realised she was alone. His side of the bed was cool. She listened but heard no sound from the adjoining bathroom. She sat up quickly. Her feelings towards him were painfully confused, yet when he wasn’t there she missed him. Her gaze fell on a folded note on the nightstand.
Gone to the harbour. Will return in time to escort you to breakfast. As ever, Jago.
She stared at the phrase As ever. He had used those same words in his note of condolence after her father died on the day that they returned from Spain. He told her later that with so much unsettled between them, so many questions still needing answers, he had not dared speak of love. Instead he had chosen those words hoping to reassure her that his feelings for her had not changed and never would.
Was that why he used them now? Despite the hurt, she loved him still. How could she not? He had been – was – her world. He had awakened her as a woman and given her two precious sons. He was an integral part of her life, of her.
But the day the boys died their marriage changed for ever. There was no going back. But what lay ahead? Emotionally, as well as physically, she was in unknown territory.
She washed and, leaving her lilac gown lying on the ornately carved wooden chest, put on a clean shift, drawers, stockings and her white kid boots, then her corset, camisole, flounced petticoat and a tiered skirt of white spotted muslin.
Sitting down, already uncomfortably warm, she brushed her hair and twisted it into a coil high on her crown to allow air to the back of her neck. Lastly, she put on the white, long-sleeved, swallow-tailed jacket trimmed with a sash and bow of holly green ribbon.
She had just fastened the last button when she heard the key turn. The door opened and her heart gave an extra beat. He was back: she was safe. He placed his hat on top of another tall chest, concern in his gaze as he smiled.
‘Good morning. How are you?’
‘I’m very well, thank you.’
‘I’m truly glad to hear it. Are you ready to go down?’
She nodded. There were shadows under his eyes and the crease between his brows had deepened. About to ask him if everything was all right, she held back. Of course it wasn’t.
‘What?’ he said as she walked out into the passage. He might be tired, but he missed little.
Caseley waited while he locked the door, keeping her voice low as she replied. ‘I was thinking that in a few days we will be leaving for the desert with £20,000 of England’s gold to persuade people, whose loyalties are unknown, to fight against Egyptians who simply want the right to govern their own country.’
‘This is the world of politics,’ he said dryly. ‘For all its unpredictability and physical danger I prefer the sea.’ He cupped her elbow as they walked downstairs.
‘What are your plans for this morning?’ she asked.
‘Why? Is there something you wish to do?’
‘The hotel has a laundry service –’
‘Of course, you want to collect our washing from Cygnet. ’
‘You should have woken me.’
He shook his head. ‘You needed sleep.’
‘It would have spared you a second visit to the harbour.’
‘It’s no trouble, Caseley. We’ll go directly after breakfast. Then I must call in at the Consulate. A note was waiting when I went down this morning.’
The sun was already hot, the air only slightly cooled by an on-shore breeze as they took a calèche to the port. As they drew closer, gulls soared and wheeled overhead with mournful cries. Caseley was reminded of Bonython’s yard by smells of coal smoke, sawn timber, boiling pitch and rope.
The crew paused to greet her then returned to their repairs and cleaning. Jago remained on deck talking to Nathan while she went below and gathered their dirty linen, stowing it all in a pillowcase. Then she folded his work shirts and her navy skirt and jacket into another.
‘Do you want to come with me?’ he asked as they headed back towards Midan Muhammad Ali.
‘Thank you, but I
Gone to the harbour. Will return in time to escort you to breakfast. As ever, Jago.
She stared at the phrase As ever. He had used those same words in his note of condolence after her father died on the day that they returned from Spain. He told her later that with so much unsettled between them, so many questions still needing answers, he had not dared speak of love. Instead he had chosen those words hoping to reassure her that his feelings for her had not changed and never would.
Was that why he used them now? Despite the hurt, she loved him still. How could she not? He had been – was – her world. He had awakened her as a woman and given her two precious sons. He was an integral part of her life, of her.
But the day the boys died their marriage changed for ever. There was no going back. But what lay ahead? Emotionally, as well as physically, she was in unknown territory.
She washed and, leaving her lilac gown lying on the ornately carved wooden chest, put on a clean shift, drawers, stockings and her white kid boots, then her corset, camisole, flounced petticoat and a tiered skirt of white spotted muslin.
Sitting down, already uncomfortably warm, she brushed her hair and twisted it into a coil high on her crown to allow air to the back of her neck. Lastly, she put on the white, long-sleeved, swallow-tailed jacket trimmed with a sash and bow of holly green ribbon.
She had just fastened the last button when she heard the key turn. The door opened and her heart gave an extra beat. He was back: she was safe. He placed his hat on top of another tall chest, concern in his gaze as he smiled.
‘Good morning. How are you?’
‘I’m very well, thank you.’
‘I’m truly glad to hear it. Are you ready to go down?’
She nodded. There were shadows under his eyes and the crease between his brows had deepened. About to ask him if everything was all right, she held back. Of course it wasn’t.
‘What?’ he said as she walked out into the passage. He might be tired, but he missed little.
Caseley waited while he locked the door, keeping her voice low as she replied. ‘I was thinking that in a few days we will be leaving for the desert with £20,000 of England’s gold to persuade people, whose loyalties are unknown, to fight against Egyptians who simply want the right to govern their own country.’
‘This is the world of politics,’ he said dryly. ‘For all its unpredictability and physical danger I prefer the sea.’ He cupped her elbow as they walked downstairs.
‘What are your plans for this morning?’ she asked.
‘Why? Is there something you wish to do?’
‘The hotel has a laundry service –’
‘Of course, you want to collect our washing from Cygnet. ’
‘You should have woken me.’
He shook his head. ‘You needed sleep.’
‘It would have spared you a second visit to the harbour.’
‘It’s no trouble, Caseley. We’ll go directly after breakfast. Then I must call in at the Consulate. A note was waiting when I went down this morning.’
The sun was already hot, the air only slightly cooled by an on-shore breeze as they took a calèche to the port. As they drew closer, gulls soared and wheeled overhead with mournful cries. Caseley was reminded of Bonython’s yard by smells of coal smoke, sawn timber, boiling pitch and rope.
The crew paused to greet her then returned to their repairs and cleaning. Jago remained on deck talking to Nathan while she went below and gathered their dirty linen, stowing it all in a pillowcase. Then she folded his work shirts and her navy skirt and jacket into another.
‘Do you want to come with me?’ he asked as they headed back towards Midan Muhammad Ali.
‘Thank you, but I
Similar Books
