Tremayne followed. He glanced up at the cloudless azure sky and smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
She sent him a smug look. “It hasn’t rained here for over a hundred years. It would be nothing less than a miracle.”
She turned to go back down the hill, but the glint of something metallic in the sand caught her eye. She poked it with the toe of her boot, and the glitter of silver flashed in the sun. She bent down to examine it further.
“What’s that you’ve found?”
“I’m not sure.”
She tried to pick it up, then snatched her hand back as her fingers touched the gleaming metal. It was burning hot—presumably from being out in the sun all day. More cautiously, she brushed the sand aside, exposing the object. A red stone flashed, like a tiny drop of blood, and to her amazement a chain, followed by some kind of jeweled pendant, emerged from the sand.
Hester stared at it, her heart racing. The thing was undoubtedly ancient, although she wasn’t sure how she knew that. Perhaps because the design was oddly seductive.
She lifted the thing fully free of the sand. The pendant was shaped like a scorpion gripping the silver chain in its pincers. One large cabochon ruby was set in the center of its back, and smaller gems glittered along the slender curve of its tail. It was extremely realistic, almost life-size, and Hester gave a shiver of fascinated revulsion. The reticulated silver sections of the body and tail allowed it to move; it undulated sinuously with the faint tremor of her hand.
It seemed ridiculous to think of a piece of jewelry asthreatening, but for some reason the description fit. She gave herself a mental shake and stood.
“Good heavens. Look at this.”
Chapter 5
Tremayne gave a low, impressed whistle. “You have the devil’s own luck, Morden. Let me see.”
Hester lifted the necklace for inspection. Without thought, she undid the clasp, reached around her nape and put it on. It was surprisingly heavy. The high neck of her cotton dress prevented the hot metal from touching her skin, but she could feel the weight of the pendant pressing against her.
Tremayne reached out a finger and traced the chain across her collarbone. Her breath caught in her throat. He reached the pendant and paused, and Hester was sure he must be able to feel the telltale thundering of her heart through the silver. Intent on his task, he followed the shape of the scorpion’s body down, down, flattening the creature’s tail against her breastbone. The tip of it, the sting, uncurled to nestle perfectly in the valley at the top of her breasts.
Hester’s skin burned. A rush of some strong emotion—anger or passion—flashed through her veins.
“Beautiful,” Harry breathed.
He lifted his eyes to hers, and for a split second she glimpsed a depth of feeling that was shocking in its intensity. Was it anguish?Desire? His gaze burned into hers, direct and faintly challenging. He parted his lips as if to speak, and Hester leaned toward him, desperate to hear what he was about to say—but a dog barked in the distance, and the odd moment was broken.
He blinked as if coming out of a trance, dropped his hand, and stepped back.
“It suits you.” He cleared his throat and sent her an easy smile. “This proves the utter injustice of life. I noticed it during the wars. Brave, decent men got blown to pieces, while others—cowardly, undeserving idiots—dodged bullets time and time again.” He indicated the necklace. “This is another example. The universe throws a ridiculously valuable artifact into the path of the one woman in a hundred-mile radius who doesn’t need the cash.”
Hester unfastened the necklace with a deep feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She placed it carefully in the pocket of her split skirt.
“What are you going to do with it?” Harry asked casually. “If you sell it, then I should definitely get half the proceeds.”
She gave a choked laugh. “And how do you figure that?”
“You would never have been up here if it hadn’t been for me. Admit it.”
That was undoubtedly true.
“If you give me half the money,” he coaxed, “I won’t need to sell any mummies. I bet Henry Salt or the British Museum would pay handsomely to add it to their collections.”
Hester shook her head. “You’re such a jackal. This should stay in Egypt. It’s part of the country’s heritage. I’m going to hand it over to the Bey himself. He told me he has plans to open some kind of national museum.”
Tremayne gave a disappointed sigh. “I’ll just have to keep my eye out for some mummies, then.” He laughed at her frown as he stepped past her and started down the hillside. “You have no right to look so disapproving. I’m only a second son. I’ve left it a bit late to become a doctor or a tutor. And I doubt I’ll be allowed to join the clergy—remember the Venetian nuns?”
“That’s what the marriage mart is for,” Hester said lightly, ignoring the twinge that pierced her heart. “You need to find yourself a nice, rich heiress. Some sweet, biddable thing who covets the illustrious Tremayne ancestry.”
He sent her a lopsided smile. “Tried that. The last heiress I asked to marry me turned me down flat.”
She tried not to wince.