They stopped for a rest and a drink of water. Edith looked at Anthony. He was still the same kind, gentle gentleman that she'd fallen in love with, but he was also a trained soldier. Of course he had been since before she knew him, but she'd never truly seen it before. She'd had mixed feelings about it when they were engaged, but since her abduction when she was brought face to face with evil, she had changed her mind. Some force was necessary to protect the innocent in the world, but it should be tempered with the sort of righteousness and fairness and…yes, compassion that Anthony had. Civilians really didn't know the half of it. When she wrote her next column…

She decided to ask Anthony the question she had been carefully framing in her mind.

"Anthony, from your knowledge of the region, how do you think the insurgents knew where to find me?"

"Where were you exactly when they took you?"

"At a safe house, the home of Mehmet al-Fadeh, my contact."

"I don't know the name, so he must be very good or very new or…"

"He was very good: very good at his job, and a good man. He'd looked after the previous Sketch correspondents. He was killed in the raid."

"I'm sorry. It sounds, from what you say, as though someone else knew you were there and informed the insurgents" Anthony concluded. "Perhaps someone who knew Mehmet and wanted him out of the way, or someone who informed for money."

"It can't be. Mehmet knew the dangers and so kept few friends. He wouldn't have told anyone about me."

"Someone else must have known you were there."

"The only other person in the whole world who knew…was Michael Gregson."

Anthony stared at her, struck dumb, frowning in disbelief.

"No, it couldn't have been him. He's engaged to you."

"He was adamant that I take this posting, to the point of blackmailing me" Edith went on. "He said my writing for the Sketch depended on it. He said that there was little or no danger, and that it would be the making of me and my reputation."

"Perhaps he was just naïve…"

"Don't make excuses for him, Anthony. He knew the posting was dangerous, that's why he sent me. You see, I had been doing a bit of investigative journalism of my own into his background. There was something that just didn't add up. I didn't have the evidence to back up what I'd been told was true before I came out here, so I didn't confront him, but I think he must have suspected I knew. It seems Michael Gregson is already married."

"What?!"

"She's an American and a devout Catholic who won't agree to a divorce. Think of it from his point of view: he's somehow got himself engaged to an Earl's daughter, probably because she won't let him get near her without some sort of promise and his libido is not something he's about to try to control. He's like that: he has to have his conquest, and he won't take 'no' for an answer. But now he's had his fun, and he's got to extricate himself, because marrying me would be bigamy. Something like that would be bound to come out sooner or later and that would be the end of his career. The same would happen if he broke off the engagement: Papa would make sure he had the greatest difficulty keeping a job. The first wife is untouchable. But he can send the fiancée to a war zone and tip off some very upset fanatics and leave the rest to them. And just like that, he's got out of the fix and won all the public sympathy to boot."

"My God!" whispered Anthony. "Look, please try not to brood on this now. It'll only hurt. You can't take it any further here, and we must try to stay focussed on getting to the British Embassy and back home. But when we are back in England, if you want me to, I promise you I will help you get to the bottom of this one way or the other. And if he did it, I give you my word that I shall not rest until he answers for it, one way or another."

His face was so determined and his eyes shone with such a cold anger that Edith was very glad that Anthony Strallan was on her side.

...

Edith found walking in silence with Anthony disconcerting in the extreme. It wasn't that he was bad company. She found that it was very easy to remember the comfortable silences that they had shared before. No, it was her reaction to him that made her feel uncomfortable. Despite his mildness and gentle manner, he exuded masculinity through his build and his quiet command. The effect on Edith was multiplied by his expertise in the field, and knowing he was armed and knew how to use his weapons (but didn't tote them like some Hollywood action hero). Add to this the effect that his sapphire blue eyes had always had on her, and Edith felt overwhelmed.

Michael had never possessed the innate magnetism of a male for her. He had been charming, and he had seemed to believe in her abilities as a writer. That had been enough for her when she was still sore and broken-hearted after Anthony jilted her.

In contrast to Anthony's gentlemanly grace and animal attraction, Edith felt herself feminine, shorter and weaker than he…and protected by him. No other man had ever made her feel so cherished. She knew it would take only the slightest attempt by Anthony to rekindle their relationship and she would collapse like a house of cards, physically and emotionally.

What really frightened her was that she was constantly watching Anthony hoping that he would make a move to try to court her (he wouldn't do anything as crass and indecisive as just flirting). And this was on top of the fact that, officially at least, she was engaged to another man.

The sun was setting as they neared the edge of the long pass. Standing at the top of a steep path down, as it joined the mountain range, through the binoculars Anthony pointed out the road to the city far below them.

"When we get down there, we'll walk along the road until we can hitch a lift into the city centre. The all we have to do is get to the British Embassy and convince them that you really are Lady Edith Crawley."

"So what are we waiting for?" Edith was relieved and excited that they were so near the end of this long walk at last. Anthony placed a firm hand on her arm.

"We are waiting because in ten minutes it will be completely dark, the path down to the road must be a mile and a bit and a steep 1,000 feet in descent, and we are both tired. I don't want to risk a sprained ankle or a broken leg, since neither of us can carry the other! I think we'll do better in daylight after a rest, don't you, even though it is frustrating."

Despite her eagerness, Edith yawned and had to agree. They made the best of it and settled down to their meal of ration bars.

"Anthony?"

"Yes."

"I'm very grateful."

"You're welcome."

"Not just for the food: for coming and rescuing me."

"I know."

Edith rolled her eyes at his modesty.

"Don't fob it off as though you'd given me a cup of tea. You came out here to this war zone and faced death and God knows what ghosts and demons you must suffer from the ambush, just to save my life. Thank you."

Anthony smiled at her in a slightly embarrassed way but said nothing.

"And I'm glad it was you. I would have been grateful to anyone who got me out of this mess but, well, I'm glad it was you."

Anthony didn't even smile this time, he just stared at her with a pained frown.

"Thank you, Edith."

"Anthony, don't you ever wonder what it would have been like if we had married?" He looked away and swallowed hard before answering in a voice that made her feel sorry she'd asked the question.

"Every hour of every day."

Signalling the end of the conversation, he reached into his robes for another heat pad for her, only to find that his last one was useless having been activated already, probably while he was squeezing in and out of the rocks.

"I'm sure I can cope for one night" Edith wanted to show Anthony that she wasn't just a spoilt little rich girl, and that she could rough it when needed. She started to lie down for the night.

"If…if you like we could huddle together wrapping my robes around us both. I believe I can act as an acceptable hot water bottle." He smiled sheepishly, then added quickly "You don't have to. It's just a thought."

"I would like that very much." Edith couldn't believe she'd said that so blatantly.

Deliberately not over thinking what he was about to do, Anthony shuffled out of his robes, sat beside her and then drew the cloth over them like a sheet. With his headdress as a pillow again, Edith snuggled her back up to Anthony's broad chest while he tucked the robes around them.

Anthony breathed in her feminine scent and cuddled her a little closer with his good arm, while his heart ached and a single tear fled down into his beard.

Every hour of every day, my sweet one…