Chapter Six
Max stood on the busy London train platform, checking his watch for the tenth time, his bag resting at his feet. He was focused, already mentally cataloging the tasks awaiting him in Dover, when a crisp, towering footman tapped him on the shoulder.
“Mr. Thorne?” the man asked with practiced deference. “Her Grace, the Duchess of Ashbourne, would like a word with you before your departure.”
Max frowned, checking the time again. He had less than half an hour before the train pulled out.
Despite his irritation, he recognized the name; the duchess was one of Eden’s close friends.
Reluctantly, he followed the man outside to a closed, highly polished carriage waiting just beyond the station gates.
The footman opened the door, and Max stepped inside, finding himself face-to-face with a lovely woman whose dark hair was shot through with gray. He judged her to be in her late forties or early fifties. She surveyed him with an intensity that was honestly quite terrifying.
“Max Thorne, I presume?” she said as he settled across from her.
He nodded abruptly. “Can I ask what this is about, Your Grace? I have a train to catch in less than half an hour, as I’m sure you know.”
She ignored the implied threat to his schedule. “I just wanted to meet you before you escort Lady Eden off to the desert. She’s very dear to me, you see, and I’d take it as a personal affront if something were to happen to her.”
Sinking back against the luxurious velvet squabs, Max did his best not to let a smile tug at his lips.
A duchess, one of the most powerful women in the Empire, was threatening him, and the sheer ridiculousness of it amused him.
He was also genuinely glad that Eden had friends who cared enough about her to make such a theatrical intervention.
“Nothing about this journey will be easy,” he told the duchess, meeting her gaze. “By its very nature, it will be dangerous. But I will do my best to keep her safe. She is very special to me as well.”
She placed a delicate fingertip to her lips, still staring at him with unnerving intensity. “Do you love her?”
The question was so direct, it took his breath away. He swallowed, breaking her gaze, and stared out the window into the distance. The roar of the approaching train was audible, a metallic scream promising escape.
“I’ll die to protect her if that’s what it takes,” he finally admitted, his voice flat.
She stared at him for another long moment as though trying to see into his very soul and then sighed. “Well, I suppose that’s the best answer I can hope for,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “You may go.”
Apparently, the interview was over.
The footman opened the door, and Max stepped back onto the bustling pavement, slightly rattled by the duchess’s audacity. But her words lingered: “Do you love her?”
Of course, he did. He always had. And now, knowing that her very life rested in his hands, that love felt like a lead weight pressing down on his chest. It was a complication he neither wanted nor needed, but one he could not escape.
The only path forward was the one he’d already promised himself: rigorous, absolute professionalism.
When Willoughby Hall came into view at the end of the lane, Eden sighed with relief. Genevieve’s seaside home had soothed her since the first time she’d seen it, and she badly needed a day of relaxation before she set out for Egypt.
The last few weeks had been a blur of activity.
Max’s involvement in the preparations had been meticulously impersonal; his last communication, a terse note detailing when she needed to board the ship, had contained nothing beyond logistical instructions.
Max had taken the train down to Dover earlier that morning to make sure all their supplies made it aboard, and she had come home to gather a few remaining things and, unfortunately, Mrs. Carlisle before meeting him at the docks tomorrow.
She clambered out of the carriage without waiting for the footman and hurried inside the house.
Both Daphne and Genevieve had remained in London, and Mrs. Carlisle would arrive by coach later, so it was blessedly quiet.
After quickly refreshing herself, she went outside and took the well-worn path to the cottage next door.
Though she’d appreciated Genevieve and Daphne’s concern, she needed Lavender’s sweet honesty more than ever.
She rapped upon the front door, smiling as she heard the familiar, chaotic din of children and a barking dog inside.
The cottage was busting at the seams with Kendrick’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Miranda, her two half-siblings, Rafael and Teresa, whom Kendrick and Lavender had adopted after their mother’s death, and their adorable spaniel, Daisy—a warm, loud world of domesticity.
Eight-year-old Rafael flung the door open, his dark eyes widening with delight. “Aunt Eden!” he exclaimed. “We thought you were in London!”
“I was,” Eden replied, grinning as he stood aside to let her enter the cottage. “But I’m back now, and I wanted to see your mum before I leave for Egypt tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Lavender asked, entering the room with a harried look upon her lovely face. The scent of freshly baked bread and woodsmoke clung to her dress. She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and motioned for Eden to join her on the sofa. “What on earth? Tell me everything!”
Rafael left the room to join his siblings out in the garden. As Eden looked around at Lavender’s cozy, busy home, she felt a familiar tug of wistful longing. Lavender’s path of having children and a loving husband was a beautiful thing, but one she’d always known would never be hers.
“I finally found a guide for my Egyptian expedition,” she said, tamping down her momentary distress. “He’s already in Dover, and I’m meeting him at the ship tomorrow afternoon. Then we’re off to Alexandria.”
“This all seems so sudden,” Lavender observed, stretching and slouching in a very unladylike way, clearly savoring her moment of quiet.
“To me, it feels as though it’s taken a lifetime,” Eden said with a shake of her head. She swallowed dryly. “Do you remember when I told you about my old love?”
“Of course,” Lavender said with a frown. “But what does he...” She trailed off, obviously putting the pieces together.
Eden nodded, hysterical laughter welling up within her.
She forced it down. “It’s him, Lavender.
His name is Max Thorne. I haven’t seen him since my father denied his suit all those years ago, but now we’re going to Egypt together.
” It still seemed surreal, but saying it aloud made it feel so much more real.
“Max Thorne,” Lavender murmured, her brow furrowing in concern. “I must confess, when you spoke of him, I assumed he was a gentleman. Is he even qualified for such a thing?”
“He is a gentleman. He’s the younger son of an earl. But he is still highly qualified,” Eden assured her. “He studied archeology at Oxford, served in the military for a decade, and has led several expeditions in Egypt already.”
“So you’re not worried about the dangers to your person,” Lavender surmised. “You’re worried about the dangers to your heart.”
Eden nodded in relief. She’d known Lavender would understand.
“I’ve thought about him all these years.
I don’t think I ever really got over him.
And seeing him again... All those feelings came back.
He’s even more handsome than I remember.
I’m terrified that I’ll fall right back into his arms, and he’ll just walk away without a backward glance again. ”
Lavender smiled ruefully. “I worried about the same thing with Kendrick. But love is worth the risk, Eden. If I’ve learned anything over the past year, it’s that.
I wouldn’t trade those moments that he and I spent in Spain for anything in the world, even if they had been all I ever had with him.
When I’m with Kendrick, I can be myself completely, and that’s no small thing. ”
“I felt the same way about Max back then,” Eden said pensively. “He really listened to me, Lavender. He really seemed to see me, in a way no one else ever had.”
“You said your father denied his suit?” Lavender asked shrewdly. “That seems to indicate that he did indeed want to be with you. Now that your father and husband are gone, and you’re independently wealthy, none of the barriers of the past stand in your way.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Eden admitted. “Part of me wants nothing more than to pick up where we left off. But another part of me is happy with the life I lead now and has no interest in once again being beholden to any man.” She met her friend’s gaze.
“Are you truly happy now? Do you have any regrets at all about choosing this life?”
“I am very happy,” Lavender said, and the sincerity in her eyes was absolute. “Sometimes it’s exhausting and overwhelming, but I have no regrets. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” Eden sighed. “It’s a moot point anyway, I fear. Max has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want anything from me other than his fee. I tried to talk to him about how our relationship ended, but he said we must leave it in the past.”
“Men aren’t good at talking about their feelings,” Lavender said, reaching over to squeeze Eden’s hand.
“But if he’s worth it, he’ll eventually let you in.
In the meantime, you must steal a little bit of happiness for yourself.
You get to be that girl who believed in love again, if only for the duration of the journey. Take the time, and see what happens.”
They moved on to talk about the details of the trip, but Lavender’s words stuck with Eden as she returned home to finish packing.
She realized she’d needed to talk to her best friend even more than she’d thought.
Lavender had such a serene presence about her, and her love story was the only one that Eden had ever even heard of that seemed likely to remain happy forever.
After their conversation that afternoon, she resolved to let things develop however they would and not try to push a relationship that had long since died.
Still, if things went well, she was determined to embrace whatever taste of love she could manage.
Wasn’t it better to have love and passion and lose them than never to know them at all?
Despite how things had ended with Max the first time, her life would have been poorer for never having loved him.
Back in her own room, she opened her wardrobe.
She carefully took out a pair of the breeches that Daphne had made for her.
She couldn’t imagine riding a camel sidesaddle, and during what was certain to be her rigorous trek through the desert, she would be far more comfortable wearing them than anything with skirts and petticoats.
She laughed at the mere thought of riding a camel.
Such amazing experiences lay in front of her.
She would not worry another minute about what may or might not happen between her and Max.
All that mattered was that she was finally on her way to what was certain to be the greatest adventure of her life.
She pulled the second pair of tweed breeches from the drawer and placed them into her trunk, a defiant farewell to the stuffy world of the ton she was leaving behind.