Chapter Four
Two days after her visit to The Smuggler’s Lantern, Eden sat in front of the fire in the library, an unread book upon her lap.
She had long since accepted that true passion was gone from her life, which was why she had poured so much of herself into planning this expedition.
But seeing Max again, rough-hewn and more fiercely attractive now than in their youth, had utterly undone her carefully constructed resolve.
Now, her nights were filled with aching, restless dreams of him, threatening the very focus she needed.
She hated to admit that every name on her compiled list had turned her down.
Max would have been the perfect guide—a man with both academic and military experience and a vested interest in keeping her alive.
What would she do if she couldn’t find a way to make this happen?
The thought of simply returning to Willoughby Hall to spend the rest of her days staring out at the sea was intolerable.
Her butler, Carson, gave a discreet cough that drew her attention. “There’s a man at the front door, Lady Eden,” he said with practiced deference, handing her a calling card. “I told him you weren’t at home, but he refuses to leave.”
Her pulse leaped when she saw the name on the card.
Maximillian Thorne.
“Whyever would you tell him that?” she asked, her heart in her throat. What was Max doing here? After their disastrous meeting at the tavern, she’d never expected to see him again.
Carson sniffed. “He doesn’t look as though he should be calling at the front door, my lady.”
“Where is he?” she asked, pushing to her feet, too excited to chide Carson for his highhandedness.
“In the foyer, my lady.”
She rushed to the grand entrance, hope swelling within her. Had he changed his mind? Dear lord, let him have changed his mind.
He stood with his back to her, his hands clasped behind him as he stared up at the somber paintings lining the walls.
The contrast was shocking. His imposing figure, more at home among the untamed terrains she longed to explore, looked incongruously vibrant against the muted tones of the elegant decor.
He turned as she approached, his eyes sharp and clear.
Gone were the bitter cynicism and drunkenness that had marred him at the tavern.
“Max,” she managed, afraid to ask him why he’d come, afraid to hope, even for a moment, that all was not lost.
“Eden,” he replied, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “We need to talk.”
Her pulse raced, but she managed to remain calm. “I’d like that. Come with me.”
She led him to the library, her hope growing with each step. If he hadn’t changed his mind, he wouldn’t be here, would he?
He took the chair opposite her, and she studied him closely, still afraid to say anything that might drive him away. As she continued to stare at him, his lips quirked upward, revealing the charming dimples that had always been her downfall. She swallowed dryly and forced a smile in return.
“I’m sorry about Carson,” she finally said. “I intend to have strong words with him later.”
Max waved a dismissive hand. “He was just doing what he’s been trained to do. Can’t say I blame him.” He gestured to his casual tweed suit, devoid of cravat or hat. “I’m not dressed as a gentleman. Thus, in his eyes, I’m not.”
Eden pursed her lips, as she couldn’t argue with that logic.
Still, he’d been raised as one, and Carson’s behavior had embarrassed her.
What if he’d just stormed out instead of insisting that she see him?
She could have lost him again and not even known it.
“It’s good to see you, but why are you here, Max? ”
“I’ve come to try to talk you out of it.” Max met her gaze intensely. “Because it’s dangerous, Eden. Terribly so. I’ve lived in that part of the world for years. I’ve seen how things are done. This isn’t going to go the way you think it will. I guarantee it.”
Eden felt a surge of anger. He was patronizing her, dismissing her life’s work as a frivolous hobby, just like every other man in her life had done.
“I’ve spent years researching this. I’ve studied the region’s politics and local customs. I know the history of the region.
You can’t just come in here and tell me I’m not prepared. ”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping and his blue eyes intense.
“You may very well have read every book, every account, every journal. But that’s not the same thing.
Have you ever had to bribe a government official to turn a blind eye?
Have you ever had to negotiate with a man who would just as soon slit your throat as shake your hand?
Have you ever had to look at a man and know, in your gut, that he’s lying to you?
That’s the sort of knowledge you get from experience, not from books.
” He ran a hand through his golden hair in a gesture of frustration.
“I’m not trying to downplay your research.
I’m trying to tell you that this is not a game. It’s not a treasure hunt.”
She sat back, her inner fire fading into weary resignation. “So, what? Should I just abandon it all? My life’s work? I’ve been working toward this for so long, Max. I can’t just give up.”
He stared at her for a long moment, a conflicted look on his face. She could see the battle he was fighting within himself. “Then tell me,” he said at last, his voice soft, “what is it you hope to find? Why is this so important to you?”
Eden took a deep breath, trying to control her anger and defensiveness.
She had to find a way to explain it to him that would pique his interest as well.
“I’m looking for a way to prove that the stories of ancient civilizations are not just myths, not just tales told by bored scribes.
I’m looking for the lost knowledge of the ancients.
The labyrinth of the Temple of Anubis is said to contain a civilization’s entire knowledge—their science, art, and philosophy.
If I can find even a fraction of it, it could change everything we know about ancient history.
It could prove that the past was so much more than we’ve ever imagined. ”
She saw his gaze soften, a flicker of something she couldn’t quite name crossing his features. She suspected that he wasn’t seeing her as a foolish dilettante anymore. He was seeing her as a woman with a purpose, a passion that burned as brightly as his own.
“They say the labyrinth is a place of endless passages and twisting corridors. It was built to protect its secrets from grave robbers, from men like the ones who would go there now. How can you be sure you’ll find it?
And even if you do, how can you safely navigate it?
” he asked, but the fact that he was asking the questions at all emboldened her.
“You know of the labyrinth?” she asked, surprised. But she supposed she shouldn’t be. As he’d pointed out, he knew far more about that world than she did.
“I’ve heard rumors, listened to the scholars discussing it over brandy. Most think it is just a legend,” he replied, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands over his flat abdomen.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, remembering her cousin’s claim that Max was too fond of drink. Even if she could convince him to go with her, could he be trusted?
He smirked a bit, as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking, but he shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m not going to drink on the expedition, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
She met his gaze for a long moment, then crossed the room to her desk in the corner, unlocking a drawer and pulling out a papyrus scroll with trembling hands.
Her stomach churned as she moved some piles of paperwork and set the scroll down.
She’d only shared it with a few people and been ridiculed every time.
She didn’t know what she’d do if Max didn’t want to help her.
She gestured to the scroll. “I believe this holds all the information I need to find the labyrinth. But every scholar I’ve approached, every man at the Royal Geographical Society, they’ve all laughed at me.
They’ve called my research into the priesthood of Anubis a flight of fancy.
They believe the ancient Egyptians were primitive.
That they only cared about gold and gods. ”
She took a step closer, her voice dropping. “But I deciphered a hidden history written in the stars and riddles. It’s a language no one else has bothered to learn.”
His skepticism was a palpable presence in the room, but he listened, because he had always, perhaps against his better judgment, listened to her. He was the only man who ever had.
“The priesthood designed the subterranean complex to guard something far more valuable than gold. It’s a series of puzzles and intellectual traps to be solved only by a mind deemed worthy.
” Her voice was a low, passionate plea. “It is said to contain the Scarab of Duat, not a golden trinket, but a blueprint of the underworld itself. A map of the Duat—the secrets of life, death, and the cosmos. A secret held only for the most brilliant minds.”
She laid her hand on the scroll, her fingers trembling slightly.
“I know this sounds like a madman’s fantasy.
And it is. But I also know you, Max. You’re a man of logic and courage.
I need your skills not to break into a tomb, but to get us through a series of traps that will require us to think and reason. ”
Max sat back, his gaze distant. He was silent for so long that Eden began to think she’d botched this whole thing. She knew him to be a man of action, a man of quick decisions. The fact that he was taking so long to consider her request meant he was truly struggling with it.
Finally, he looked at her again, his eyes filled with a resignation that made her heart sink. “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”
She shook her head slowly, a lump forming in her throat. “No, you can’t.”