Read Online The Adventuress by TASHA ALEXANDER - Free Book Online

had never before felt for a place. Egypt beckoned her, not so much the pyramids or the history or the sweeping desert, but because it brought with it the possibility of meeting the Duke of Bainbridge. Jeremy. Her lips curled into a smile whenever she thought of his name, and if she admitted this response to be foolish, which it was, given that she had not yet met the gentleman, she did not care. She knew, without question, she stood on the precipice of a great change in her life, a change that, at last, would bring her happiness.
    No detail of the journey troubled her: stormy seas; dirty, hot train compartments; carriages traversing rough, dusty roads. None of these mattered. They were all leading her to joy. So long, that is, as she could convince Jack to lure his brother to Cairo.

 
    5
    Many visitors to Cannes, coming to escape the bleak English weather, take extended drives in the countryside every afternoon, rhapsodizing over the trees heavy with lemons and oranges, the scent of rosemary in the air, and the sweeping views of the Mediterranean afforded by the winding roads that climb the hills along the coast. Mrs. Wells had arranged many such excursions for us, but after Mr. Neville’s death, none of us had the heart for them. We could not, however, remain holed up in the hotel, morose and despondent forever. To do so would have been decidedly un-English. Furthermore, Jeremy and Mr. Fairchild needed to have some relief from their state of melancholy. Mr. Fairchild had become so bleak, he had not even attempted to discuss cricket with anyone in days, and while I welcomed the absence of such conversation, I knew it signaled deep pain. In an effort to cheer them up, Amity organized an expedition. We were to walk all the way along La Croisette until we reached Le Suquet, the medieval part of Cannes, where we would turn away from the sea and meander up the steep, narrow streets that led to Notre Dame de l’Espérance, a church whose construction was begun in the twelfth century, and the remaining bits of the castle once occupied by the Lérins monks.
    Amity’s parents, along with Cécile, stayed behind. Cécile insisted she would find no solace in the adventure, and much preferred a quiet afternoon on the terrace. “The south,” she had said, “is meant for relaxation, not for an amateur Cook’s tour.” Augustus was nowhere to be found, so we set off without him, Jeremy and Amity leading the way. Jack was carrying Christabel’s bulky camera for her, and she accepted the offer of his arm with a blush that betrayed her feelings for him. I wondered if before long we would be celebrating a second engagement. Margaret and Colin were arguing about the relative merits of Romanesque and Gothic architecture, so I walked with Mr. Fairchild.
    Mr. Fairchild, the eldest son of a well-to-do banker, had met Jeremy and Chauncey Neville at Harrow, where he had started two years later than most of the other boys, and, hence, was something of an odd man out. Mr. Neville, sensitive to anyone who felt out of place, quietly took him under his wing, and soon he was fast friends with the entire set, as well as the best batsman at Harrow. When it was time for university, Mr. Fairchild and Jeremy went up to Oxford together, while Chauncey made his way to St. Andrew’s. Their Oxford years sealed their brotherhood, and it was Mr. Fairchild who was to stand with Jeremy at his wedding.
    I did not know any of Jeremy’s school chums well. I had met them all at various times, when they had come home with their friend between terms, but schoolboys have little use for girls younger than themselves, and by the time I was out in society and might have proved interesting, they had long since finished university. Mr. Fairchild had taken Mr. Neville’s death with a quiet acceptance, but I could tell he had been profoundly affected by the loss. While Jeremy was wont to bury his emotions with an outward show