The Perfect Wife (17 page)

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Authors: Victoria Alexander

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“Oh, Nicholas, you won’t be sorry.”

“Hah. I shall probably be very sorry.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the berth. His lips nuzzled her neck and shivers coursed through her. He whispered in her ear.

“However, I can think of worse places to get to know my wife than beneath a desert moon.”

He placed her on the berth and her gaze met his, the moment abruptly weighted with meaning. Unspoken promises were exchanged, commitments made, agreements forged. If yesterday had been the physical coupling of their marriage, today was the bonding of their spirits. Sabrina realized, regardless of what happened, this man would own her heart forever.

“If the two of you can bear to pull yourselves away from each other, I believe we have some serious talking to do.” Matt’s dry, sarcastic tones interrupted. He sank into a chair and studied the couple with obvious annoyance.

Reluctantly, Sabrina pulled away from Nicholas. He settled beside her and cast Matt a bored glance. “Proceed.”

“First, I want to know why you think this letter of Bree’s is so ridiculous,”

Sabrina nodded in agreement. “The directions seem perfectly clear and rather clever to me.”

Nicholas plucked the letter from Matt’s fingers. “Oh, everything written here is indeed concise and easily understandable. The problem is not so much what is written as what is not.”

Sabrina drew her brows together in a puzzled frown. “I do not understand.”

“It’s quite simple, my dear. When Napoleon marched his troops through Egypt he was not exactly the darling of the French government. In point of fact, those in charge were more than content to ignore him altogether. The very idea that the government would send gold to support his efforts is ludicrous.” Sympathy shone in Nicholas’s black eyes. “I am sorry, my love.”

Disappointment stabbed through her. Could it be that after all her efforts she would fail through no fault of her own?

Silence descended over the room, each person lost in his or her own thoughts.

Matt studied his fingernails with an intensity that belied the mundane action. His words came slowly, as if he puzzled each one out in his head before giving them voice.

“Bree?” Her gaze met his. “Isn’t there a first page to that letter?”

She nodded. “I believe so.”

“And you don’t have it?”

She sighed with impatience. “You know full well this is all I have. I don’t see what difference another page would make.”

Matt leaned toward Nicholas. “Whether or not his own government was behind him, Boney did have supporters in France, didn’t he?”

Nicholas nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. His Egyptian campaign was well before his elevation to emperor, but there were those who saw his potential.”

The men locked gazes. Sabrina looked from one to the other. They seemed to have forgotten her presence. Excitement grew in their voices.

“So it is not far-fetched to assume—” Matt said.

“—that the support for Napoleon, and therefore the gold, came not from the government—” Nicholas began.

Matt continued. “—but from private sources, and the first page of Bree’s letter could well explain that.”

Nicholas concluded with a slow grin, “So, it’s possible that this treasure exists after all.”

He tossed Matt a look of grudging admiration. “Very good, Madison.”

“For an American?” A challenging smirk creased Matt’s face.

Nicholas nodded ruefully. “For anyone.”

Sabrina studied the two men. Something indefinable had just changed between them. Fascinating to watch, distracting her from—she caught her breath. “Are you saying the gold exists?”

“No. I’m saying there is a chance.”

Matt’s smile widened. “A chance I’m willing to take.”

Nicholas cocked an eyebrow. “A chance we’re all willing to take.”

Sabrina returned Matt’s smile and noted with pleasure that even Nicholas finally appeared excited at the prospect of the quest. Exhilaration spiraled within her. “So, we are agreed then? We will continue? As partners?”

“As partners. If we don’t kill each other first.” Matt grinned at Nicholas.

Nicholas groaned. “As partners. And God help us all.”

Chapter Thirteen

Sabrina rested her elbow on the railing and propped her head in her hand. Her gaze wandered restlessly. Under ordinary circumstances the exotic sights of the bustling Naples docks would have appealed to the adventuress in her. She would have been fascinated by the curious foreign spectacle peopled with odd and intriguing creatures, the lyrical languages of far distant lands, even the powerful and pungent scents of the waterfront.

Instead, a disgruntled sigh blew through her lips. Now that Nicholas not only knew of the purpose of their journey but was, however reluctantly, joining in, frustration stabbed her at any delay. But Matt insisted this stop in Naples was necessary to his shipping interests, and she could scarcely argue with the needs of business. Still, Sabrina feared the remaining hours until they sailed again would stretch to eternity.

They’d docked more than an hour earlier. Nicholas mentioned something about posting a letter and left the ship. Matt was nowhere in sight, attending to the various details of docking and supplies and cargo and a myriad of other maritime particulars. It had been so long since she’d been on a ship, the details of being in port had faded from her memory, along with other useless bits of knowledge. With both men occupied, Sabrina was left to her own devices and, since she had no real desire to go ashore, had to content herself with observing the profusion of activity on the wharf.

“A penny for your thoughts, or should I offer a fortune?” Matt leaned on the railing beside her.

Sabrina’s gaze caught on a sailor feeding nuts to a small monkey perched on his shoulder. “I daresay my thoughts aren’t worth much of anything right now. Unless you tell me we can be off, I shall continue to stand here chaffing at every second of delay.”

Matt laughed. “Bree, your treasure has been hidden for twenty years. It can wait a few more days.”

“I’m not at all concerned about the gold.”

“Then why the impatience?”

“I don’t know exactly. But it’s been so terribly long since I did anything even marginally exciting, so long since I’ve had so much as a meager adventure, I detest having to halt our progress even for the shortest time.”

“Can’t be helped, Bree.”

“I realize that. I simply don’t like it.”

She pulled her gaze from the sights on the dock and perused the captain. “How are you and Nicholas getting along? In the past few days, ever since he learned of our quest, the two of you have been as thick as thieves. Dare I hope you’ve put your animosity aside and become friends?”

Matt appeared to choose his words carefully. “Oh, I wouldn’t say we’re friends. In fact, I don’t think I trust him.”

“Whyever not?”

“Don’t get indignant with me, Bree. You know perfectly well the man’s background. He’s been active in government, and I suspect his experience goes far beyond missions of diplomacy.”

Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat. Had Matt learned about Nicholas’s previous encounter with them? She still had not decided whether she should tell Matt she’d married the agent they’d beaten a decade ago, or whether wisdom decreed keeping her knowledge to herself.

She threw him a challenging glare. “No doubt, but what difference does that make?”

“He quizzes me, Bree, constantly. He does it extremely well. His questions are so off-hand, so subtle, that it took me a while to catch on.”

Apprehension trickled through her. “What kinds of questions?”

“Mainly about my life, my past. He’s asked about my parents, my family... my sister.” He shot her a rueful look. “That’s a hard one to deal with. I have no idea how desperate this sister was, what problems she faced, when she—”

“Enough,” she said impatiently. “His questions seem relatively innocent.”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s also asked about my ships, how many I have now and how many I had ten years ago. He’s tried to find out how I came by the money to build a fleet the way I have. No, he’s definitely looking for answers. I just wish I knew what’s behind those questions of his. The only thing he hasn’t asked me about is you.”

“Well, that’s something, at any rate,” she said under her breath.

He studied her for a long, discomforting moment.

“What’s going on, Bree?” he asked softly. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Sabrina stared, a dozen thoughts flying through her head. Did Matt deserve to know who Nicholas was? Or did she now owe her husband more loyalty than she did her longtime friend and partner? Just because Nicholas asked a few questions didn’t mean he was suspicious, merely curious. Still, forewarned was forearmed, and it might well be in her best interest, and Matt’s, to tell him what she knew.

She drew a steadying breath. “Perhaps it’s—”

“Excuse me, Capt’n, lass.” Simon nodded curtly. His voice came as a welcome interruption, and Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief. Time enough to tell Matt about Nicholas later. Besides, he did not trust her husband well enough to betray them.

Matt turned to the first mate. “What is it, Simon?”

“Well, Capt’n,” the big man’s eyes twinkled, “there’s a young gentleman on the dock who says his party’s been stranded. They’re headed for Egypt and want to book passage.”

“How many in his party?” Matt asked, his tone a casual inquiry.

“Himself and two women. The young one looks desperate, like she’s about to burst into tears. But the older lady seems right excited. Keeps calling their predicament a crusade of adventure.” Simon chuckled. “I’d wager she’s damned feisty—got a lot of spirit.”

Matt hesitated, and Simon seized the opening. “They’re both beauties, Capt’n.”

Sabrina groaned to herself. By the look on Matt’s face, Simon’s assessment finally captured his captain’s interest. Simon pushed his point home with the relish of a fencer striking the coup de grace. “And they say they’ll pay double the usual rate.”

“They’re beauties, you say?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Do we have any available cabins?”

“Just one that’s fit for passengers, Capt’n.” Simon wore a look of innocence. “I was thinkin‘ we could put the young gentleman and his lordship in the empty cabin and let the women all bunk together.”

“Now wait just a moment...” Sabrina said, her voice rising in irritation.

“That means we’d have to separate the newly weds.” A slow grin spread across Matt’s face. “All right, Simon, let them board.”

“Matt!” Sabrina adopted her most indignant manner.

“Bree, you wouldn’t want us to turn our backs on fellow travelers.” He glanced at Simon. “Are they English?”

The sailor nodded. “Aye.”

“And fellow countrymen too, Bree. Tsk, tsk.” He leveled a mournful glance at her. “I wouldn’t have thought you so unfeeling, so ... I think
selfish
is the right word, don’t you think so, Simon?”

Simon appeared appropriately downcast. “Aye, Capt’n. I’d say selfish about covers it.”

Sabrina glared at each man in turn. As if this delay wasn’t bad enough, now she would have to share her cabin with two strangers; tourists, no doubt. Quite likely the kind of proper ladies she’d had her fill of in London. Women who would never understand her quest, let alone her traveling sans servants and wearing men’s clothes. Worst of all, this would mean no more nights spent wrapped in Nicholas’s arms. Disappointment flooded her at the thought.

“Bree?” Matt said gently.

“Very well.” Sabrina glowered and clenched her teeth. “The more, the merrier.”

Matt grinned at his success. “I knew you’d see it my way. After all, this is business, and passengers are the business of this ship.”

Pointedly, Sabrina turned her back on Matt with a snort of derision and glared at the vessels in the harbor, as if the innocent crafts were responsible for her annoyance. Sabrina would accept this inconvenience, but she positively refused to be gracious about it. And she had no desire to meet these intruders until absolutely necessary.

“Bring them on board, Simon.” Laughter shaded his voice. “Now, Bree—”

She whirled to face him. “Don’t you dare try to justify yourself to me, Matthew Madison. I know exactly what you’re up to. You simply can not bear to see Nicholas and me together, and you just want to create problems in whatever way possible.”

“Bree, would I do that to you?”

She shot him a scathing glance. “You would and apparently you are.”

The voices of the new arrivals approaching the ship drew their attention. From this distance their features were not discernable, but there was something vaguely familiar about at least two of the figures.

They stepped up the gangplank and drew closer. The face of a woman a bit younger than Sabrina came into focus and nagged at her memory. On her heels followed a young blonde—

Sabrina gasped. “Bloody hell.”

An appreciative smile creased Matt’s face. “Simon was right—they are beauties.”

Sabrina’s voice rang icy and hard. “Don’t even think it, Matt. That’s my daughter.”

“Your daughter,” he said in surprise. “The tall, dark-haired one is your daughter?”

“No, you idiot. The blonde is my daughter. How in the name of all that’s holy—”

“What about the other one?” Interest glittered in his eyes.

For a moment Sabrina forgot her shock over seeing Belinda board the ship and wanted to laugh. This would certainly serve Matt right. It was exactly what he deserved.

She grinned. “That, my dear old friend, is Wynne Harrington. Nicholas’s sister.”

“His sister?” A hint of dismay flickered across Matt’s face. “Does he care for her, do you think?”

“Oh, I suspect far more than you care for your sister. Nicholas’s sister does, after all, actually exist.”

Matt stared at the newcomers’ steady approach. Sabrina saw his jaw tense in an attitude of resolve and chuckled to herself. She’d only met Wynne Harrington once, but all she’d heard about the woman indicated that she was far more interested in books than in men. Still, disinterest on the part of a female was one sure way to entice a man like Matt. This new development could, at the very least, provide an interesting diversion.

“Mother?” Belinda’s questioning voice interrupted her thoughts. Sabrina steeled herself and turned to her daughter.

Belinda stared in obvious astonishment, as if she were unable to believe her eyes. “Mother!”

Belinda flew the remaining steps between them and threw herself, weeping, into her mother’s arms. “Oh, Mother, I didn’t know if we’d ever find you. I’ve been so worried. That loathsome man threw us off his nasty boat. And Erick has been so dreadfully ill. Since the moment we left England everything has just been horrid.”

Sabrina was hard pressed to balance concern for her daughter with amusement at her dramatic outburst. She wrapped her arms around her crying child and glanced past Belinda to a sheepish-looking Erick. “What is she talking about?”

He cleared his throat in a nervous gesture. “We have, umm, had a few difficulties.”

“Difficulties,” Belinda said, and jerked her head off her mother’s shoulder. Indignation glittered in her eyes and she glared at her
fiancé. “I believe, Erick, ‘difficulties’ is putting far too mild a face on it. Disaster is a more apt description.”

Erick looked like a man caught in a futile struggle to save himself from drowning, or worse. “Belinda, I am certain ...”

“Erick,” Sabrina said, “perhaps it would be best if you let Belinda explain about your problems and, more to the point, what you three are doing here. Darling?”

“Thank you, Mother.” Belinda sniffed inelegantly. “When I learned you were heading to Egypt I decided we should go after you.” She threw her mother a cautious look. “In your best interest, of course.”

Sabrina sighed softly. “Of course.”

Relief crossed Belinda’s face. “At any rate, we decided to follow, and Erick’s Aunt Wynne agreed to come along as a chaperone.” Belinda cast a quick glance at Wynne, where she stood chatting with Simon, apparently oblivious to Belinda’s outburst.

“Come along, Mother.” Belinda hooked her arm through Sabrina’s and propelled her down the deck and out of earshot. Daughter leaned toward mother in a manner heartfelt yet discreet.

“Wynne is extremely annoying, Mother. She has likely read every book ever written and does not hesitate to share her knowledge and the opinions derived from it. She so upset the captain of the boat we were on, he demanded we leave, virtually abandoning us here.

“And when she is not enlightening us on some obscure point, she is writing in that horrible journal of hers. I feel as if she is noting every little thing I say or do. It is most disconcerting.”

“Indeed.” It was difficult to keep the smile off her face. Belinda’s indignation was obvious, and when Sabrina thought of Matt’s interest in Wynne ... oh, yes, there was indeed promise here for some entertaining moments. Sabrina turned her attention back to her child. “Well, everything has worked out now and we’re all together.”

“Oh, no, Mother, that’s not all.”

“No?”

“Mother, it’s Erick.” Belinda sighed. “He’s been, well, ill. Mai de mer.”

She leaned toward her mother with an air of confidentiality. “I know that when one marries one is suppose to carry on through sickness and all that, but it really is rather unnerving. I realize this is not at all charitable, but seeing him hang over the side of the boat day after day, listening to him groan and watching him turn the most remarkable shade of green ... well, it’s simply not...”

“Not romantic? Not heroic? Not quite what you’d imagined?”

“Exactly.” The tragic exaggeration of youth clouded Belinda’s sapphire eyes. “Mother, what shall I do?”

Sabrina once more resisted the urge to smile. She could all too easily remember the heightened emotions of that age. An age at which she herself had already been married and borne a child.

“Do you still love him, sweetheart?”

Belinda nodded mournfully.

“Then I would suggest,” Sabrina said slowly, “that in the future you simply make sure the man never, ever boards a ship again. Keep him on dry land. I’m not certain I should even allow him on beaches or within sight of the ocean.”

Belinda’s eyes widened in surprise, and she stared silently, as if digesting her mother’s advice.

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