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Daughter of the God-King(58)



But he was unrepentant. “You had the disk but did not tell me—I could not rule out the possibility that you were aware of its significance.”

“I am no traitor.”

He tilted his head. “I could not be certain—and you were not honest with me.”

Eyes flashing, she retorted, “That’s rich, coming from you.” With a monumental effort, she barely refrained from stamping her foot.

He stood silent while she tried to calm herself; it did appear as though he had a point—and that he had been acting in a consistent manner throughout, now that she knew his motivation. With a deep breath, she controlled her temper and asked, “How did you know I had it?”

“When the intruder came in—I saw it.”

She made a wry mouth. “And here I thought you were admiring my nightdress.”

“It is a most excellent nightdress.” His gaze rested ever so briefly on her breasts.

As she had already determined that he was very much attracted to her breasts, she was unsurprised by this lapse. With a mental shake, she took herself in hand and returned to the point of the conversation. “Why is the disk important—how did you know of it?”

“I eavesdropped on your parents,” he admitted without a flicker of guilt. “You must let me examine it, Hattie—I believe it holds a clue.”

Torn, she unfolded her hand and looked at her necklace. “Why should I trust you?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Because I love you.”





Chapter 24





Off balance, Hattie dropped her gaze and stammered, “I thought as much.” She had little doubt his declaration was sincere—he was mixing his accents again.

“I will not allow you to be harmed, Hattie; but it is very important that I see it.”

Opening her hand, she lifted it to him. “I will allow you to copy it, but I would like to keep it, if I may—they gave me so little.”

Taking it from her hand, he held it up to the light of the sconce. “Warn me if anyone comes.”

This seemed unlikely, as there was little pedestrian traffic at this back stairway, but she willingly kept a look-out. “Should I fetch paper and a pen?”

“No.”

To be useful, she explained, “The figure is of Hathor on the one side.”

“That may be of significance—what does she represent?”

Hattie tried not to blush. “Fertility.”

She watched him turn the disk over and study the markings on the other side, unable to glean anything from his expression. “Do you know what it means?”

“It is in a Napoleonic cipher that should not be difficult to translate.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Did you show it to the solicitor?”

“No—he made me uneasy.”

He returned to his scrutiny. “Someone else was made uneasy.”

She decided she may as well ask. “Did you kill him?”

Glancing up, he was almost amused. “No.” Relinquishing the necklace back to her, he instructed, “You must secret it on your person in a way that it is not visible to any—not around your neck.”

She nodded.

He was very serious. “You must tell no one you have it—no one at all. Do you understand?”

This seemed evident, and nodding again, she ventured, “Do you think it would be best if you carried it?” Perhaps she was being foolish, if it was so very dangerous.

But he shook his head. “It is safer with you.”

Because, of course, he could be killed if anyone thought he held the information—so many others had been killed and now it made complete sense. It was probably why he memorized the markings instead of writing them down. “You will be careful?” He was secretive to the point of exasperation but if he were killed she didn’t know how she would cope, the wretched man.

“I will.”

Finished, he handed her the necklace and they faced each other again. Suddenly shy after his declaration of love, Hattie looked away. “I should be going—I wouldn’t want to come in so late that Bing shoots me by mistake.”

Staying her with a hand on her arm, he sought permission, this time. “I would like to kiss you, if I may.”

“I have no other jewelry to wrest.”

With a small smile, he bent in and whispered, “Nevertheless.”

The kiss was soft and chaste—as though he could not be gentle enough. It made her want to cry again but instead, when he drew away she whispered, “I know where the strongbox is.”

She had shocked him, and felt a sense of accomplishment—he who was so unshockable. His hands found her arms and he squeezed them gently. “Hattie,” he said with quiet intensity. “Tell me.”