Free Only You by Cheryl Holt Page B

demeanor.
    He was near to fifty as was she, but somehow he didn’t seem to have aged as she had.  He was thin and fit, gracious and congenial, and in his presence she felt dowdy and unkempt.  It didn’t help that she was wearing her widow’s weeds, but when Colonel Wallace had passed away, she’d sworn she would mourn him forever. 
    She was in Egypt, and the black clothing was completely unsuitable for the climate, but it made no difference.  She would dress as was appropriate to her personal circumstances.  She just hated that Valois appeared so comfortable.  In his loose trousers and shirt, he was thoroughly at ease, and she was irked at how it put her at a disadvantage.  In any situation, she liked to be in charge.
    They were in his office, with him seated behind his desk and her in the chair across.  The previous evening at supper, he’d had servants everywhere, fanning the guests, and she couldn’t figure out why the blasted man didn’t currently have some of them in the room to move the air around with palm fronds.
    She suspected it was a French ploy.  He’d keep her miserably hot, which would allow him to manipulate her into agreements she hadn’t intended. 
    He was renowned for assisting Europeans in Egypt, but it was always for a very high price.  He was thrifty and shrewd and could deliver whatever type of aid was required.  The fact that much of that aid might be dubious or illegal was of no account.
    “How many are in your party?” he asked.  “You told me, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”
    “Myself, my two children, and my niece.”
    “So four in total.”
    “Yes.”
    “You can go in one boat.”
    “I should hope so.”
    “But you’ll have to bring your own supplies, so it will necessitate a second boat.” 
    “I have no idea why,” she huffed.
    “I’ve been acquainted with Cedric Webster for a long time.  He will expect you to arrive with your own tents, food, servants, and other amenities.”
    “It was my understanding that hospitality would be provided.”
    “He will likely greet and receive you, madam, but the prior group I sent to him was not so lucky.  As for hospitality, you will have to furnish your own.  He’s distracted by his work and a bit of a…character, non ?”
    “Yes, I suppose.”
    She hadn’t seen Cedric Webster in two decades, but he and the Colonel had attended school together.  He’d always encouraged the Colonel to visit his archeological dig. 
    She and the Colonel had meant to accept Cedric’s offer, but he’d perished before he could make the trip.  Edna viewed the journey as a sort of homage to the Colonel.  He hadn’t been able to go, so Edna was going for him—and taking his children.
    She wished Fenton and Susan would recognize how fortunate they were to have the chance to honor their father’s memory, but neither of them had really known the Colonel, and it was difficult for her to get through to them on any topic.
    She didn’t remember much about Cedric—except that he was a tad eccentric—and when she’d written to ask if she could come, his reply was short but civil.  He’d explained that he was very busy, and while she was welcome, he wouldn’t be available to entertain her.
    Which wasn’t an issue.  She’d spent most of her life in India with the Colonel away from home with his regiment.  She was accustomed to amusing herself, and Cedric’s archeological dig would prove fascinating and rewarding.  The isolated, desert oasis would also be the perfect place to ingratiate herself to Susan and Fenton.
    They never showed her the esteem she deserved as their mother, and she was positive the sojourn at Cedric’s camp would bond them.  She chose to ignore the pesky problem that—if bonding was possible—it would have occurred during the lengthy voyage to Egypt, but it hadn’t.
    And it hadn’t helped that she’d dragged Theo along.  When the scandal had erupted in London, it had seemed a brilliant decision