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Surprises

Dear Miss Lockhart

Where do I start? My name is Evelyn Carnahan. You don't know me. In fact, I am not rightly sure whether there is any connection between us whatsoever. But I do not wish to dwell on introductions, for I hope and assume that I will be meeting you very shortly.

I have some very important information for you, Miss Lockhart, so I will cut straight to the chase.

I am under the impression that your fiancé, Rick O'Connell, whom you believed to be dead these past three years, is alive and is currently in the Cairo prison under charges of deserting his post in the French Foreign Legion.

Yet it is not only Mr. O'Connell that I wish to confront you about. I would have gone to see him if I hadn't been informed that he had a fiancée under the name of Cordelia Lockhart. I thought I would contact you before indulging in on my plans which I plan to share with you when we first meet. There is much more behind this than you think.

I am aware that this is much to take in, or that you may not even believe me. But whether your belief is frail or not, I do wish you to come see my brother and me as soon as possible.

There is much to talk about.

1436 Remalio Dr., Cairo, Egypt.

Sincerely,

Evelyn Carnahan

Cordelia clutched the thin piece of paper tightly between her nimble fingers, her eyes darting back and forth across the letter several times before the words of Evelyn Carnahan finally began to sink in. Her heart slowed to a concerned state before picking up to an alarming rate.

The letter fell through Cordelia's fingers and onto the white-tiled conservatory floor. She absentmindedly picked up a handkerchief from the table in front of her and pressed it hard to her mouth, coughing back a sort of strangled gasp.

Her eyes grazed the yellowing paper that lay on the floor again, tracing her gaze over the word 'alive'.

"Alive . . ." she whispered, repeating her thoughts. Yet how was this possible? Three years prior a soldier had arrived on her doorstep with a mask of sympathy on and told her that her fiancé had died in battle in the Egyptian desert. Why wouldn't they tell her if Rick had survived? Did they even know? They must have. How else would someone report that he had committed treason?

Cordelia lowered the handkerchief and bent down to pick up the letter, her eyes wide and head reeling. She re-read it several more times, feeling her heart reverberate throughout her body. She closed her eyes, wondering if this impossible conclusion was indeed a reality. She didn't know this woman, she didn't even know of her. Yet Cordelia could think of no reason why someone would try and fool her this way.

She opened her eyes and almost stumbled upon her dress as she got hastily to her feet.

"Shit!" she uttered, running her fingers through her loose curls and feeling faint in the head.

"Miss Lockhart!" said Mr. Thomas, who was only a few yards away, watering the geraniums. Yet Cordelia didn't have time to ridicule herself for foul language.

"Mr. Thomas, I need the next train to Cairo, immediately!"

.

The train ride from Giveh to Cairo was not generally that long, but the overbearing thought of Cordelia's fiancé still being alive and that he was possibly only a couple of hours away made the entire traveling experience feel like an eternity.

Cordelia had barely been able to get herself properly dressed for the public eye, claiming to her maids that she didn't care what she looked like just as long as she could get to Cairo as soon as possible. Yet the head maid, Mrs. White, was a stern and grouchy old woman who reminded Cordelia slightly of an old, bad-tempered vulture.

She had picked out a dress of velvety maroon with a flattering 'V' neckline and had several other maids tie up Cordelia's corset and undergarments, despite her many protests.

"Your mother and father will not approve of you gallivanting off to Cairo while they are away in England," Mrs. White had grumbled, pulling Cordelia's mane of brown hair fiercely back with her brush.

"You do not understand," Cordelia had retorted, wincing as Mrs. White pulled a lock of her hair back. "Rick—"

"O'Connell?" spluttered Mrs. White, pining the last bit of Cordelia's hair up.

Cordelia didn't wait to answer. She got to her feet.

"What of your bags?"

"I will send you the address!" Cordelia called over her shoulder, already halfway down the curved staircase. She could imagine Mrs. White snorting indignantly at her comment.

Now she stared out of the train window at the dusty deserts of Egypt, or at the stragglers and pedestrians when they were passing through a small town. The entire time, Cordelia clutched Evelyn's letter tightly between her white-laced gloved fingers and re-read the same line over and over again.

I am under the impression that your fiancée, Rick O'Connell, whom you believed to be dead these past three years, is alive

Cordelia didn't dare herself a minute of happiness at the though of Rick being alive; what if it turned out this was some sick joke? Cordelia didn't know if she could stand to have her hopes raised only to be crushed before her.

But she was surprising herself. Cordelia and Rick's marriage had been arranged in their teen years, and though Cordelia found Rick a fine and reasonable man(if a bit roguish)could she ever say that she had ever truly been in love with him? That remained to be seen.

Yet whether Cordelia Lockhart loved Rick O'Connell or not, if he was alive she would not be abandoning him anytime soon.

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