The Cairo Curse Read online

  Praise for The Cairo Curse

  “In The Cairo Curse, our favorite Lord and Lady Astley of The Mistletoe Countess fame, find mysteries and mayhem aplenty in Egypt. And none of us are surprised because where Grace goes, let’s face it, a certain amount of chaos will follow. I adored watching the married romance between Grace and Freddie grow and strengthen as they continue to settle into their life together, but readers who are new to this couple will have no difficulty in following along and will undoubtedly be swept into their story within a few pages. From England to Egypt, from dining in formal attire to crawling through tombs, and from delightful adventures to deadly confrontations, The Cairo Curse is the perfect combination of romance, adventure, and suspense all written in Pepper Basham’s trademark style. This delightful romp is a must-read for romance, rom-com, and suspense readers alike.”

  - Lynn H. Blackburn, bestselling author of Malicious Intent and Targeted

  “With exquisite descriptions, a vibrant heroine, and whispers of danger haunting the tombs of the ancients, Pepper Basham’s The Cairo Curse will transport readers to exploring the wonders of the pyramids and their mysteries that await.”

  - Grace Hitchcock, award-winning author of My Dear MISS DUPRÉ, Her Darling MR. DAY, and His Delightful LADY DELIA

  “An adventure packed with mystery and humor, Ms. Basham takes readers to Egypt’s exotic landscape and serves up an unpredictable and entertaining plot rivaling that of the great Agatha Christie. Move over Detective Poirot, Freddie and Grace have arrived.”

  - Natalie Walters, award-winning author of Lights Out, SNAP Agency, and The Harbored Secrets series

  A FREDRICK GRACE MYSTERY

  BOOK 1 - THE MISTLETOE COUNTESS

  The Cairo Curse ©2023 by Pepper Basham

  Print ISBN 978-1-63609-472-4

  eBook Edition:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63609-473-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher. Reproduced text may not be used on the World Wide Web.

  All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Model Photograph: © Lee Avison / Trevillion Images

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Dedication

  to Benjamin, my world traveler and story creator.

  Acknowledgements

  I am thrilled to be able to continue the story of Frederick and Grace Percy and I couldn’t make it happen without the wonderful team at Barbour! They’ve been such encouragers to make a Freddie and Grace Mystery series come to life.

  As ever, I feel it’s impossible for me to get through a story without some of the best sidekicks in the world – Joy Tiffany and Beth Erin!

  I can’t list all the people on my Street Team because I’ll undoubtedly forget a name or two, but I can’t imagine trying to get these stories out into the world without their amazing support as some of the best bookish cheerleaders on the planet! THANK YOU!!!

  To my mom and #RamboDad who never fail to support my stories – and Dad never fails to find a way to insert Rambo into each of my books.

  I am so thankful for my wonderful family and love that stories have always brought us together. It’s so sweet to know my husband and kids celebrate these imaginary friends with me.

  And to the greatest Story Creator of them all, who has written my most important story into His Book of Life. May little glimpses of the tale He’s writing in my heart make it into each of the books I write.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  February 1914, Havensbrook

  Gunfire erupted from outside, sending Frederick Percy, Earl of Astley, leaping from his chair. The seat crashed against the floor behind him in time with another shot. What on earth! He grabbed the first weapon-like item he could find—his grandfather’s cane—and dashed toward the sound, nearly colliding with his butler moving in the same direction.

  “Did you hear the gunfire, Brandon?”

  The older gentleman’s brows rose as high as they could go without becoming part of his snowy hairline. “Indeed, my lord. From the south garden, if I guess correctly, sir.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Frederick tapped the cane against the floor and took a step in the direction of the garden door. Then stopped, a sudden sense of dread forming a lump in his stomach. His butler’s response was much too cavalier for an emergency. “Have you seen Lady Astley of late, Brandon?”

  “Not since after breakfast, sir.”

  “Well, then.” Frederick returned to his office for his own pistol and prayed whatever inspired a gunshot near his home would prove more benign than dangerous. After surviving several near-death experiences over the past Christmas season, Frederick was quite finished with drama for a while. Though drama seemed to follow his new bride in spades.

  He met the butler back in the hallway.

  “Might I offer an insight, sir?”

  Frederick pivoted in his approach to the door and turned back to Brandon. “Insight?”

  “Yes, sir.” The man released a deep sigh which pulled his pristine posture into a slight slump. He then sent Frederick a look which somehow inspired a grimace before Frederick even heard the man’s words. “Her ladyship was speaking with Mr. Blake after breakfast, sir.”

  “Mr. Blake?” Frederick rolled his gaze heavenward, the tension in his jaw uncoiling into a slight annoyance that manifested in an ache over his right eyebrow. He loved his cousin. There was no man Frederick trusted more. But for some reason, the idea of Blake and Grace together followed by the sound of gunfire did not bode well.

  For anyone.

  “About pistols, my lord.”

  And the answers emerged, along with an increased throbbing in Frederick’s head. “Thank you, Brandon.”

  Setting a slower pace, he moved toward the south side of his manor house, another shot reverberating nearer. Within a month since Christmas, his American wife had learned how to drive the car and throw knives, two skills she appeared to excel in more than knowing the fashion of the season or how to address the complicated hierarchy of the aristocracy. His lips almost split into a grin as he recalled her stumbling over addressing the Duke of Westonbridge two weeks ago by calling him “Your Honorable Lord” and then in quick correction, “Your Grace, or at least I hope you are since I fumbled your title so atrociously.”

  Of course the duke had fallen under Grace’s spell within five minutes, as everyone else who met her seemed to do since she’d moved to his crumbling Derbyshire estate two months earlier. Well, everyone except the villainess who’d tried to kill them just before Christmas. But that was hopefully a distant story, and their next chapter would be a lovely, peaceful belated honeymoon—he increased his steps at the idea—with a little surprise tagged on for his lovely Lady Astley.

  Frederick nodded a good afternoon to the police officer inconspicuously posted near the house so that Frederick’s mother could work out her sentence of house arrest in connection with his father and brother’s deaths. He released a sigh. No, she was no murderess, unless glares and harsh words counted, but she’d harbored information that could have protected others. The law had been gracious with her due to her age and status, merely revoking her freedoms from leaving Havensbrook, so his mother’s life stayed very much as it had since Frederick’s father’s death; however, the added blemish of “criminal” to her reputation ensured she spent her days away from the public eye.

  And if the police officer appeared in no great distress over the gunfire, Frederick knew all too well what must be happening.

  Just around the edge of the house, a large garden opened to the south, its walls still well intact, though ivy-grown and tangled. Another shot reverberated through the damp air, followed quickly by laughter and his wife’s exuberant exclamation of “I hit it.”

  Frederick’s lips pinched into a frown. Why he ever expected his cousin Blake to mind Frederick’s subtle requests was beyond him! The garden gate stood open, welcoming him forward into an even more tangled array of vines and twined greenery, the winter roses, a remnant of the garden’s healthier days, sleeping until spring.

  He hadn’t had the means to make things right with Havensbrook before but, with Grace’s wealth and her generous heart, he could now. Another way to make amends for the past, he hoped, though God had already bestowed on him much more than he deserved.

  His cousin sto
od to the right, hands on the hips of his gray suit jacket, but Frederick’s gaze followed Blake’s focus to the woman in the center of the garden. Her bright auburn hair was twisted up beneath a deep purple hat that matched her coat, both in contrast to her pale skin. Her laughter echoed toward him, so filled with joy and hope. Two things he’d thought lost forever before he’d met her.

  Yes, God had given him much more than he deserved, and sometimes, he wondered if God had given him more than he could manage.

  Perhaps keeping a sense of humor truly was his greatest tactic. Grace had certainly helped remind him that he still had one. “It seems I missed the invitation.”

  His interruption pulled the pair’s attention from their shared focus on the pistol Grace held in her gloved hands. Grace’s smile flashed with instant welcome. Blake’s took a mischievous tilt.

  “Oh Frederick, did you see how well I hit the target?” His bride’s deep blue eyes brightened as she gestured toward a row of cans set up on the opposite side of the garden. He could only presume she’d hit one. “It only took four attempts so far.”

  Blake discreetly held up five fingers beneath the elbow of his folded arms.

  Frederick paused by her side, glancing down into her upturned countenance. The aggravation at this undisclosed shooting lesson slowly ebbed at the look of sheer pleasure on her face. “Excellent work for a first try, darling.”

  She nodded toward Blake. “Mr. Blake assured me that you’d take over my lessons once he got them started.”

  “Did he?” Frederick raised a brow in his cousin’s direction.

  “It would not be very generous of me to withhold such an honor, Freddie.” His gray-green eyes twinkled as he gestured toward the cans. “And there’s still plenty of targets on which to practice.”

  Grace’s smile broadened again, and she stepped forward to aim the pistol, her expression turning uncharacteristically somber.

  Frederick moved to Blake’s side. “What are you doing, man?” His whisper scraped out the words. “Don’t you think we’ve been through enough of late to add pistols to my wife’s rather unique set of skills?”

  Blake’s brows shot northward. “Having both of you nearly killed on several occasions in the past two months is the very reason she should learn.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Besides, she’d already planned to set up a lesson with Aunt Lavenia next week. Did you really want Aunt Lavenia teaching her about pistols?”

  Frederick stifled a grimace. Aunt Lavenia was the best sort of woman, but heightened passions and her aim did not bode well for anyone, especially the nearby trees or passing pigeons.

  The pistol fired again, and another can spun into the air.

  “That’s two in a row,” she shouted, waving the gun without any awareness of its direction. Blake and Freddie dodged the trajectory, and Blake, with his usual diplomacy, slipped up beside Grace.

  “Excellent, my lady.” He tugged the pistol from her hand. “You have a true knack with pistols.” He shot Frederick a wink which only incited additional pain in Frederick’s forehead … and maybe a lump in his throat. “But one must always take care to point a loaded weapon away from the innocent.”

  “Oh yes.” She nodded, her lips pinching into a frown to match the crease of her brow. “I can see how that would be important, but I have plenty of time to work on my skills before we leave for Italy. By then, with Frederick’s help, I should certainly prove my shooting prowess like a regular Annie Oakley.”

  Frederick sent Blake a look for clarification, but seeing Blake’s failed attempts at controlling his grin, Frederick decided he’d rather not ask.

  “She is an American sharpshooter, my dear Lord Astley.” Grace placed a hand to his arm, clearly aware of his complete ignorance of the name. She was the oddest assortment of acute observation and lack of pretense he’d ever seen. “I saw her once when she performed in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. Grandfather took me.” Her nose wrinkled with her grin. “Did you know she could shoot a cigar from her husband’s lips at thirty paces?”

  Grace’s gaze dropped to Frederick’s lips as if planning a similar test of her own.

  “I’d expect a bit more practice on your part before you give it a go, my lady,” Blake interjected, barely controlling his laughter from the sound of it. “Though I would like to witness such a performance.”

  Frederick’s glare failed to mar his cousin’s unyielding grin.

  “Well, I am horrible at faking confidence,” Grace continued, tugging at the edge of the gloves and shaking her head as if the admission disappointed her. “So I would like to know exactly what I’m doing should the circumstances ever require me to actually use my pistols seriously.”

  Frederick deemed necessary a detour from any more talk of Grace and pistols, if for nothing else but his own peace of mind. “You are very adept at faking confidence, if you recall. I’ve seen you in a ghost hunt.”

  “Who says I was faking confidence then? I was quite prepared from my extensive fictional research on the matter.” Her gaze caught his, and she stepped closer, those glimmering eyes warming his heart. “Besides, I had you with me. And there is no need for faking confidence with my very capable hero nearby.”

  How he had ever managed to live life before meeting her, he couldn’t remember. His attention lowered to her smile. “I must admit, it is one of my favorite places to be.”

  “Please,” Blake cleared his throat and moved back a step. “Do allow me a chance of escape before demonstrations occur.”

  The laugh in his cousin’s voice only spurred Frederick’s action as he touched his palm to Grace’s cheek and dipped his head to take a lingering taste of her lips. She was no help at discretion, because she wrapped her soft arms around him and continued his delightful plunder of her ready mouth as if she’d started the whole thing. It was fortunate Blake took his leave as soon as possible, because the “demonstrations” continued for quite some time.

  “We’re leaving in two weeks?” Grace froze, fork in mid-air, her attention shifting from Frederick to Blake and back again. “But I didn’t think we were going to Italy until the end of March.”

  “Actually there’s been a change of plans.” Frederick attempted to quell his smile from giving away the surprise, but the shock on both Blake and Grace’s faces loosed his control.

  “Change of plans? Surprises?” Blake raised his glass, reverting to nonchalance. “Unlike you, cousin.”

  “I’ve become quite fond of the unexpected as of late.” He raised his glass, his gaze slipping to Grace, who still held her fork upraised. She looked positively splendid in blue, even with her bottom lip hanging a bit loose. “I received a letter from Georgia Withersby Archibald, a cousin on my mother’s side.”

  “Georgia?” Blake lowered his glass. “I haven’t heard from her since she married. What did Archibald call himself? An adventurer, was it?”

  “Entrepreneur, I believe was the word.”

  “Ah, code word for too rich, I believe it is.” Blake took another drink.

  “Take care, Blake. He married into the family.”

  “Poor man, and the origin of his riches, as I recall.” The statement came with nettles.

  “Is the ‘poor man’ comment related to the married part or ‘our family’ part?” Grace interjected, her brow pinched and her attention bouncing back and forth between them again.

  “Both.” Blake winked and turned back to Frederick. “Georgia and her brother, Timothy, are the lone twins in the family, Lady Astley, and have enjoyed quite the insouciant lifestyle from their father’s unexpected wealth through the railway. Marrying Sydney Archibald wasn’t a necessity, but unfortunately, she found herself overwhelmingly in love with the man.”

  “Well, I can certainly appreciate such a discovery.” Grace finally lowered her fork, her smile slipping wide as she looked at Frederick. “And I wouldn’t call it a bit unfortunate.”

  “It is safe to say, Lady Astley”—Blake leaned back in his chair and turned toward Grace—“that you have chosen much better than our unfortunate cousin.”

  “Blake.” Frederick shot a warning glance across the table, which merely reflected back with a groan. Yes, Frederick had heard the rumors too. Sydney Archibald was generous not only with his own self-praise but also with his amorous behavior, and poor Georgia had suffered the embarrassment of his once-private affairs becoming unashamedly public within a year of their wedding. He’d hoped they’d been unfounded, but the look on Blake’s face proved otherwise.