Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(41)

“Look.” I extended my right arm, now wrapped in bandages. “Old-fashioned healing at its best.”

Slowly, his lips spread into a grin. His forehead relaxed, and his eyes crinkled. “I’m glad.” Wiping at his face, he rose to his full height—which brought his eyes level with mine.

And the awkwardness took over. Unflinching and unafraid might work well for him, but I suddenly felt very exposed.

So I dropped my gaze as I forced the proper words to come. “Back in the woods, you asked me why I could not promise to never save you again.”

He swallowed. “And?”

“And . . .” I bit my lip. This had really seemed quite easy to say in my head. “And the reason I cannot promise is . . .”

His face tightened as if bracing for the worst. “Yes?”

“Because I am in love with you.” The words blasted out, and I cringed. Then, to make it all the more mortifying, I stupidly added, “Too.”

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated. “Too.”

“Too.”

His face relaxed, and his eyes flicked to my lips . . . then to my eyes . . . then back to my lips. “If it’s all right with you then . . .” He moved slightly closer. “I’m going to ki—”

A tremor shook through him.

“Daniel?” I grabbed for him, alarmed. But the shudder subsided—and with it went all the discomfort of the moment.

“Are you ill?” I asked.

“I’m fine.” He exhaled through his teeth. “Just . . . just a chill. Nothing to worry about.” In a quick, easy move, he hopped up and twisted around to sit beside me. His legs hung into the open hole, and I swung my legs forward to mimic his.

Then he took my hand and wove his fingers through mine. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s all right.” Feeling bold—and relieved it was just a chill—I traced a finger up his arm, relishing how it raised gooseflesh on his skin. “Perhaps someone is walking over your grave.”

“Or maybe,” he said, bringing his forehead down to mine, “I just don’t like it when we split up.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t I know it, Empress.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, and his lips murmured against my brow, “You’re the toughest girl in the world.”

I drew back, grinning up at him. My heart banged, and my cheeks hurt. This was it. What I had wanted all along. Daniel and I acting as normal lovers do. No fights or problems in sight.

“Eleanor?” Allison’s voice cut into the cargo hold—and right through the moment. “Are you in there? Mr. McIntosh and I are waiting.”

Daniel’s expression darkened. His jaw muscles tensed. “I don’t trust her.”

“She isn’t like her father,” I said softly, pushing to my feet. “Or like Clarence.”

“That doesn’t make her trustworthy.” Daniel peered at me sideways. “Be careful, Empress, all right? I mean it. Fixing this engine is absolutely mindless, and I’ll have nothing to do but worry about you while you’re away.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.” I bobbed him a curtsy, and as I turned to go, he flashed me a fond, happy smile.

I found Allison and Oliver waiting beside a rickety old cart filled with sticks of sugarcane and towed by two donkeys.

Jie stood beside them, examining the sugarcane. Her face showed more animation than it had over our entire journey from Marseille.

Hope swelled in my chest, and I scurried toward her. “Are you coming with us into Cairo?”

She hesitated.

“Please?” I pressed. “When else will you get to see this city?”

Her eyes ran over the cart, then flicked west toward the distant towers. And then to my absolute joy, her lips actually quirked up.

“Yeah,” she said with a slight nod. “I guess I’ll go. Let me just tell Joseph.” She strode off, her head a bit higher than it had been a few minutes before; and as I watched her walk, my heart soared into my throat. Into my brain.

She would be all right. Bit by bit, my best friend would feel like herself again, and she would be all right.

With a happy hum, I twirled around the cart to join Allison and Oliver. Of course, my hum instantly cut off when Allison caught sight of me. “You intend to wear your trousers into the city?” she demanded.

I scowled and hopped onto the back of the cart as Oliver slid up beside me. “I have nothing else, and Jie will also be in trousers.”

“Miss Chen can at least pass as a boy. You”—she stared meaningfully at my chest—“cannot. You could have borrowed one of my dresses, you know.”

I glared. “I could not possibly fit into one of your dresses, you know.”

She didn’t argue with that—nor would she stop her complaints as she clambered onto the cart beside Oliver. Nor would she stop as she popped up her parasol.

Not even as Jie climbed beside me and Oliver shouted for our driver to get going would Allison pause her torrent of nasty words. Indeed, her complaints regarding my person only stopped once children squealing for baksheesh chased after us—giving her a new target for her endless displeasure.

CHAPTER NINE

As our cart rattled from town—which, it turned out, was none other than Heliopolis, ancient city of the Greeks—Oliver happily donned the role of tour guide and began to point out various Egyptian sights. Allison fed his ego with enthusiastic questions, and soon we had seen a fountain of sweet water in which, according to Oliver, the Virgin Mary bathed her feet; a fig tree beneath which Mary rested; and then a garden supposedly planted by Cleopatra.