“Well, it did that. No one is particularly keen on investigating the Kaiser.”
“I only supplied the train,” Annabelle said. “Blackstone supplied the crew, and the German contact the ship. Lucie’s magazine at London Print shared news about the pieces with tens of thousands of households, good luck with interviewing all possible suspects. Before this goes any further at all, however, I was hoping you could take care of the sheriff.”
Her confidence in him warmed his chest despite himself. No, he didn’t like being left in the dark, but he very much liked that she thought he could fix anything.
“When does the day nanny arrive?” he asked. It came out clipped.
What she saw in his eyes made her blush. “At ten o’clock,” she supplied.
He wanted to pull the ribbon from her hair. He wanted to part her robe . . . James squirmed and plucked Sebastian’s cravat pin loose with astounding dexterity. Sebastian returned him into Annabelle’s waiting arms.
“Whatever you have scheduled from ten o’clock, can you reschedule it?”
Her plush lips curved into a smile. “To what time?”
“Lunch.”
They made thorough use of those two hours.
Chapter 39
The breeze blew freely through the high arches of the mansion’s balcony and carried the rich, warm fragrance of a summer afternoon in the mountains. A drowsy atmosphere lay over the family drawing room. Aunt Georgette was lounging on the striped silk divan, snoozing after a smoke. Charbel and Layal were playing Dama on the floor, next to the table that was cluttered with empty coffee cups and platters with leftover fruit. Elias was sprawled on a sofa, sharing an argileh with Nassim. Behind a veil of curling white smoke, his face was deceptively still, as if carved in stone.
Hana, the doorman, entered the room, his house shoes soundless on the marble floor.
“Mr. Elias. A gentleman is here to see you.”
Elias’s dispassionate gaze moved in the man’s direction. “Who is it?”
“A gentleman from abroad.”
He sat up, slowly. “Describe him.”
It was an older, dark-haired Scotsman, wasn’t it, keen on avenging his daughter’s honor.
“He is a young, fair-haired Englishman,” said Hana. “His name was unintelligible.”
A tiny spark glimmering in Elias’s gut extinguished back to black.
“He asked me to give you this,” Hana said, and held up an object.
Elias waved him closer. “Show me.”
The object was the size of a small pinecone, wrapped in fabric and tied with string. The fabric was, in fact, a handkerchief. Embroidered like a woman’s. Premonition struck his chest like lightning, making all the fine hairs on his arms stand on end. He felt Nassim’s alert gaze on him.
Layal craned her graceful neck. “What is it?”
She wasn’t the only one encroaching with a curious look in her eyes.
Elias rose and left the room with long strides.
He unwrapped the mysterious object on his way out the door into the front yard. The sunlight gleamed off polished ivory. The white king had returned. His head jerked up.
A man stood near the bottom of the stairs, evidently a guide. He held two disgruntled mules on their reins. Next to him, the English visitor. The young man looked red and quite miserable, Elias thought as he approached them; the foreigner had eaten dust during his ride up the mountains. The cut of the man’s suit, the high forehead, and raffish blond hair suggested an aristocrat.
Elias planted himself in front of him. “Ahlan wa sahlan. Welcome to my family’s home. I’m Elias Iskander Khoury, how can I help you?”
“Salam . . .” the cultured voice floundered. “Good day, sir.” A hand was offered, and hazel eyes met his. “Lord Peregrin Devereux. I’m a friend of Wester Ross.”
The chess piece bit into Elias’s palm. “Where is his lordship?”
“Her ladyship,” the lordling corrected. “She took a room at the Hotel Allemand Blaich, near the port.”
Catriona.
His body had reflexively angled west, toward the coastline. His heart was pounding, his muscles readied for a dash down the road. He shook himself. In the distance, the sun was already descending over the sea. It was half a day’s ride to reach the port town of Chekka, and several hours on a sailboat that took people from Chekka to Beirut. He’d have to ride into the night only to miss the last departure of the boat.
“Who is with her now?” he asked the Englishman.
“She’s keeping her own company,” came the hesitant reply.
Displeasure ripped through Elias like a shooting flame. “You traveled with her, alone?”
Lord Peregrin Devereux flinched, and Elias realized he had taken a step toward the young man. Who was, on all accounts, a traveler, and his guest. His jaw clenched with the vain effort to rein in his temper. “You traveled with her, alone,” he repeated, “and you abandoned her in a foreign city?”
Lord Peregrin’s chin rose. “I doubt it will improve your opinion of me, sir, but for what it’s worth, I was forced into this appalling scheme by the lady herself.”
What kind of man are you, Elias thought, to allow yourself to be forced into idiotic, improper acts that endanger a woman’s name and safety? As he stared into Lord Peregrin’s perspiring face, he felt supremely annoyed because he himself had been exactly that kind of man.
“The lady knows her own mind,” he said curtly.
Lord Peregrin’s alert posture relaxed a fraction. “Indeed.”
Elias clapped him on the shoulder and left his hand there. “Lord Peregrin. It would be our honor to have you as our guest. Our house is your house, rest, join us for the evening meal. Have a room for the night.” He cast a last glance at the horizon. “I shall leave for Beirut shortly before dawn.”
“Gladly, sir. I appreciate it.”
Elias gestured one of their guards closer and instructed him to provide the guide and his mules with rest and refreshments. Activity broke out at the entrance to the main house; his family was gathering. The women were absent, probably supervising the preparations for the guest, coffee, sweets, and the sitting room reserved for visitors. He turned back to the English lord. His mouth was smiling but his voice had an edge when he leaned in close. “I shall introduce you to my family as a fellow student from Cambridge days. You happen to be in Beirut for pleasure and came to see me on a whim. You don’t mention the lady. Not a word.”
Lord Peregrin squirmed a little, possibly perturbed at a stranger claiming his personal space and whispering threats into his ear, but when Elias’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder, he peered sideways at Elias’s face and nodded. “Very well, I don’t mention the lady.”
When they ascended the stairs, Lord Peregrin fell into step with Elias.
“What was our college?” he asked from the corner of his mouth. “Did we row together? You have a good height for rowing. So do I, but I’m more of a cricket man myself . . .”
The next few hours would feel like years.
* * *