Joan Wolf Read Free Page A

Albanians who had come to Egypt with the Turkish expedition against Napoleon. Bonaparte routed them at Aboukir. The sea was filled with fugitives swimming for their lives and John fished out Mohammed Ali. They became good friends after that.” He shook his head in wonderment. “Whoever would have thought that that half-drowned fugitive was destined to become the future Pasha of Egypt.”
    “I doubt if destiny was the only factor,” Julianne said dryly.
    He grinned. “Not destiny, eh, but John. You know, it’s a damn good thing he chose to stay in Egypt. If he had come home he would certainly have been hanged by now. Goes his own way, does John. Makes his own laws. Best natural fighter I ever saw. I often thought Wellington would have given half his staff in exchange for John if he’d ever seen him in action. I still don’t know why he wasn’t in the army. Seems the natural place for a man of his talents.”
    “I doubt if he could stand the discipline of the army,” said Julianne, betraying a deeper knowledge of their subject than she had originally confessed to. “He’s not a man you can push into a mold.”
    “That is true,” agreed Mr. Southland with a reminiscent grin. “I remember him at Acre.” He whistled in amazement.
    There was a pause. “I did not know John had been at Acre,” said Julianne.
    Mr. Southland shot her a suddenly shrewd look. “Well, he was. I should go so far as to say he had a good deal to do with our success.”
    Acre was one of the most famous sieges of the late war; a small contingent of Turks led by Sir Sidney Smith’s crew of the Tigre had held out for almost two months against the entire French army and had handed Napoleon his first defeat.
    As Julianne and Mr. Southland watched the young man who was threading his way around the dance floor toward them, two glasses of punch in his hands, Southland continued speaking.  “We were both with Sir Sidney Smith until 1803, when the British pulled out of Egypt. I went home, found I had inherited some money, and left the Navy. John stayed in Egypt. He was having too good a time to leave, he told me. Actually, I think he was up to his neck in the power struggle that ended up with Mohammed All being named pasha. I remember not being very surprised when it finally happened.”
    “No,” murmured Julianne. “One wouldn’t be, I suppose.”
    The young man had reached them by now and she smiled, accepted the punch, introduced the two men, and after a few, minutes Mr. Southland excused himself and went off to the card room.
    After all the guests had left, the duchess crowed over Julianne’s success. “Emily Cowper promised to send around vouchers for Almacks,” she told Julianne. “And Mrs. Drummond Burrell complimented me on your looks and behavior—and she is very difficult to satisfy, my love. And” - this was said as if it was the biggest coup of all - “I thought young Lord Rutherford seemed very taken.”
    Julianne smiled absently. “He was very nice, Grandmama.”
    The old woman looked at her seriously. “Rutherford is the oldest son of the Earl of Minton. He is undoubtedly the biggest catch presently on the marriage mart.”
    “He was very nice,” Julianne repeated obediently.
    The duchess yawned. “I am tired, my love. I’ll bid you good night and seek my bed. You must do the same. I think we will be having visitors tomorrow and I want you to be looking your best.”
    Julianne kissed her grandmother’s soft, scented cheek and walked with her up the stairs to their bedrooms. But after her maid had left the room, Julianne got out of bed, put on a warm robe, and went to sit by the fire.
    John. For months now she had been trying not to think of him. But she had only to hear his name mentioned tonight and so much of what she was trying to forget had come rushing back. She closed her eyes and his face was vividly present to her memory: lean, dark, strong, lit by those brilliant, strangely light eyes. So strong was his