What the River Knows (Secrets of the Nile, #1)

Whit let out a snort. “Society would never let you be so progressive.”

“Maybe not now,” I said lightly, a delicious thrill skimming down my spine from the heat of his fingers I felt through the fabric. “But someday.”

I had to remind myself that he had a betrothed.

Whit stepped away from me as if I were an open flame. “I’ve finished. Unless you’d also like me to brush your bloody hair and braid it for you?”

“Do you know how to—”

“No.”

I quickly braided it and followed him out of the room, trying to catch up to his long stride. We reached the lobby and briskly walked around, looking outside on the terrace and then the several alcoves in the adjacent rooms. Elvira wasn’t in the dining hall, nor was she in the ballroom. The clock read close to noon.

“Whit,” I said slowly, panic rising in a smothering wave. “Where is she?”

“Let’s go speak with Sallam again,” he said. “Try not to worry. She might have linked up with an old acquaintance.”

“She knows no one here,” I protested as he led me to the front desk. The lobby teemed with people and we had to skirt around them.

“Don’t forget that Cairo has an extraordinary number of visitors this time of year,” he said. “Look around, she might have seen an old friend.”

Sallam greeted us with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hayes and Se?orita Olivera. It’s nice to see the two of you together. You’ve just missed Se?or Marqués—he was off to a business meeting. I believe you’re expected to join him? Shall I acquire a hackney cab for you?”

“Not at this moment,” Whit said. “Can you tell us if you’ve seen Se?orita Montenegro this morning?”

He blinked and stoked his graying beard. “Come to think of it, I thought I saw you, Se?orita Olivera, getting into a carriage this morning, but wearing a different dress. It must have been your cousin, then.”

I stood motionless, refusing to believe my cousin could have been so silly. “What kind of carriage? Did you see who she was with?”

Sallam shook his head. “It was only a quick glance, I’m afraid, but he bore the look of your uncle. Tall and broad shouldered. In fact, I assumed it was Ricardo.”

“My uncle? Tío Ricardo took her somewhere?” I repeated, fear pricking my heart. Now I understood why she’d gotten into the carriage in the first place. She had known her companion. I turned to Whit. “What do we do? How do we find her?”

Whit placed a gentle hand on my arm, about to lead me away from the front desk when Sallam said, “A message arrived for you this morning, Se?orita Olivera.” He rummaged through the cubbies and produced a small, square-shaped envelope. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar.

I took the note and thanked him, and followed Whit as I tore it open. There was a single sheet of paper inside, along with two tickets: one for a seat on the train leaving for Alexandria the next morning, and another for a steamship heading to Argentina. I impatiently yanked out the note and read the scant few lines.

Then I read it again, my heart beating wildly against my ribs as if it were a wild animal locked in a cage. I barely noticed Whit stopping and taking hold of the note.

He read it quickly and the strong line of his jaw locked. It might have been made of iron. “Shit.”

My pulse thundered, making me strangely lightheaded. I barely recognized my surroundings as Whit took me back up the stairs, down the long corridor, and inside the room I shared with my cousin.

Elvira.

Elvira, who had been kidnapped.

“Give me the note,” I demanded, rounding on Whit. “There’s been some mistake.”

He handed it back to me wordlessly, his eyes blazing as I lowered my gaze and read the lines again, written in a messy scrawl.

Dear Inez,

I’m afraid I had to take very drastic measures to ensure your safety. Elvira is lost to you, and while I’m sure you will never be able to forgive me, I do hope you’ll understand in time. Perhaps when you have a daughter of your own. You must leave Cairo tonight.

It will only be a matter of time before they’ve realized they’ve taken the wrong girl and come after you.

Lourdes



My hands shook as the note fell to the floor. My mother had sacrificed Elvira. The sister I never had. Her selfishness staggered me. Mamá only cared that they never find what was most vulnerable. Someone her associates could use against her. A weakness to exploit.

Me.

Whit bent and scooped it up, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What is it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing, I—”

“Tell me.” Panic clawed its talons into me. I couldn’t imagine where my cousin could be in a town I barely knew. Some of my terror must have shown on my face because Whit bent his knees, his blue gaze now level with mine. I didn’t try to hide my fear.

He was silent, clearly worrying about something.

“Tell me,” I demanded again.

“I wondered if they meant the warehouses by the docks,” he said slowly. “I know there’s been smuggling activities there from when Ricardo had me snooping around to see what your mother was up to. I followed her to Bulaq and observed their comings and goings.”

“Whit, I have to find a carriage. I’m going after her.”

Whit rarely shouted but when he did, it made my ears ring. “Absolutely not!”

“They want me,” I said. “Don’t you understand? Read my mother’s note again. She must have had one of her associates mark Elvira in some way. Last night, we wore nearly identical dresses. Anyone could have confused us.” A horrifying thought struck me. “The man she was dancing with . . . he might be working with my mother . . .” My voice trailed off. I gripped the lapel of Whit’s jacket. “She’s in danger, but it ought to be me.”

“So you’re going to take her place?” Whit asked. “You could die.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. My mother will hear of what’s happened, and she’ll come for me. Look how far she went to warn me.”

“Your mother? Don’t be naive!” Whit shouted again. “Lourdes would allow your cousin to die. She probably killed your father and then lied to you about it. She’s heartless and conniving and manipulative. Why do you think her enemies had to resort to kidnapping? She must have done something unforgivable, and they want whatever she stole in exchange for your life.”

“You’re talking about the artifacts.”

His jaw locked. “I’d bet you every pound I have that she double-crossed them.”

“My mother might let Elvira die for me, but I can’t do that. I’m not my mother.”

Whit gripped my arms, his face wild and desperate. “I won’t let you do this.”

“I don’t answer to you.”

“You don’t answer to anyone, which is part of the issue,” Whit snapped.

“I wasn’t aware I had issues.”

“Of course you do, everyone does.”

“Well, then what are yours?” I asked. “Actually, don’t bother. I know them.”

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