Heart of Light (33 page)

Then she'd trusted her father, even if she had not loved him the way she'd loved her mother. Her father was stolid and always there, a comforting, strong presence, ready to make sure Emily was safe. But then her father had remarried, and more than half of his attention fell to his wife and his new daughters. Now his betrayal of Emily was complete. Still, she'd trusted him. Trusted him to keep her safe, to safeguard her happiness and her honor. And yet her father had allowed—encouraged—Emily to marry Nigel.

Which had led Emily here, to the midst of forsaken Africa, where she was neither a wife, nor a mistress, nor even Nigel Oldhall's equal, and certainly not his love.

Sometime during the night, in the middle of her turmoil, between tears shed on her pillow and rumpled sheets on the camp bed, she decided that from now on she would steer her fate, because she could trust no one else to do it for her. She would lean on Peter, but she wouldn't trust him, either. And she would stop feeling guilty for believing that in this expedition Peter was the only one who could protect her. Here, so many miles away from all the people who'd formed and given boundaries to her life and her beliefs and abandoned or betrayed her, she would tread her own path.

LADY'S CHOICE

Emily walked with Peter. The day had dawned brisk
and humid, but with a promise of great heat beneath its cold-dewed fingertips.

They'd been climbing a great scarp, in a line, with Kitwana ahead—though sometimes the carrier leader dropped behind Nigel and walked beside Emily for a while, casting toward Peter looks that to Emily seemed challenging and defiant.

Nigel walked with Nassira openly and when not staring at Emily talked quietly with the native woman, who seemed to be full of attention and care for both Nigel and his words.

Emily studiously avoided looking at Kitwana. She had not come to Africa to become smitten with a native. She was aware of the differences in their education, in their backgrounds. He was a carrier, someone who made a living by lifting heavy burdens by the strength of his muscular body. No matter how much he behaved like a prince. Perhaps there was even a strangness to his soul. Some people in England seemed to think Africans were that alien.

And Emily didn't want to know Kitwana closely enough to find out if it might be true. How much could this tall, lean African, used to the boundless forests of his homeland and ignorant of drawing room etiquette and modes of dressing, have in common with an English lady? She found herself watching his broad shoulders, his easy gracefulness, and she told herself it was foolish and also inappropriate.

As for Farewell, he had been quiet. He walked as he usually did in the morning, with a spring in his step, appearing cheerful and happy. Now and then he looked at Emily with a quietly considering look in his green eyes. But he did not talk.

“You look well rested, Mr. Farewell,” Emily said.

Having decided she was going to claim Peter for her own, to protect her on her journey through Africa, she was determined to claim his heart. “You must sleep very well indeed,” she added with a smile

He looked at her and opened his mouth as though he was laughing, though no sound emerged from between his lips. His eyes seemed to dance with merriment for a moment, then he blinked and looked away. “It comes from a clean conscience,” he said.

Was he warning her off her attempt at immorality? She looked forward to where Nigel walked with Nassira. His head was bent slightly, to speak to her, while she in turn looked upward as if she was bathing in the full light of Nigel's regard.

Nigel and Emily had walked like that, along quiet English streets and parks, through their courtship and engagement. A vise of regret clutched Emily's heart. Had Nigel loved her then? Or had it all been make-believe? “I wonder how long Nigel has known the native woman.”

Peter looked toward Nigel. “He knew her before he came here?”

“He must have,” Emily said. “She was a maid aboard the carpetship that brought us to Africa. And she and Nigel . . .” Emily's voice failed her and she found a strong need to clear her throat. “They were in the jungle. Alone. I saw them come back to the encampment.”

Peter gave Emily a long, calculating look. “Are you sure you're not imagining too much? After all, a man with a young and beautiful wife such as you . . .”

Emily felt her cheeks flame. This was all the confirmation she needed. Peter thought her beautiful. The wind brought her a faint smell of Nigel's cologne, but all she could see of him was his back, clad in a brown safari suit. She spoke looking at that back, her voice a whisper. “I'm his wife in name only,” she said.

For a long while, Peter did not speak. Silence seemed to assume a physical weight between them.

“Well,” he said at length. “He is worried. There is so much on his mind—”

“Not enough to keep him from going out with his woman at night,” Emily said. “From disappearing with her into the jungle.”

Silence nudged between them again, and Emily could feel Peter staring at her. “It's extraordinary.” He took a deep breath and was quiet a moment. When he spoke again, it was in an expressionless voice. “One thinks one knows a fellow. I'm sorry, it is a damnable situation, and one you should not be subjected to. I suppose in England you might have returned to your father's home.”

He obviously didn't know her father, and Emily was not about to enlighten him. She made a sound that he could interpret in any way he wished.

“Nigel is my friend. If I should speak to—”

Emily shook her head. “It would only make things worse. He'd never forgive me for telling you.”

“But . . .” Peter said. He opened his free hand in a show of helplessness. “But there has to be something I might do.”

In the far distance, a herd of antelopes startled and hopped away.

“If you think of any way in which I might be of service,” Peter said at last, “I am yours to command.”

Emily smiled and lowered her head, feeling her cheeks color. She had thought he was hers, but it was good to hear him say it nonetheless. Still, Emily knew now that there were two kinds of marriage—a marriage in law, such as she had with Nigel, which meant very little at all, and a marriage of minds and hearts, such as she hoped to establish with Peter. She would not let the law stand in the way of what was right. There would always be time to ratify their legal situation later on, should she and he and Nigel survive this journey.

But for now, she would struggle for the marriage she wanted. It had better chances of being a success than her legal union with Nigel.

“Oh, I will ask for your help,” she said to Peter, who smiled at her, “as soon as I think how you might give it.”

THE DRAGON'S LAIR

The way Emily saw it, Peter was now attracted to
her, but not so strongly that his reason and loyalty to Nigel could not overcome. However, she knew he desired her. She could feel the heat that smoldered between them. If she allowed him to satisfy his desire, would that not bind him to her?

Peter Farewell was a gentleman. He belonged to an old family. If he gave in to his desire for Emily, he would feel obligated to her. He'd feel forced to shield her from the consequences of her transgression with him, to protect her and to take care of her.

And Emily thought she could take advantage of the moment, while she was the only Englishwoman anywhere near and while Peter felt sympathetic toward her loneliness and her situation.

Looking at Peter's broad shoulders and the easy, effortless elegance of his walk, Emily stopped herself from sighing. Tonight she would be his in fact, which must trump her merely legal connection to Nigel.

Kitwana played into her hands. He'd been peevish and impatient with everyone all day, yelling at lagging carriers and, for inscrutable reasons, shooting annoyed looks at Peter. The sun had barely set when Kitwana put down the bundle he'd been helping another carrier with. “It would be best to camp here for the night,” he said.

Peter left Emily's side and strode forward.

“Here?” he asked Kitwana. “Where we'll be exposed to everyone's sight for miles?”

They stood in a flat promontory amid the uneven, green landscape. It was an unusually flat, denuded space.

“Natives can see us from every side,” Peter said. “What's to stop them from attacking us in the night?”

“If they do,” Kitwana said, glaring at Peter in a most impudent way, “we'll see them coming.”

“I say we go farther on.” Peter signaled with his hand to move forward. “Pick up your burdens. Let's walk to that place with the boulders and the large trees, up there.” He pointed. “Night won't fall before we've had the time to find a small clearing within it, and then we can camp there. We'll be more protected.”

“Or our enemies better hidden,” Kitwana said, and stared sharply at Peter, his gaze full of fury. He glared around him, at the carriers. “None of you pick up anything.”

The few of them who had lifted their burdens set them down again.

Peter started at Kitwana as though he had spoken in code. What did the carrier mean by
enemies
? Did Kitwana know something about the Hyena Men?

Impatient to carry out her own plan, Emily frowned.

“Look, you hired me to guide you and I'm guiding you. In this terrain, this is the best place to stay,” Kitwana said. “I am your guide and I tell you we're stopping here.”

“Well, I say we go on,” Peter Farewell said.

Nigel came forward. The girl, Nassira, came with him, by his side as if she were his wife—his woman—and acknowledgd as such. She whispered urgently to him.

Nigel looked bewildered and stared down at the woman with a puzzled stare. She nodded once—the nod of a woman commanding a man who knows better than to disobey. Nigel's eyebrows came together over his high-bridged nose in a puzzled frown, then parted again. “If you're sure,” he said.

It looked to Emily as if he was speaking to Nassira, but he was turning as he spoke and he might very well have been speaking to Kitwana. “If you're sure, of course we'll follow your opinion.”

Then he looked around, the bewildered expression back in his eyes. “I say,” he told Kitwana, “this does seem like a very strange place to camp.”