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Treasure of Egypt
Treasure of Egypt Read online
BOOK I
TREASURE OF THE ANCIENTS
Copyright © 2010 Barbara Ivie Green
www.barbaraiviegreen.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
Use of this ebook is limited to the personal, non-commercial use. All rights reserved, including right to reproduce, displayed, broadcast, or republished in any form including, but not limited to, distribution or storage in a system for retrieval. No transmission, publication, or exploitation of the ebook in part or in whole is permitted without the prior written permission of the Author Barbara Ivie Green. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.
Acknowledgments
My profound thanks to two dear friends, Dugie and Marsha, for being the best reader’s one could have; my sister, Diane, for her comments, and my mother, for her unwavering support and insights. I thank my daughters, who continue to be my inspiration. I couldn’t have written this without you.
Special thanks to Peggy Ireland, for her editing skills and patience, and Glass Slipper WebDesign for the book cover.
For my husband,
Shelby.
For bringing laughter
into my life,
and making me believe
in heroes.
Chapter 1
London, England 1863
The taverns beside the wharf were busier than usual Alec noted as he stepped from his coach and looked up to his driver, “I don’t expect to be here long.”
“Aye, M’lord,” Porter nodded as he eyed the street. “I’d be keepin' an eye out for the riff-raff. No tellin' whose lurkin' about on a night like this.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec replied, slightly amused at Porter’s concern. He turned, surveying the entrance of the Boars Head. From the sounds of it, the gaming hell was in full swing. He watched as three young blades walked out the double doors, jovially hitting one another on the back, their anecdotes alluding to a night already well spent.
Ah, the young, Alec thought as he walked into the smoke filled tavern, they’d be lucky to wake with only a hangover, and not some other affliction.
Singing from a quartet upon the stage in the main salon mingled with the gaiety of the crowd. His brow lifted slightly as a woman in a scarlet gown approached him. The tight corset she wore barely concealed her generous favors.
“Hello handsome. Would ye' care for some company?”
Alec favored her with a lazy smile, “Just a whiskey tonight, love.” He cradled her elbow as she turned to fetch his drink, “And bring it from the bottle, not the well.”
“Aye, luv,” she nodded breathlessly, tripping over herself as she left.
Alec knew he’d been blessed with the kind of looks that women desired. He also knew how to use them to get what he wanted. In this case, a drink that wouldn’t kill him when he awoke on the morrow.
Alec turned his attention back to the crowded room. He hadn’t visited this particular establishment in years, yet it was exactly the same as he remembered… down to the smell. Cheap perfume and cigar smoke hung thick in the air.
Apparently, he hadn’t missed anything. That is, with the exception of the lovely, young dove dressed in canary yellow, swinging from the ceiling. Alec stood for a moment watching as she swept over the crowd from her high perch.
The new attraction had drawn quite a crowd. Heckles from the men below were enough to entice the girl to show more of her nicely turned ankle. Her actions were met with cheering applause as she leaned back in the swing and laughed, the movement only succeeded in exposing more of her shapely calf.
A large woman belted out a bawdy tune on the stage as the audience roared with laughter over her suggestive lyrics and comical gestures. No wonder Samuel had wanted to meet up here tonight. It was his kind of place… They were only missing the elephants, Alec thought with amusement as he glanced around the room filled with a collection of ruffians, rakehells and even wilder women, for any sign of his friend.
Just then, a woman’s sultry voice spoke at his side before she brushed up against him. “If you’re looking for company darlin', you’re in luck. I’m right here.”
Alec couldn’t help but show his amusement as he smiled down at the lovely redhead. The green of her eyes matched that of her dress, while the red rose tucked into her décolletage matched that of her reddened lips.
Noting the direction of his gaze, she pressed her body up to his, rubbing her hand along his chest.
Alec’s smile deepened. “Actually, I was just thinking to try my luck at the tables.”
She moved to grasp his forearm, “Well then, follow me darlin'. I know just the table where we can both be comfortable and I promise you’ll get lucky.”
“Leavin' so soon?” The woman in the scarlet gown pouted up at him from his other side as she held out his glass, “Sure I can’t change yer mind 'bout that?”
“Hhmm,” Alec responded to their combined assault with good humor, “A most delightful offer, perhaps later.” He accepted the drink, using it as an excuse to extricate himself from their grasps. As he did so, he expertly slipped a coin into her cleavage in return for it.
“We’ll both be dancin' the Cancan later if you’d like to watch.” The woman in green swiveled her hips.
“Tempting ladies, truly, but for now…” Alec gifted his would be seducers with another smile, showing the dimple in his cheek as he left them.
“He’s a right handsome one 'e is,” the woman in red sighed as the other woman nodded wistfully.
Obviously, there was no peace to be had this night, Alec thought with some derision, as he headed to the back room. He was simply being hounded by women this evening. As it was, he’d already escaped a crowded ballroom where the debutants had practically mauled him and now this.
Normally, he enjoyed the attentions lavished on him by the fairer sex, but tonight he was simply tired of it. Which was why he now sought the sanctity of the game room; he could relax there without being accosted.
As Alec passed under the tall entry arch, there appeared to be an opening at one of the tables. He crossed the short distance and approached the players, “Gentlemen, care if I join you?”
A man with a bristle mustache answered, “By all means, good man. I was beginning to think that play would be cut short with no takers. Lord Campton’s the name and this chap here is Lord—”
“Bristol,” the man seated across the table finished with a nod.
“Monsieur Blanoiś,” the Frenchman sitting to his right offered up with a dignified nod of his head.
An older gentleman with a walking cane moved to stand for his introduction.
“Please stay seated Sir. No need for such formality,” Alec hid a wry smile. Even in a den of iniquity, the older set was such sticklers for protocol. It never failed to amuse him.
“Lord Langston,” the older man leaned back, settling himself once again.
Alec introduced himself as he took his seat and play resumed. It didn’t take long for him to evaluate the competition. Bristol’s mustache twitched when he bluffed and Campton drummed his fingers lightly on the table. The Frenchman’s dark eyes gave very little away, yet his mouth tightened into a thin line when the cards turned against him. The old Lord was the hardest to discern. The man revealed nothing, even when he’d lost ten thousand pounds.
Strands of the rousing, yet forbidden, Cancan drifted back from the main salon as the cards were dealt once again. Alec could feel the tension in the Frenchman sitting next to him as he sipped from his drink. The man had lost a considerable amou
nt in the last hand... his lips had thinned to near vanishing.
Alec briefly looked at his hand as the old Lord placed his wager.
“I’ll see your bet and raise you five-thousand,” Bristol met his bid.
Alec could feel the anticipation mount as he considered the other players. Lord Campton straightened his handlebars as he drew upon his pipe, while Bristol nervously strummed his fingers.
“I’ll see that and raise it ten,” Monsieur Blanoiś sat back swirling the contents of his drink.
Alec watched the Frenchman over the rim of his own glass, noting the subtle changes in his attitude. He looked like a man who believed his luck had finally changed.
More than one man in the room took notice as the stakes became considerable. Several ladies had even braved the back room, joining the crowd that had gathered.
Alec glanced at his own cards briefly before placing several notes into the center, “I’ll see it and raise it twenty.”
The old Lord surprised everyone as he slid the near fortune in front of him into the center of the table. “One hundred thousand pounds,” he announced.
An audible gasp was heard throughout the room as the old man sat forward, showing the first emotion since Alec had sat down at the table.
“Of course I didn’t expect play to be so deep this evening,” the Frenchman gestured with his hand as he explained. “I will have to sign a note.”
“You’ve a voucher for only half that amount,” Campton raised his voice as the Frenchman signed the card. “How is it that we know you’re good for it?”
The Frenchman’s eyes sparkled dangerously in the low light. Though he kept a tight lid on his emotions, Alec wouldn’t be surprised if he called the Englishman out over the slight. “I have signed the note,” he countered indignantly.
“Do you have collateral to back this up?” The older gentleman asked.
The Frenchman took his time considering his next words. “Oui,” he finally nodded. Reaching inside his coat pocket he pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment. He leaned forward dramatically, holding it up for all to see, “This gentlemen, is a map leading to the greatest treasure known to man.”
With an action bordering on reverence, he slid his note for one hundred thousand pounds within the scroll and placed it in the middle of the gaming table. “I use it only as collateral.”
Alec raised an eyebrow in response. From where he sat, it looked to be a mottled, old scrap tied with a leather string. It took considerable effort to hide his amusement over the man’s bet.
“What else do you have?” Lord Campton scoffed, drawing even more interest from the other tables. He sat back with a smirk on his face that even his bristle mustache couldn’t hide.
“You can’t be serious,” Lord Bristol shook his head. Snickers were heard throughout the room in response to his words.
“I stand good for it. I assure you, I have the funds,” Monsieur Blanoiś insisted as he waited for his offer to be accepted.
A woman’s high-pitched trill could be heard above the din in reaction to his words. “That’s what they all say,” she snorted heartily. The raucous laughter of the crowd mingled with that of the music in the background.
Lord Langston interrupted the commotion by holding up his hand, “I will accept it as such.” There was a loud murmur among those watching.
Bristol threw his cards down and shook his head, “Too rich for my blood.”
“I’m out,” Campton muttered sitting back in a cloud of smoke.
Alec eyed the crowd that had gathered before slowly counting out the desired amount, sliding it toward the pile, “Call.”
The floor itself pounced in rhythm with the vibration of the dancers in the other room, as Lord Langston placed his cards on the table. A full house, three aces and two kings stared up from the table. The whole room buzzed with anticipation.
The Frenchman could hardly contain his exhilaration as he triumphantly spread out his hand. It was a straight flush, starting with the eight of clubs and ending with the queen.
There was a murmur of excitement from the onlookers who pressed forward to catch a glimpse. The amount of this game alone would live in infamy, let alone the cards being played to earn it. The Frenchman leaned forward to collect his prize. There was only one hand that could beat him and those odds where astronomical.
“One moment please,” Alec leaned forward stilling the man’s hands over the pile. Slowly he unfolded his cards displaying a royal spade flush, ace high. The tension in the room exploded as the audience gasped in surprise. The Frenchman sat back muttering to himself as Alec leaned forward to collect his winnings.
“It’s a raid!” A man called from the hall outside.
Laughter in the main salon quickly turned to shouting as the gaming room was flooded with fleeing patrons screaming, “Run! Run! It’s a raid!”
Alec stood and quickly gathered the rest of the pile before him, stuffing money into his pockets as men pressed toward the door.
“I’ll see you in the morning to settle my debt,” the Frenchman shouted as he was caught in the throng and whisked away.
Alec looked up to see the old gentleman watching him calmly as he sat back comfortably in his chair.
“You’ll probably never see him again,” Lord Langston replied, seemingly serene amongst the chaos. “I’d be happy to purchase the note from you if you would like. After all I was the one who pressured you to accept it.”
Alec was surprised by the gesture as he picked up the scroll and fingered it gingerly. The old man was probably right. The Frenchman was probably halfway to Paris by now. “That I believe is why they call it gambling,” Alec replied as he tucked the map inside his coat.
“Suit yourself.” The older gentleman sighed as he took out a cigar from his pocket and nipped the end.
The whistles of the police grew louder as the room emptied. A bright white flash from the corner caught Alec’s eye. He recognized the bar maid who’d brought him his drink earlier, though her ensemble now consisted of a short skirt and petty coat, the white frills of which had drawn his attention.
“Over here luv,” she beckoned to him as she opened up a secret panel in the wall a few feet away, “Quickly!”
Alec considered again the older gentleman, “Could I assist you to leave?”
“Son,” he rolled the cigar in his mouth. “At my age, I’d have to try hard to convince them I’d been up to something other than playing cards.”
“I bid you goodnight then, Sir.” Alec smiled at his wit before turning towards the woman who still waited for him.
As the police drew nearer, Alec stepped inside the hidden passage, despite the fact that it could very well turn out to be a trap. They were immediately enclosed in darkness as the woman slammed the false door closed behind him.
“Follow me,” she whispered after lighting a taper.
Bent over in the cramped space, Alec received a face full of fluff on several occasions as he trailed closely behind. At last they came to a door where they could stand. She paused breathless before it, trying the handle with little effect.
“Allow me,” he said reaching past her, turning the lever. Obviously well used, the concealed door slid soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. Hidden behind dense foliage it opened, not into the alleyway as he might have guessed, but in a walled garden several shops down the street. The woman at his side quickly extinguished the light as she peered out.
“I’ll be damned,” Alec whispered in surprise as he watched the Bobbies chase several people across the way. Even more amazing was that rounding the corner, was his coachman driving slowly past, he chuckled. Lady luck was indeed on his side tonight!
He looked down at the woman who stood in the doorway. In the streetlight she looked much younger than before. “You deserve a reward,” he whispered.
She pressed her breasts into him, turning her lips up to his for a kiss in response. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills, pressing them into her hand
. “For saving me,” he winked, before running across the short expanse of grass towards his moving carriage.
“Laws Guv!” She cried in surprise as she counted the huge sum, tucking it into her décolletage. “Sure you wouldn’t care for a tumble!”
He really had no idea, but he’d probably just given her several thousand pounds, of course, she’d be inviting him back. Alec climbed aboard the moving coach to the oblivion of the police down the road and hollered over to his driver, “Just like old times, eh Porter?”
“Aye, that it is M’lord.” Porter hardly seemed surprised by the event as he steered clear of the paddy wagons. “Home, Sir?”
Alec nodded as he opened the door and settled himself inside. Sitting back against the tufted seat he sighed, he could not imagine how the night could be any sweeter. Not only had he managed to win an incredible sum with the hand of a lifetime, but also a treasure map.
A map to the greatest treasure known to man... It was intriguing to be sure. Alec removed the scroll from the inside pocket of his jacket, rolling it in his fingers. The old man’s interest in buying it had certainly piqued his curiosity. Absently, he tapped it against the palm of his hand before putting it back.
As he alighted from the carriage, Alec handed Porter a handsome tip. “Well done, my man,” he complimented him as he headed to the front stoop of his town house.
“The Misses will be right 'appy Sir,” Porter smiled as he pocketed the notes.
Alec let himself in, having dismissed his butler earlier in the evening. It was customary when he knew a late night was in store. Although it was still early by some standards, the clock in the foyer showed half past two. He began slowly shrugging off his coat as he headed toward his study. A glass of brandy was just what he needed to wind down before bed.
Whack! The wood splintered next to his face as he opened the door to the darkened room.
“What the hell!” he ducked as a fist slammed into the side of his head from the other direction. The blow knocked him against another man who tried to wrestle his arms to his side. Alec could barely make out their forms in the dim light filtering through the window.