr. Impossible (The Dressmakers 2)

Daphne was tempted to do the same.

The sun glinted on hair as black as a raven’s wing. The wind whipped the kamees’s billowing shirtsleeves against Mr. Carsington’s powerful arms and his loose Turkish trousers against his long legs.

Her heart felt wind-whipped, too, beating with a mad happiness against her ribs. He was alive. He looked toward Udail/Tom, who was talking, then laughed at whatever it was the boy said. Then Mr. Carsington’s gaze came to her, and he grinned and waved, and she thought, I’m lost.

THE ISIS GOT under way the instant Mr. Carsington and his youthful devotees came aboard. By this time, Daphne had herself under control.

“You are alive,” she said with wonderful composure. “In one piece. No visible bruises.”

“That’s Tom’s fault,” Mr. Carsington said. “Just as things were about to get interesting, he started jabbering. It went on forever. Something about jinn and afreets, I think. At any rate, the kashef turned pale and sent everyone away except his interpreter. Then, suddenly, His Honor began ‘remembering’ things.”

A sound near their feet made him look down. The mongoose stood on her hind legs, peering up at him. The creature still held the shirt in its sharp little teeth.

The animal had had a dispute with the cats last night, but that was all. The cook, who had reason to fear for his chickens, had actually fed her. And the crew seemed to accept her. Everyone aboard — except the cats — seemed to view the mongoose as a good omen, as Nafisah said.

“Ah, still with us, I see,” Mr. Carsington said.

Far more important, he was still with them. Alive. In one piece. Only when she saw him strolling so casually to the landing place did Daphne realize how much anxiety she’d suppressed.

“It seems she means to stay,” she said a little breathlessly. “Nafisah, too. No difficulty there. She wasn’t at all eager to return to her late husband’s village. Negotiations had begun, you see, to add her to her neighbor’s collection of wives — the neighbor whose mongoose this was.”

“She’s ours now,” Mr. Carsington said. “What shall we call her?”

“Nafisah,” Daphne said. “Surely you can pronounce that.”

“I meant the mongoose,” he said.

“Oh.” Daphne regarded the creature, who was still transfixed by Mr. Carsington. Could anybody resist him?

The cats, Gog and Magog. They were as majestically indifferent to him as they were to everyone else aboard.

If only I were a cat, Daphne thought.

“Marigold,” he said. “What do you think of the name Marigold?”

“I think it’s silly,” Daphne said, “which fits her perfectly. She’s the silliest mongoose I’ve ever heard of.”

He crouched down. “Marigold?” he said.

The mongoose chewed on the bit of shirt in its mouth.

He rose. “She’s thinking it over.”

“While she does so, perhaps you would be so good as to tell me what the kashef remembered,” Daphne said.

“Oh, that.” He frowned. “Come inside. I’m perishing for coffee.”

THE COFFEE CAME, and food, too. The tray, crammed with dishes, none of them remotely English, reminded Rupert he’d eaten nothing since his quick breakfast at daybreak. Between mouthfuls, he began giving Mrs. Pembroke a fuller account of his meeting with the kashef of Minya.

When Rupert described his initial diplomatic efforts — the flying demonstration — she stared at him, green eyes wide. Then the pale, stunned look reddened into anger.

“How could you be so irresponsible?” she said. “They might have killed you — and Tom. Then where should we be? Did you forget we’ve several females aboard, one little more than a girl and another a baby?”

She stood up quickly, in a flurry of muslin. “But why do I ask? Of course you are irresponsible. If you were not, you would not have been in that dungeon in Cairo. If you were a responsible, thinking individual, Mr. Salt would not have jumped at the chance to be rid of you.”

As you’d expect, her brain was in excellent working order: she was right on every count.

“Come, don’t be cross,” he said. “It was stupid, I admit. But I was in a foul temper and not thinking clearly.”

“We cannot afford your indulging in ill humor,” she said. “I cannot do this alone. I rely upon you, Mr. Carsington. I do not like to — to inhibit you. I know you are a man of action, who must find so much responsibility oppressive. But I must ask y-you…” Her voice wobbled.

“Oh, no,” he said.

She held up her hand. “I am not going to weep,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” he said.

She came back to the divan and sat down. She bit her lip.

He sighed. “Go ahead.”

She shook her head.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’d rather you hit me, but this punishment is much more painful. Exactly what I deserve.”

She smiled crookedly. “I’ll show mercy this time,” she said. “But you must not do it again.”

The crooked smile might as well have been a hook. It dug in sharply, into someplace deep inside, and he stared at her stupidly, like the fish he might as well be, caught on a crooked brink-of-tears smile.

“I will never, ever do it again,” he said.

“Good.” The smile smoothed out, and she settled back onto the divan, tucking her feet under her. “Tell me what you learnt from the kashef.”

“Noxious’s famous boat did stop here, not quite a week ago.” Rupert focused on the story and the food, to keep from thinking about what she was doing to him. “It was a short visit, to load supplies. He came with another man to call on the kashef. The ghost was discussed. After Noxious left, the other fellow inquired in the area about the ghost. A day or so thereafter, he went with a group of men to the rock tombs to perform holy rituals to summon the ghost and make it vanish. And lo and behold, a genie came in a sandstorm and carried the ghost away into the desert. In other words, your brother is traveling across the desert at present in the company of unsavory characters of various tribes and nations. And these men are known to be in Noxious’s employ.”

Her green eyes widened. “Good grief.”

“All the consuls in Egypt — including our own — employ disreputable persons on occasion,” Rupert said. “Noxious is trying to recover your papyrus as well as your brother. The people who kidnapped your brother are cutthroats, literally. Much as I dislike defending him, I can well understand why his lordship should hire men of the same breed.”

“Perhaps that’s understandable,” she said. “But leaving Miles in their care is not.”

“Yes, well, matters are a bit more complicated than we thought,” Rupert said. “There’s a war in progress, apparently, and it isn’t mere unfriendly competition for antiquities. This one seems to be personal, between Noxious and Duval — and it’s more violent than the usual disputes.”

“In other words, Miles has been caught in the middle,” she said.

“So it seems.” Rupert went on eating, occasionally glancing up now and again to watch her green eyes shift from side to side. He knew she was only thinking and it wasn’t about seduction. She was working out the implications of what

he’d said. He wondered why he found it so fascinating, watching her think.

“A war,” she said finally. “And since Lord Noxley’s men now have Miles, we can expect Duval’s men to come after me.”

“You’d be a valuable bargaining chip,” Rupert said. He paused before adding, “If I understood correctly, they’re all headed south. If you think it would be wise, at this point, knowing what we do, to —”

“Absolutely not,” she said sharply. “I’m not turning back. They can fight over the silly papyrus, if they want, but I am not leaving Miles in the hands of brigands and assassins, no matter who employs them. I’m not going back to Cairo without my brother. I did not come this far only to run away at the first difficulty.”

“It’s hardly the first difficulty,” he said. “Have you forgotten we were trapped in a pyramid? Have the various corpses we stumbled over slipped your mind? We were arrested, recollect. There was the intimate encounter with a viper. And we’ve been invaded by a lunatic mongoose.”

She dismissed this with an airy wave of her hand. “We knew early on that Duval might come after me to use me against my brother. The threat did not deter me then, and it will not deter me now.”

“I rather thought not.” Rupert grinned stupidly. He couldn’t help it, any more than he could help feeling so stupidly pleased. He would have taken her back if she wished, though he wasn’t at all ready to cut short their adventure.

She rose. “We shall continue as planned. Lord Noxley’s men must meet up with their employer sooner or later. We’ll retrieve Miles and let them proceed with their war without us. For the present, however, I need to collect my thoughts. In solitude.” She opened the door, and the mongoose entered, shirt trailing. “Marigold will keep you company.”

THE WIND GREW stronger with each passing mile. It subsided at sunset only to return with increased force when the sun rose the next day. Fortunately, it was in their favor, and it did give Daphne an excuse to remain cloistered in her cabin.

The wind-driven sand often kept the women inside, in cabins whose chinks were stuffed with rags. Leena spent a good deal of time with Nafisah and the baby, leaving Daphne to study her new cartouches in peace.