‘Here.’ Quin stood up from the fireside where he had been hunkered down. ‘I’ve warmed some water for you.’
‘Don’t you want to wash?’ It was curiously difficult to meet his eyes, as if he’d read her heated thoughts in them.
‘I have. I used cold water.’ He handed her the jar and squatted down again, his focus apparently on the glowing wood. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
There was no answer to that other than, Oh? Why not? And that risked receiving an answer she would not want to hear. Cleo went and washed, wishing she had cold water, too, then slipped back inside to dress and pack away her clothes and make a bundle of the bedding, shaking each piece vigorously. Whatever else a voyage down the Nile would involve, there should be a merciful absence of sand.
‘What shall I do with the bed frame?’ Quin called.
‘Stack them all by the donkey’s shelter. I will put everything we are leaving for the villagers there.’
From the far side of the tent she heard the sounds of her father waking, grumbling as he moved around. ‘Hot water by the fire, Father,’ she called and went to set out breakfast.
* * *
The villagers came straggling towards them, donkeys at their heels, by the time the big tent was cleared and their possessions piled into two heaps, one to stay, one to go. Quin left Cleo to discuss the loading and carried on pulling tent pegs out of the ground. She came running back as he finished that and began directing men to remove poles and collapse the structure in such a way that they could fold and roll it into series of bundles that were then tied with the guy ropes.
‘Very efficient,’ he remarked as he dropped the pegs into the drawstring bag she produced.
‘I am.’
Quin grinned at her back as she marched off to supervise the loading of the donkeys. Cleo was being exceptionally crisp this morning and he suspected he knew why. That kiss. He could not regret it, although it had made for an uncomfortable night. But it was as far as things could go, even though his body was clamouring for more and the part of his brain that tried hard to ignore his conscience was protesting that Cleo needed comfort and human warmth.
You are not going to seduce a respectable widow, he told himself firmly. She does not deserve it and she certainly is not going to end up as your mistress. He watched her now as she saw to the loading of Sir Philip’s trunks, showing no more concern for them than she did for her cooking implements. In contrast he noticed the way she kept an eye on the box containing the weapons and could only conclude that she had no idea that her father’s correspondence might be in any way important or compromising.
I can acquit you of harm, Cleo Valsac. And I can hand you back to your grandfather the duke with a clear conscience when I tell him you are the victim of the piece. And you can become the lady you should be by birth and leave this drudgery behind. All I need to do is get you there despite, no doubt, your best efforts to do things on your terms.
Quin flexed the muscles in his injured arm, feeling the pull and sting of the healing wound, then went to keep an eye on the weapons chest. It was a long way to England.
Chapter Seven
What excellent Arabic you speak, Mr American Engineer. I wonder why you need that particular language. Cleo sat on a pile of blankets and watched as Quin organised the sailors into creating small enclosed compartments midships on both boats, using parts of the dismantled tent.
The crew, she knew, would sleep ashore each night, but she was profoundly grateful to see the makeshift cabins that would give her a little privacy in the midst of all these men.
Feluccas could carry at least a dozen passengers, so there was ample room for their possessions and those of the four villagers who would come with them to sail the boats. The great lateen-rigged mainsails were large to catch every breath of breeze and manoeuvrable enough to tack from side to side down the meandering river to avoid the constantly shifting sandbanks. They were halfway between the annual inundations so there was still enough water in the main channels to ensure a fairly smooth trip and, of course, once they had beaten upstream to meet with the army barges, they would turn and go with the current.
‘Excellent. I will have this one.’ Cleo glanced up to see her father was already organising all his luggage around him in the foremost felucca, filling the small cabin.
‘You need to allow enough room for your daughter, Sir Philip.’ Quin switched back to English.
‘She can sleep on the other boat.’ He was already opening boxes and putting his folding chair in place.
‘I am on the other boat and you have left me no room on yours. In the absence of a female companion Madame Valsac should be with you at night.’