Chapter Nine
Lisbeth listened to the music surrounding her.
The village was euphoric that the tablets had been discovered, but more importantly, that everyone had survived the flooding.
She studied a man playing a stringed instrument.
It had been so many years since she’d heard the distinct sound of the rebab that was often coupled with the poetic singing of the region.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the song, and was startled when Rafe joined her. Lisbeth jumped, and he grinned. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A chuckle escaped her. “It has been a long time since I’ve heard this type of music. I wish my understanding of the words was better.”
“It is a song about the madman who loved Layla.”
“That forbidden love story seems to be a popular one,” Lisbeth said, excited that she remembered something.
Rafe nodded. “It is one of the most beloved Arabic tales.”
They quietly listened to the song. Even without understanding the words, she grasped that they were intended to evoke longing and regret. She glanced at Rafe and smirked. “It sounds like a very sad tale.”
“The madman grew up with Layla and loved her his whole life, but she ended up with another. Afterward, he wandered the region creating poetry about his lost love.”
Lisbeth nodded. “I remember now.”
Sadness filled her. It was one of the stories Thomas had enjoyed when they first moved to this area. She gulped because he’d always told her they were like the story, but happier. Rafe wandered away, summoned by one of the village elders. Lisbeth let her mind drift to memories from the past.
*
Lisbeth leaned forward and kissed Thomas as they sat outside under the stars. Recently, they’d revealed to each other their true feelings.
Being out in the world had emboldened Thomas to declare he loved her, and Lisbeth couldn’t be happier. He’d professed that he always had. The words had made her feel guilty because she’d not realized her feelings for him until recently.
She looked around, shaking her head. They were sitting inside an ancient, unused stone courtyard with a lit fire to keep them warm. They’d only been working with the Calverts for a few months now, but it felt right. “Are you happy?”
Thomas grinned at her. “I’m the happiest man in the world. We did it. We are working with the famed Benjamin Calvert and on our way to being famous explorers ourselves.”
She giggled. “I’m not sure about that.”
He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her form. “We are like the Majnun and Layla. Destined to be together.”
Lisbeth frowned. “Doesn’t that story end in heartache?”
He sighed. “I’m trying to be romantic. How about we are like them, but instead of the Majnun roaming the desert alone, he roams it with his true love?”
Warmth coursed through her, and she snuggled deeper into his chest. “I like that much better.”
*
“What are you frowning about? You should be happy; we have your tablets and are alive,” Thomas said, beaming down at her.
Lisbeth pushed the memories away and forced herself to smile, but it wasn’t lost on her that their happily ever after had turned out just like the Arabic love story. At her lack of response, he sat next to her. “You can talk to me, Lizzie?”
She forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Rafe mentioned this was a song about the Majnun and Layla. It brought back some memories I had forgotten.”
He nodded. “I understand why you left. I don’t like it, but knowing the truth provides a sense of closure that I haven’t had until now.”
Lisbeth smiled, truly happy that she was able to give him that. “I don’t think you turned out like the Majnun.”
He laughed. “Well, I didn’t roam the world reciting poetry. I would be atrocious at that.”
A gasp of amusement escaped her. “No, I can’t imagine Serious Thomas writing or reciting flowery words.”
“I’m not that boy anymore either.”
She glanced at him. “I think there is still some of him in you.”
He tilted her chin up and looked down at her. “Possibly, but if that is the case, I suspect the old Lizzie I used to know is still part of you. Your duchess traits haven’t fully replaced her.”
Their old camaraderie flared between them, mingling with something much more dangerous—a primal need for one another.
The all-consuming emotion crackled and hissed, tempting them both.
Lisbeth had no doubt Thomas felt it, too.
He dropped his hand from her chin and cleared his throat.
“I think tomorrow we can return to Latakia so you can arrange a trip back to England.”
She nodded, desperately trying not to concentrate on the feelings swirling around them. “I think that is best.”
Thomas nodded and stood. He looked around and then turned back to her. “I was worried today, Lizzie. I’m glad it all turned out fine.”
“Me too,’ she responded, shivering as she remembered the fear that had overwhelmed her, thinking Thomas was gone.
So many unsaid things seemed to hang between them.
It was strange because yesterday, she’d felt they’d found closure and shut the door on their relationship, but now it felt different.
When she saw Thomas in the tunnel, she wanted to wrap her arms around him—to get lost in him. All things she should not want.
Thomas wandered away, and Lisbeth let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. It was good that she was leaving soon.
*
Thomas stretched his back; it ached from the events of the last few days. They were only a few hours away from Latakia. The plan was to stay at the main hotel there, and Abbas would secure passage for him, Lisbeth, and Benson back to England. His time with Lisbeth was almost over.
Rafe glanced at him, and Thomas scowled. “Don’t bring up the madman to me now. I suspect you are the one who told the men to play those songs last night.”
His friend feigned a look of innocence. “Why would I do that?”
He shot him a disgruntled look. Rafe shook his head and sighed. “It has certainly been a crazy few days. I can’t believe we found the tablets.”
Yes, Thomas was happy about that. He didn’t know much about the Historical Society for Female Curators beyond the letters that Rose Calvert sent him. Still, it seemed like they were holding their own against the London Society of Antiquaries.
Both Thomas and Benjamin had received invitations to join the latter society, but in a show of support for Rose, they declined.
The stodgy group didn’t allow women, regardless of the value of their work.
It was a shame because the group was missing out on many capable club members.
For over a hundred years, the club had been the most prestigious and unchallenged establishment for all things related to antiquities.
The Historical Society for Brazen Curators was changing that.
Thomas rolled his shoulders again and grimaced. “I’m getting too old for exploring.”
Rafe snorted. “You are only thirty-two. But maybe you should consider going to England and settling down? You could convince that author to work with you to publish more serials.”
“I’m not returning to England.”
His friend glanced at Lisbeth and then back at him. “You are going to let the lady go? Why?”
He studied Lisbeth. She was still wearing the trousers and long shirt that Rose liked to wear, but soon, she’d be back in her regal dress. While he knew this woman, the one she would transform into in Latakia was a stranger to him.
“We decided we’ve both changed too much.”
Rafe snorted. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t compatible or the love you once had has disappeared.”
Thomas sighed. “She is a duchess. What do we have in common?”
“You are now a famed explorer, but I imagine some of the old you still remains. What did she used to call you?”
He didn’t respond, and Rafe, already knowing, added, “Serious Thomas. You are still that person. Trouble seems to find you, but you are far more cautious than you lead most to believe. You could go to London and be with her.”
His gaze once again drifted back to his old love.
The tiniest amount of hope flared in him.
To date, he’d not allowed himself to consider it.
But he suspected that if he returned to England, the ton would welcome him with open arms. Although he may have been the son of a housekeeper, he was now quite wealthy.
His mother would be delighted if he were to return.
She’d never flat-out asked him to settle back in London, but he sensed it from her letters.
Lisbeth laughed at something Abbas said, and Rafe added, “You could at least visit Rose, Benjamin, and your mother.”
“I will think about going to London but not to re-establish anything with Lisbeth,” he insisted. “We are too different.”
Rafe shook his head. “Daft man.”
Thomas lifted a brow and said, “You are not pursuing the lady that you never speak of.”
His face turned serious. “She isn’t unattached.”
Thomas did his best not to appear surprised. That was the most Rafe had ever shared about his heartache. He sighed. “Perhaps we both are a little bit like the Majnun.”