Chapter One #2
Sinking into the cushions of the window seat, she found herself staring not at the sea but at the cozy, storybook cottage next door, with its thatched roof and unique design.
Her friend Lavender lived there with her husband, Kendrick Wycliffe.
Lavender had also lived at Willoughby Hall until about six months ago, but she’d fallen head over heels with their handsome, hermit-like neighbor.
She’d accompanied him to Spain to find his long-lost daughter, only to end up returning with the girl’s half-brother and half-sister as well.
Now they were happily married, their home overflowing with children and laughter.
Until today, Lavender had been the only one of their group Eden had ever confided in about Max, but even then, she hadn’t mentioned his name.
She’d kept her thoughts of him locked so deeply inside all these years that she had no idea how to begin to let them out now.
Lavender might understand, might be the best one to talk to tonight, but Eden found herself just sinking farther down into the cushions, closing her eyes against the sight of her friend’s happy home.
She’d long ago accepted that such happiness was not for her.
Seeking Max in London was probably a ruinous gamble, yet she’d exhausted herself in the search for someone half as capable for over a year now. She couldn’t imagine turning away from this chance to secure a suitable guide for her expedition to Egypt—or to see him again.
Would he even remember her?
Her greatest fear was that Max had not given her a single thought in all these years.
His absence had become something she had learned to skirt around, like a sore tooth one avoided with one’s tongue, and now here she was, contemplating purposefully seeking him out and engaging his services. Would he be different after all these years?
She cast herself back, wading through echoes of past conversations, their witty sparring, and the camaraderie that once seemed as natural as breathing.
She remembered his disarming grin, the ease with which he moved through the world, and the way his laughter had made the constraints of her life feel momentarily looser.
What if all those bright memories were now replaced by bitterness?
Could she handle his hatred? Or worse, his disdain?
She clasped her hands tightly around her knees, trying to steady her spiraling emotions.
After denying Max permission to court her, her father, the formidable Earl of Haversham, had informed her that he had already arranged for her to wed the Duke of Radcliffe’s younger son, Richard.
The betrothal had made no sense to her. Why deny Max’s suit, ostensibly because he was a younger son, only to turn around and marry her to another younger son with no better prospects?
She hadn’t known then that her father and the duke had made a bargain, that the duke had made a political move that had solidified the success of one of the earl’s investments.
Her father had sold her, plain and simple, a fact that still made her blood boil.
What was even worse, the earl had sold her to a man who had preferred men to women, a man who’d never had any intention of being a husband to her in truth.
She now knew that the duke had merely wanted the sham marriage to cool the scandal and whispers about his son.
He’d also wanted Eden’s enormous dowry to prop up some of his own failed business ventures.
Perhaps her mother would have tried to intercede on her behalf, but she’d died of a fever the year before. She’d felt so very alone, unable to fight her father’s will without anyone to help her do so.
Tears stung her eyes as she remembered those first days of her marriage, when she’d waited for Richard to come to her bed, wondering what was wrong with her.
She’d always been self-conscious of her tall, willowy frame and flaming auburn hair.
He’d seemed revolted by her, and she’d realized that their relationship might never be consummated, that she’d never have children of her own to love.
It had been almost a year before she’d finally found the courage to confront Richard and beg him to come to her bed so they could start a family. He’d taken pity on her then and confessed that he’d never want her in the intimate sense, because he simply wasn’t attracted to women.
At first, she’d fallen into a deep depression.
Eventually, however, she accepted that there was no way to change her circumstances, so she poured all her energy into her other passion—archeology.
She’d gone to lectures, enrolled in some classes, read every book she could get her hands on, and found mentors to develop her knowledge further until she knew just as much about the subject as the most prominent men in the country.
Her love for history had turned into a full=fledged obsession, as she poured all her time and energy into deciphering a specific papyrus that led to a location in Egypt she’d dearly love to explore.
When she’d finally decoded it, she had first approached her husband about funding an expedition to see if her deductions were right.
But even though Richard didn’t care what she did with her time, the duke refused to let her access any of the money she’d brought into the marriage for something he deemed so ridiculous.
She’d fumed with resentment, but the setback hadn’t destroyed her ambition.
Over the years, she’d realized that she didn’t merely want to fund an expedition; she wanted to lead it herself.
She wanted to trek across the African desert and see those ancient wonders for herself.
She wanted to prove that her theory was correct.
She’d passed thousands of lonely nights dreaming of it, imagining every detail.
And then Richard had died.
Thankfully, her father had had the foresight to write a stipulation into the marriage contract that if, upon her husband’s death, she and Richard had no offspring, the bulk of those funds would revert to her.
The duke hadn’t quibbled about the stipulation at the time, probably because he hadn’t expected his younger son to die in a brothel fire when he was not quite forty years old.
She’d found herself a very rich widow at the age of four and thirty years. And finally, the world had opened up to her. But even with her vast fortune, she’d had difficulties finding someone willing to take her to Egypt because she didn’t want to go as a tourist. She wanted to go as a scientist.
All those years, poring over dusty tomes, the quiet ridicule of her colleagues, the polite pity—it had all led to this. Her colleagues saw Egypt as a grand treasure hunt for riches to fill the British Museum and their pockets. But she knew the land held much more.
Her goal wasn’t to unearth a golden coffin or a jewel-encrusted mummy.
She wanted to prove that the true treasures of that ancient world were not found in a sarcophagus, but in the wisdom and intellect of a people the British had so carelessly dismissed.
She was going to find a truth that would shake the very foundations of their narrow-minded world, a testament to a culture whose greatest works were not monumental tombs, but riddles designed to be solved by the mind.
It would be her vindication, her life’s work made real.
With a sigh, she looked once again toward Lavender’s lovely home. If only her father had let her marry Maximillian Thorne. With her dowry, they could have pursued their mutual love of history. They could have explored the world. They could have had a family...
She blinked away a fresh wash of tears. It hurt even to imagine what might have been had they been allowed to marry. Besides, all of that was water under the bridge now. She couldn’t change the past. And she was too jaded now for such fanciful dreams. But she could still go to Egypt.
And perhaps Max could be the one to take her.
Feeling suddenly restless, she sighed, pushed up from the window seat, and crossed to her wardrobe, pulling out a small trunk.
She and Daphne would be staying at her London townhouse.
She used it frequently, whenever she traveled back to the city to attend a lecture or conduct further research, so she didn’t need to pack much.
However, putting together a few things would at least help take her mind off what lay ahead.
Thank goodness Daphne was coming with her. She didn’t know how she’d face Max again without at least one of her friends by her side.