Free Damien's Destiny by Jean Hart Stewart Page A

the Portuguese understand they must help. Does Cecil Rhodes know of this?”
    Damien didn’t want to delve into that question. Cecil Rhodes might very well not appreciate Rafe’s interference.
    “I’m not cognizant of Lord Rhodes’ intelligence, my lord. I’m only concerned with my friend. A man I treasure. This is a serious matter. Please know Marquis Chittenden means a lot to me and I’d be more than grateful to you for your help.”
    Salisbury smiled. The smile of a predator who thought he’d won.
    He was not at all averse to having this enigmatic earl in his debt.
    Salisbury rose and held out his hand.
    “You have my assurance, Sinclair. And I’d be obliged if you call in at the War Ministry before heading back to your estate. I understand there are interesting developments you might want to know about.”
    Damien merely nodded. Let Salisbury think he’d won a point. Damien had reasons of his own for checking in at the ministry.
    He wanted to return soon to his women. Debora was taking Rafe’s capture harder than he’d expected. Would she appreciate another day in London? Perhaps distraction would help just a little. So many interesting museums and sights and a brief holiday might benefit them all.
    The more he thought about it the better he liked the idea. Perhaps Debby would retire early tonight too and he could find a way to further his raging desire for Toria. He craved her as he’d not dreamed a man could yearn for a woman. Not just her body but her smallest thought. At this point his objective seemed far away. He might definitely be a raving idiot by the time he won her.
    Not that he doubted he would be the winner. She was definitely destined for him. If he only managed to survive the unconscious torment Toria heaped on him.
    He’d call at the War Ministry and then tell the girls he’d decided to take another day of this unexpected vacation. Unless they seriously objected.
    * * * * *
     
    Toria was ecstatic with the idea, Debora less so.
    Damien spoke softly to his sister.
    “Jason won’t even be to the Suez Canal by now. He will send us a wireless message as soon as he can, probably while he’s waiting for passage there. Then we won’t hear from him again until he reaches Beira. We’ve set up a schedule, fearing too frequent messages might attract attention. There is no need to hurry home, my dear.”
    Debby gave him an agonized glance but didn’t object to another day away from home.
    Damien knew from keeping track of Toria’s years at Miss Carpenter’s School for young ladies she’d been twice to London. She’d seen the usual attractions, Westminster Abbey, Parliament, the British Museum, the royal residences. Still he thought they could go to the British Museum once again. Exhibits there were sure to have changed since she visited two years ago.
    The Polynesian exhibit from the London Missionary Society was on loan and reportedly fascinating. The ladies would never have seen anything like these amazing objects, nor had he.
    It proved an inspiration, as the strange objects of worship and daily life of Polynesia intrigued them all. Some of the carved wooden figures were wrapped in bark cloth, while others featured strange pearly shells. No one commented on the several statues with shapes suggesting the male phallus—an impossibly large male phallus. Damien wondered if his charges even recognized the sexual prowess they portrayed.
    He thought not and felt vastly relieved. Toria didn’t need to be frightened any more. Seemingly she was not affected at all. She simply didn’t recognize the rather lewd significance of some of the idols. He felt her not unduly haunted then by her one horrible experience. Although she was definitely tainted.
    But then he’d always known she was an innocent at heart.
    As he hoped, Debby left the dining room to retire early. Toria looked at him with pleading eyes.
    “Oh please, Damien, can we walk again a little? I enjoyed it so last night.”
    To his delight